Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Latest Review for Banished Scoundrel

"Anita Philmar blends the mystical and magical with a sense of historical realism and social propriety. Creating characters that belay the differences between two worlds, Ms. Philmar's protagonists are endearing and heighten the sense of adventure for her readers."

Reviewed by Cris

Read the rest at

Fallen Angels Reviews


Monday, March 29, 2010

Egg-cerpt for Descent into Darkness


Genre: Historical/Vampire (erotic novel)
Available from Liquid Silver Books
ISBN: 1-59578-284-2
Cover by: April Martinez


This story is darkly intriguing. It explores the mental status of an older vampire who finds he has lost something very important to him, but only after the fact. Denyse is amazing in her ability to bring across to her audience such intense feelings in such a short time. As always, I have thoroughly enjoyed her current offering and will definitely suggest it to others.

FULL review is here: http://bittenbybooks.com/?p=9983


Spanning almost two centuries Descent Into Darkness is the erotic love story of an ancient vampire and the mortal woman who is his obsession.

Alexander DeLenoir is an ancient creature of the night, born in a betrayal that has left him without conscience or morality. He’s witnessed history that is now myth. Throughout his long life, Alexander has seldom sought companionship, and never has he looked for love. He has kept two of his immortal children with him, through whatever means necessary, and is not intending to expand his family.

Arriving at a small Massachusetts town after killing the sailors on their ship, the vampire trio meets the mysterious and lonely wife of the innkeeper, and Alexander is entranced by her beauty and her indomitable spirit. In Amberlaine Calvert, he senses a nature as dark and depraved as his own seeking freedom. Despite the protests of his companions, Alexander takes her and in adoration of him finds an obsessive kind of happiness.

When the town slowly awakens to the evil among them, a bloody slaughter ensues, and Amberlaine is forced to see the madness that will define her life with Alexander. Yet, in spite of her fear, she is obsessively devoted to the powerful vampire, and the darker things she feels lurking within her are about to be unleashed by a hunger even greater than her passion—the thirst for revenge against those who dare to threaten their existence…


The night air was chilly, but for the first time in a week, it was clear. Amberlaine gazed upward at the glitter of frost-white stars that dotted the vast blackness of the sky. There was a stillness to the night that felt vaguely disturbing, but she dismissed it as her own miserable state of mind. She often walked the paths behind the huge, sprawling inn, and had found a lovely, secluded cove less than a mile from her home. She escaped to the sanctuary every chance she could risk. It had been almost two weeks since she’d last ventured to the hidden place.

She threaded her way through the tangle of wooded growth, her eyes easily picking out the path even within the heavy darkness. The glow of a nearly full moon lit the way with tiny shafts of silver light that filtered through the boughs of the trees. She found the spot she sought a short while later, and smiled with genuine freedom for the first time that day.

Amberlaine went to the edge of the water and sat, the mossy bank soft and comfortingly warm beneath her. She trailed her hand through the still waters, smiled at the silken feel of the clear water flowing through her fingers. Moonlight shimmered white radiance off the surface of the lake, and she gave in to the impulse that had brought her here. Standing, she stripped off her clothes and waded into the pool. The water welcomed her, enfolding her as the arms of a lover would, and Amberlaine finally permitted herself to cry.

* * *

Diana continued to lead her unsuspecting victim toward the stand of trees near the back of the Inn. She could feel Alexander’s presence, his nearness an undeniable force. Less intense, but somehow brighter, was Julian. They couldn’t risk a string of bodies, so they had chosen this form of hunting for the short time they would be in the small village. Diana knew the men she traveled with hated the method, but it was safe--for the moment.

Charles Peabody was too busy congratulating himself on his good luck to notice that the beautiful woman at his side was more interested in her surroundings than him. Thomas be damned! Charles thought with a smug grin. Let him punish his slut of a wife in whatever way he chose, Charles had his own promise of pleasure to pursue. That thought made him bold, and he stopped their trek into the heavier growth of trees.

“Just a little further, chéri,” Diana purred sweetly. “You do not expect me to enjoy our tryst so close to possible discovery?”

“If your companions return, Thom will deal with them,” Charles boasted, and tried to catch her in a kiss that would silence the talk. He was more interested in engaging this little minx in other activities.
“My... brother will not like it if he finds us,” Diana teased, thoroughly enjoying that particular lie. The idea of Alexander defending her honor was vastly more amusing than this poor fool could ever imagine. Still, she didn’t object too strenuously when Charles pulled her tightly to him and claimed her mouth in a kiss that lacked any seductive lure at all.

Diana snuggled closer to her victim and laughed softly when he moaned his pleasure and his hips moved against hers. She nuzzled his neck and nipped lightly at the sun-weathered skin. Blood teased her senses and she shuddered with passion her partner couldn’t begin to comprehend. Sharp, gleaming fangs emerged and Charles cried out in sudden pain and surprise when Diana’s mouth closed on his neck. He tried to push her away, only to find his wrists were now firmly held by one of the men who had accompanied her to the Inn.

Terror seized him and he struggled more earnestly in the hideous embrace. He could hear the soft, sucking sounds of her feeding, and his horror rose as Julian stepped into a pale sliver of moonlight and smiled. As the world spun away from him, Charles felt the grasp on him change.

Julian’ fangs tore the hapless man’s throat with a savagery that made Diana grin. As he drank, Diana’s head tilted back and laughter bubbled from her blood stained lips. The body of Charles Peabody fell to the soft, mossy ground long minutes later, a barely audible sigh of air escaping him as he died.

A short distance away, Alexander fed a different need--one he had not felt for centuries. He remained hidden in the shadow of gently swaying trees, and his smile grew as he watched Amberlaine Calvert’s sylph-like body glide through the moonlight- tinted waters of her private bath. Auburn hair streamed out behind her and she closed her eyes as the warm water caressed her. Alexander heard the lingering roughness of tears that made her breaths uneven and erratic. Pain emanated from the beautiful woman, pain and deeply repressed desires.

The vampire felt his children feed, was aware of the twitch of hunger that rose from deep within him, but he was reluctant to rejoin them. She stood and Alexander watched her walk from the small lake. Droplets of crystalline water trickled off her pale curves and he was surprised to note the purely sexual craving that woke inside him. Firm breasts strained against the lightweight fabric of her shift as she tugged it on, and Alexander resisted a laugh when he acknowledged his desire to suckle and caress those soft, tempting swells. How long had it been since he’d lusted for a mortal? His beautiful witch had enchanted him--the thought was met by a small self-mocking smile; he already thought of her as his prize.

Her head came up sharply and he was momentarily disconcerted by the piercing gaze that was cast in his direction. Fear drifted to him and he turned away, mentally searching as she quickly gathered her things and dressed. Her panic became more tangible with each moment. Then she was gone from the haven he’d discovered was her refuge.

Annoyed, Alexander extinguished the throb of desire she’d created in him and reached further outward with his thoughts. He sensed the stalking wolf that had alarmed her, and quickly dispatched the unfortunate animal with a mental command that made it yelp in pain before bolting away. He went to find Diana and Julian.

Amberlaine shivered with the after-chill of her bath, and the inescapable sense of unnatural silence that permeated the forest. Something she couldn’t name had frightened her away from her sanctuary, and it had taken her some time to curb the sense of panic. Because of her distraction, she’d taken a wrong turn on the path and now ended up walking an extra half mile back to the inn. The added distance was not entirely unwelcome, she mused, it was simply more time to be spent in freedom. More time to miss the three people who had so unexpectedly reminded her of a different life, and all that she had been forced to give up. Three people? A voice inside her head repeated in self-mockery. She would miss him. The tall, dark-haired stranger with the piercing eyes and the voice that touched her like rich, flowing silk. She would long for Alexander for the rest of her life.

Amberlaine’s mental wanderings came to an abrupt halt moments later when she encountered an obstacle she hadn’t noticed on the trail. She stumbled and fell. The feel of a body was almost a relief, probably one of the drunkards from the inn looking for a shorter way back to his home. Still, she was relieved, until she looked closely and saw the lifeless eyes of one of her husband’s cohorts. Peabody, her mind noted in shock. She reached out a badly shaking hand and the scream of terror began to rise within her. She knew before she actually touched him, then she saw the gaping hole that had once been his throat. A tiny trickle of crimson dribbled into the cushioned ground beneath her.

Before Amberlaine could consciously stifle her horror, she started to scream. Unreasoning fear forced motion, and she crawled backward until she met the unyielding resistance of one of the huge trees that filled the forest. She groped blindly and hauled herself to her feet. Her eyes remained riveted to the dead stare of the corpse in front of her.

Alexander knew what he would find before the first shriek of terror shredded the peaceful night air. He’d felt her approach seconds before the actual sound had reached them. Suppressing his annoyance, he strode back to the spot they had just left.


When she didn’t respond to him, he repeated her name with a new inflection, one of commanding power to his tone.

The quiet, controlled voice cut through the wall of panic that surrounded her, and she was able to look away from the crimson gore that had once been Peabody’s throat. Alexander stood a few feet away, pale moonlight surrounded him in a silvery radiance and gave him the appearance of a benevolent angel. She ran to him before she knew what else to do. Her arms went around him and she buried her face against his chest, desperate tears finally spilling forth.

Alexander hesitated for a moment, pleasantly startled by the feel of Amberlaine in his arms. She was clinging to him, quiet sobs shuddering through her. He pulled her closer and began to whisper soft words of comfort as he led her away from the grisly scene she had found. He spotted Julian peering at him through the trees and the younger vampire’s anger brought a small glimmer of amusement to his smile.

“You are safe, my pet,” he murmured to the frightened woman. He stopped walking once they were well away from the body, and he turned her face up to meet his gaze. “You saw nothing, Amber,” he told her, weaving the hypnotic spell that would erase her memory of the horror she had witnessed. He felt her mind resisting his influence, and was oddly pleased by the realization. It reinforced his belief that she was much stronger than she knew. Still, it was not long before she succumbed to the pressure of his suggestion, and the fear that had lit her eyes began to fade. “There is nothing here to frighten you, pet,” he assured her in the same gentle, soothing tones he’d used to erase her remembrance of the death.

After several tense minutes, Amberlaine’s fear ebbed away completely and left only confusion in its wake. Confusion, and an awareness that made her body tremble with a new kind of fright. She knew she should not allow herself to remain in Alexander’s embrace. The desire to be this close to him, closer, over-rode her good sense.

“I am not frightened, my lord,” she whispered in a tiny voice. “I have never felt safer in my life,” she admitted with a sudden candor that made Alexander smile.
The irony was a pleasure in itself, he thought. She was in more danger than her young life had ever known, yet all she felt was trust. And desire. Yes, the light in her eyes spoke clearly of her desire to share his bed.

Alexander bent to brush her lips with his, and the sharp intake of her breath was followed immediately by the tentative pressure of her mouth meeting his caress. Her inexperience was frustrating but intriguing, and the vampire carefully tasted her mouth, keeping the stroke of his tongue delicate. Amberlaine stirred in his arms, and she moved closer to him to press her small frame to the long length of his body. She opened her mouth to him, invited his probe, and he felt the warmth of her tongue entwined with his as she answered his reawakened hunger.

Alexander eventually drew away from the sweetness of her shy, caressing responses to him and held her face between his hands. “You are making it very hard for me to let go of you, my pet,” he whispered, the words strangely sincere despite his flippancy.

“Take me with you, Alexander!” she cried, no longer caring if she had to beg for his attention. She had never felt so alive before, and her body shook uncontrollably in his arms. All she could think of was the mindless, intoxicating happiness he had just taught her with his kiss. No one had ever touched her this way, nor had any kiss made her feel as she now did. “Please, my lord?”

The words were breathless, pleading.

“Amberlaine,” he smiled warmly. “I am not leaving.”

“But you will,” she said sadly as tears filled her eyes once again. Stung by his apparent rejection, she pulled away from him and turned her back to hide the shame she felt at her actions. She was a married woman, behaving like a wanton tramp. Why would someone like this nobleman want her? He could have any lover he chose, he would certainly want better than the battered wife of an innkeeper.


Julian’s voice reached them a moment before the young noble stepped into view. Amberlaine turned glistening eyes to him then she ran, unable to face his kindness and decency.

“Why won’t you leave her alone?” he asked, his voice low with anger.

“She wants me to take her with me when we leave,” Alexander laughed. “She feels safe with me, Julian,” he informed the younger vampire.

“Why wouldn’t she?” Julian retorted instantly. “You are making a habit of saving her from her fears. She doesn’t know you are worse than anything she could imagine in this place.”

“Perhaps you should tell her,” Alexander suggested coldly. The nobleman’s words angered him more than he would have preferred. He laughed then, the sound dark and contemptuous. “But, that would mean admitting you are just like me, wouldn’t it, my Julian? And she would no longer look at you with such adoring respect. If you find this little wench so enchanting, dear boy, take her and be done with it!”

“It’s not me she wants, Alexander,” he pointed out.

“And that matters?” the ancient vampire enquired, his voice again tainted with mocking amusement.
“Doesn’t it?” Julian challenged, unexpected knowledge in his eyes as he faced his master. Alexander held the steady stare for a full minute, then he nodded. The humor had vanished from his mood, to be replaced by the dangerous introspection Julian knew so well.

“Very good, Julian,” Alexander whispered. “You are finally learning to see more clearly.”

The confirmation of Alexander’s desire for the woman did little to comfort the younger vampire. If anything, it made him feel that his reluctance to warn her was somewhat cowardly. Still, he could see no way to make her life better, short of taking her away before Alexander could suspect him. It would only be a temporary solution, at best. He’d tried to leave Alexander before, hadn’t he? He’d never been successful. Amberlaine herself would not want to leave the master vampire. She was a child, he thought. A trusting child.

“She’s an innocent--” Julian stopped the sentence before he could complete the thought, and understanding lit sudden wrath in his eyes. “I should have guessed,” he noted bitterly. “That’s what fascinates you.”

Alexander’s eyebrow rose as he considered the truth, then he laughed again and strolled back toward the inn.

“He will take her with us, Julian,” Diana remarked, as she appeared at his side seemingly out of thin air. “Perhaps she will be better off?”

“Are we?” he asked quietly. Blue eyes met blue in a moment of silent communion…

Find Denysé Bridger at
WEBSITE: http://www.denysebridger.com
BLOG: http://fantasy-pages.blogspot.com
Romantic Moments (Free Reads): http://www.romanticmoments.webs.com
Sensual Treats Magazine: http://www.sensualtreats.webs.com

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/denysebridger
MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/denysebridger
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/denyse.bridger
Facebook Fan Page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Romance-and-Fantasy/458701180391

Thanks for the egg-cerpt,


Friday, March 19, 2010

Egg-cerpt from Roarke

From: Devine Destinies
by Frances Pauli
Science Fiction Romance


They have to be lying when they tell her she was dead. With no memoryof her past, and no idea who she actually is, Nora has little options.Alone, and at the mercy of the Mercenary Defense Conglomerate, shesearches for clues into her past, and the truth about her supposeddemise.

If she is a prisoner, robbed of memory and held against her will, thenshe must trust no one. If she has, in fact, returned from the dead,then who could possibly help her? Armed with only her wits and herinexplicably sharpened senses, she is forced to play along, to searchfor the holes in their story and to piece together the flashes ofmemory that serve only to taunt her.

But the visions seem to confirm the impossible. The man who issupposed to be her fiancé seems bent on confusing her, and the oneperson she is desperate to be near may very well be responsible forher death. If the silent Roarke is her enemy, why do her visions drawher closer to him? And why, when nothing else seems remotely familiar,does Nora find herself remembering, or wanting to remember only him?


“I’m afraid we’ll have to brave a small crowd on the way out. Newsof your…return has been hard to keep quiet.”

“I should imagine.” I smile congenially at him and allow myself tobe led from the room. The crowd doesn’t surprise me, though small isan understatement. I’ve sensed them building outside all along. I brace myself, grateful for the doctor’s arm, and we emerge onto a longwalkway. The floor drops away on both sides, and the spaces are filled with craning faces. I’m torn between scanning the assembly for some shred of recognition and shying from any contact with the eager expressions. In the end, I dart sparing glances at random people. Nothing stirs any memory.

Halfway across the space I give up and choose to focus on the longstrips of blue-tinted lights that line the walls. I think that nothingseems familiar here because this isn’t where I belong. Perhaps, Ithink, this is a prison after all.

I hate to consider the doctor as a participant in my capture,perhaps even directly responsible for removing my memory, but thepossibility can’t be ignored. It is, given the unbelievable alternative that is their story, quite likely closer to the truth. YetI allow myself to be led toward another curving doorway. I have fewoptions, few options for now.

I concentrate, instead, on how playfully the blue light interacts with the metal of my dress. The fabric flashes and shoots refractedfire as I move in it. I let myself be mesmerized by the effect. Thedoor is near, and Doctor Williams slows as we approach it. Myirritation surges again. Another foreign hallway beyond this one?Another unfamiliar room? Suddenly, I have no wish to continuepeaceably. I have no interest in allowing myself to be led to anydestination they’ve selected. I scan sideways from the door, searchingfor a pathway of my own choosing, wherever it may lead.

I’m struck dumb by a familiar face. He stands back from the others,aside from them, but near the door. Where I’m most likely to see him,I decide. He leans against the gray wall and looks at the ceiling. Thestrong muscle of his jaw tenses. Lines etch across his rugged face. Mychest lurches at the sight of him. I search for a name to assign tothe single familiar person in this crowded hall. The set shoulders and staggered legs ring through my mind looking for something to cling to.

Exact memories, like the name I want to put to him, shy from my grip.The feeling sweeps through me of something just on the tip of mytongue, too elusive to pin down. I’m frantic to snare it, but itdances out of reach. I realize that I’ve stopped walking.

His red hair crowns a complexion nowhere near pale. He shifts hisgaze downward slowly, with great intention, and meets my gaze. The intensity in his eyes belies his casual pose. He knows me.

In an instant, I’m lifted from the room, my mind trapped in darknesswithout a body to attach to. I drift without direction or purpose in asea of warmth. Softly, the singing whispers, return, return to me. Thepersistent voice hovers near desperate, saturated with emotion. Thewords pull me down.

I come back to myself. The doctor tugs gently at my arm. Concern scrawls across his face. I see the question there. “I’m fine,” I say, stepping in line with him once more. “Get me out of here, okay?” And we pass through the second doorway together.

To learn more about Frances Pauli visit her website: http://francespauli.com/

Thanks for the egg-cerpt Frances,


Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Egg-cerpt for Blue Keltic Moon

Blue Keltic Moon

Buy link: http://www.wingsepress.com/Bookstore/Blue%20Keltic%20Moon.htm


Duty before love. As much as Branna's heart protested, Gowthaman would have to wiat until she returned with the rescued Alfar-Sindhu prince.

Love before self. Following Breanna into the world between worlds, Gowthaman faced the pains of his past, riskes his intellect, his sanity and his life. For her.

Destiny before all. In the time of the blue Keltic moon.


The opening scenes of the movie flickered on the huge screen and he blinked at the odd, science fiction images. Bree gave half a chuckle. “I love this movie.” Then she leaned close again. “I can’t believe I’ve never made you watch this with me.” The low, sultry tone of her words vibrated through him like a song. A fey angel’s song. Breanna’s song.

He turned his head and bumped her nose with his. She gulped back a gasp but didn’t move away. He could kiss her now, in the movie darkness. But not the kiss he wished to bestow upon her; how could he, when he was undeserving?

Tiny frown lines marked the downturn of her lips as if she knew his thoughts.

“We should...” he started, then cleared his throat of the words hovering there.

“I think a better...” Bree said at the same time.

“Shh.” A wadded napkin landed on Bree’s outstretched arm. Chance’s movements rustled from the overstuffed floor pillows. “You’re the one who said we’ve gotta watch a movie, so be quiet.” He laughed, spoiling his stern reprimand.

“Okay, okay. I’m watching the movie.” Bree rolled her eyes as she sank against the back cushions. She lifted her soda can in a sarcastic salute after Chance focused on the screen. “Brat.”

The interruption had been timely. Unsure exactly what Chance had interrupted, and vaguely angered with the young man, Gowthaman stored his erratic thoughts away and after a quick glance at Bree, determined to watch the movie. No thinking, no action, just mindless drivel to take him away from his concerns.

After all, that was what his Breanna wanted. Wasn’t it?

The distraction worked—for a short while. He even found himself identifying with one of the characters. Until the actors portraying actors arrived on a real space-going ship modeled after the vessel on their television show. Until his hand bumped Bree’s in the popcorn bowl when they both tried to keep the bowl from tipping. Until she twined her fingers with his, moved the bowl and scooted closer, resting their joined hands on her thigh.

Without turning his head, he glanced sideways at her. A tiny smile accented the fullness of her lower lip. The tip of her tongue swiped at a shiny spot of salty butter at the corner of her mouth. Gowthaman clawed the fingers of his free hand into the furniture arm. The aching need to kiss her, to show her his love rumbled deep in his chest. He released a slow breath, the roar of movie battle covering the low sound of his indiscretion.

Perhaps if he did kiss her, he would be able to take control of his wayward emotions. He glanced at her again. Seeming oblivious of his internal struggle, she laughed at the movie actors.

He should kiss her. He would after the movie. One kiss then he could return to his journal and complete the preparations needed to send the mission off successfully. Just one kiss.

After all, that was what his Breanna wanted. Wasn’t it?

*~*romance with a sparkling twist*~*

Blue Keltic Moon

Find Lizzie at:


Thanks Lizzie, for the egg-cerpt.

You are the best,


Thursday, March 4, 2010

Egg-cerpt for Abby Gordon

Beck & Call

Serena Traydon was tired of playing it safe. All her adult life, she’d done what was expected—worked hard, went to school, cared for her aging grandfather, and ignored her own needs. Just once, she wanted someone to take care of her and bring her passions to life. But those deeper, darker desires seemed so forbidden without the right partner.

Keith McLauren had spent years training for this moment. He was a Dom and he’d finally found the perfect submissive. She might be his secretary but she’d never been at his beck and call. Could he make her his without ruining everything?


Master had been able to guide her to incredible orgasms just over the phone. Regardless of how this turned out, did she want to miss out on what he could do in person?
Hell, no! One minute she was still, the next she was scrambling off the bed to follow his orders. She had thirty-five minutes.
In thirty minutes, she was leaving her apartment and praying she wouldn’t run into anyone she knew. Standing at the window next to the main entrance, she waited. One minute early, a black Lexus pulled up. Taking a deep breath, she went outside and got in the car. As the car moved forward, the locks clicked. As a well of panic rushed up her throat, Serena looked toward the driver. There was a dark glass barrier.
Fastening her seatbelt, she leaned back. Closing her eyes, she prayed she wasn’t making the worst mistake of her life.
Fifteen minutes later, the car dipped as it entered a basement garage. The car stopped and the locks clicked. Swallowing down the fear, she opened the door. In the shadows before her, she saw the elevator doors sliding open. Shutting the car door behind her, she walked slowly to the elevator.
Serena paused outside the doors, hesitant. Almost immediately, she was grabbed from behind. A hand covered her mouth as she was wrestled inside and pressed against the wall. She felt the vibration of the doors closing and the car began to rise.
A low husky voice rasped in her ear.
"I don’t know whether to turn you over my knee for being so naïve or to fuck you right now."

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Egg-cerpt for Pas De Deux

Pas De Deux

Lynn didn’t know why she was trembling. Surely this wasn’t nerves, not now, not when the awkward part was over. There was no reason to feel nervous with this intense dark-eyed stranger who technically hadn’t even told her his name.

Her pulse fluttered somewhere in her throat when he unbuttoned her coat and with slow movements drew it off her shoulders.

Maybe this wasn’t right. He didn’t act as if he wanted her, but then again, she hadn’t made the most romantic proposition. Maybe he really was some kind of psycho…

“Last chance,” he murmured, still not touching her, his heat enveloping her body.

She watched his face, those dark and intense eyes, those sensual lips that seemed both merciless and sexy. “You’ve already said that.”

He kissed her, hard and raw, and sent her pulse out of control.

“I have condoms.” A breathless whisper. She didn’t want romance, didn’t want shivers or nerves. Except arousal teased at her skin, caressed her with his heat, stroked her between her thighs with light and teasing movements.

“You’re a girl scout.” He still hadn’t touched her, as if giving her that final chance to change her mind and kick him out.

Her pulse roaring in her ears, Lynn reached for the ties of her dress and tried to keep her hands from shaking.

“Hold on.” He moved to stand behind her, the rough skin of his palms gently closing on her wrists. Slow, his hands moved over her bared arms, sliding over trembling skin, drawing her into his body.

Her buttocks pressed against the hard bulge of his cock. The arms that closed around her were strong and taut and clad in leather. He nudged her forward, his scent surrounding her with every step. She reached the tiled bar with him behind her, braced her forearms on the cool hard surface and fought for some semblance of control.

“Bedroom.” She hadn’t intended for her voice to come out breathless. More shivers tap-danced up her spine.

His breath was hot against the sensitive shell of her ear. “Not just yet.”

The long length of his body trapped her against the bar, those blunt hard fingers once again moving over her arms, traveling lower with exquisite slowness, brushing the sides of suddenly aching, swelling breasts.

“Where do you like to be touched?” Low intimate voice.

She pressed her hips against him and tried to stop herself from shivering again. “Surprise me.”


One wrong move, and she could be dancing on her grave…

Two years after an injury put her dancing career on hold, Lynnrina Kovaleva is determined to reclaim her place on the stage. On the eve of her comeback production, she takes the edge off her nerves with a one-night stand in the strong arms of celebrity bodyguard Mateo Rivera.

Ex-cop Mateo is celebrating one hell of an anniversary: eight months since he was declared unfit for duty. When a delicate beauty boldly propositions him in a bar, he chooses to lose himself in her body rather than lose his mind to alcohol. This choice comes back to haunt him when he’s hired to protect a prima ballerina who’s been receiving threats.

Despite her shock at seeing him again, Lynn must not allow their intense attraction—or any creepy fan letters—to undermine her performance. Mateo can’t reconcile this coldly focused dancer with the passionate woman who seduced him. Yet he sees fire under the ice, pain hidden by the smooth mask of perfection.

The vivid memory of their entwined bodies wars with the job at hand, but he must keep Lynn safe—regardless of the cost. The most difficult challenge, however, will be keeping his hands to himself.

Warning: Contains jetés, pliés, a chilling touch of danger, and the boiling heat of an unwanted attraction that combusts into passionate sex.

Some of Fiona's reviews:

From Dragon Slayer published by Noble Romance"Fiona Jayde has taken myth, magic, sword, and destiny and wound them together; creating a fascinating story with characters you won’t be able to forget."-Fern from Whipped Cream Reviews

For Ellora's Cavemen Flavors Of Estascy III - Pitch Black: "Captivating characters with magnetism makes it difficult to take your eyes off the pages."Cata Romance Reviews

For Booty Call published by e-RedSage- "Short, sweet and hot.” The Romance Readers Connection

Find Fiona at

Thanks for the egg-cerpt Fiona,


Monday, March 1, 2010

Egg-cerpt from Emma Lai

His Hope, Her Salvation

Promised in marriage to an abusive oaf, Judith resolves to find out if there can be passion without love. Snatches of conversation overheard at the local inn lead her to a mysterious American merchant who might be able to satisfy her carnal curiosity and capture her heart.

Donovan, a Guardian Hunter, is on the trail of a rogue Elysian in Georgian England. As the son of the First Hunter, he long ago gave up hope of finding his heart's mate. When Judith appears in his study, his inner beast and his heart demand he answer her plea for help.

Will their passion answer their hearts' pleas, or will it wither under the threat of reality?


The voices in the taproom of the Horse and Hound deafened us as we entered. A large group of men stood packed together in the center of the room. A roar ripped through the crowd as it surged inward.

I shoved my way through the mass of sweaty bodies with Eallair following in my wake. I stopped when confronted with the scene that held the crowd enthralled.

A large, older, well-dressed gentleman gripped my mysterious guest from earlier by an elbow.

He shook her and yelled, “You little whore!” He raised a hand and slapped her across the face with his open palm.

The crowd cheered as she collapsed to her knees, her shoulder wrenched as the hand on her elbow restrained her from crumbling into a heap on the floor.

The dead look in her eyes and the lack of any outward emotion testified to the regularity of similar scenes she must have suffered. With a bellow of rage, I swooped forward and scooped her to her feet just as the old man raised his hand to strike her again. Placing my body between them, I snarled, “Release her.”

Thank you Emma for your wonderful Egg-cerpt,