Monday, January 30, 2012

More than a pretty face.

Drew Barrymore, like most child stars, faced the challenge of becoming more than just an ex-kid actress. She ran through her series of troubles and came out on top by creating her own production company.

Born February 22, 1975, she has a family who has been in the movie industry for years. She's played on the wild side off screen and turned her image around in recent years.

A woman, who wants to be her own person, her website
talks about her career, her charities, and her films.

Check out the lady behind the press pictures and you see an incredible smart woman, who can also be sexy.

Have an awesome week,


Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Would You Want to be Called a Computer?

I found a very interesting article about a group of women, who were call a computer because they calculated the trajectories for weapons. Their calculations were then passed out to soldiers and planes in the war.

These women worked long hours and some even went on to program the ENIAC (general-purpose computers)

See Smart women rocked the world.

To Read the full article

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Hey, Little Girl

Reading about the computer world, you always hear about the shortage of women in the programming field.

Girls it's an exciting field. Back when I did programming, I thought about it like creating art or writing a story.

People are playing in the world you created. How much more exciting can a job be?

Oh, yeah, being a writer,

But Girls consider it as a career option. As you can see by my prior articles women were one of the first people to work in the field.


Monday, January 23, 2012

Special Guest - Roni Loren

First, I must apologize for getting this up late. Thanks Roni for understanding.

From Blank Page to Published Book - How Crash Into You Came To Be

Writing and publishing a book can be quite a journey. Every writer’s path is different, but today I thought I’d give you a peek inside the process of how CRASH INTO YOU came to be.

1. Trusting my story idea
Before I wrote CRASH, I had written a paranormal YA and a category-length contemporary romance. Though I read a lot of erotic romance, I had never tried my hand at one. But when the story idea for this book came to me, I knew it could only be told via erotic romance. I wasn’t sure if I had the talent to write that steamy of a story, but I figured I had nothing to lose. Most likely, no one would ever see all these hot scenes anyway, right? I mean, what are the chances this will actually get published? *snort* Fate must’ve chuckled at me over that one.

2. Letting others read it
I had been in a critique group for the second novel, so I was used to getting feedback on my stories, but this was a much different story than I’d written before. My critique group had mixed feelings about critiquing an erotic. Some were totally fine, others felt it was out of their comfort zone. So, I left that group and found a few beta readers who felt more comfortable with the genre to get their opinion.

3. Sending it to agents
I had queried my YA and had gotten a lot of rejections. Very well-deserved rejections I might add. That was very much a “practice” novel that should’ve never been sent out. But like most writers, I had to go through that phase to learn. Right as I finished CRASH, a blogging friend reached out to me to let me know that her agent was looking for more romance writers. She’d liked the excerpts on my blog, so she offered to give me a referral to Sara Megibow at Nelson Lit. I sent a few chapters to Sara and queried a handful of other agents. Sara got back to be lightning fast and loved the book. She offered me representation. One of the best days ever. :)

4. Revising
Sara gave me feedback on the book and we switched it around a few ways--first putting in more suspense, then backing off that and focusing more on the love story. This was a very good learning experience for me. I discovered I am much more of a contemporary romance writer than a romantic suspense writer. So though my books sometimes have suspense subplots, the focus is solidly on the couple and their romance.

5. Sending it to Editors/Publishing Houses
Just when you get through the trauma of querying agents, you go through another trauma--going on submission to the publishing houses. Getting an agent doesn’t guarantee your book will sell, so there’s always that fear you’ll stall out right at that last stretch. Luckily, Berkley Heat loved the book and offered me a two book deal.

6. Waiting, waiting, and more waiting…
Publishing is not fast. So I spent the time after getting the deal writing book two and a novella. Fifteen months after I got that original call from Berkley (and over two years from the day I started writing the book), CRASH INTO YOU, hit the shelves. It’s been a dream come true. I can’t believe I get to do it again with at least 3 more books. : )

Roni wrote her first romance novel at age fifteen when she discovered writing about boys was way easier than actually talking to them. Since then, her flirting skills haven’t improved, but she likes to think her storytelling ability has. Though she’ll forever be a New Orleans girl at heart, she now lives in Dallas with her husband and son. If she’s not working on her latest sexy story, you can find her reading, watching reality television, or indulging in her unhealthy addiction to rockstars, er, rock concerts. Yeah, that's it. Her debut novel, CRASH INTO YOU, will be published by Berkley Heat January 3, 2012.

Tumblr (where I post mancandy photos): 
Buy links for book: 

Now let's hear about the book

Blurb - Brynn LeBreck has dedicated herself to helping women in crisis, but she never imagined how personal her work would get, or where it would take her. Her younger sister is missing, suspected to be hiding from cops and criminals alike at a highly secretive BDSM retreat—a place where the elite escape to play out their most extreme sexual fantasies. To find her Brynn must go undercover as a sexual submissive. Unfortunately, The Ranch is invitation only. And the one Master who can get her in is from the darkest corner of Brynn’s past.

Brynn knows what attorney Reid Jamison is like once stripped of his conservative suit and tie. Years ago she left herself vulnerable only to have him crush her heart. Now she needs him again. Back on top. And he’s all too willing to engage. But as their primal desires and old wounds are exposed, the sexual games escalate—and so does the danger.  Their hearts aren’t the only things at risk. Someone else is watching, playing by his own rules. And his game could be murder.

Excerpt - *CRASH INTO YOU is told in chapters alternating between the present and ten years earlier. This is from a “past” chapter.*
“That’s one of the things I like about you. You don’t seem to give a damn about who my family is, so I can just relax around you.”
She laughed. “Yeah, once I found out you couldn’t fire me, you lost all shot of me kissing your ass.”
He slipped a hand onto her hip and pulled her closer, their bodies almost touching. “So what’s your stance on kissing other things?”
Every muscle in her body strained to move forward, to close the sliver of distance between them, but she held still. “Probably not a good idea since we work together.”
He smiled and shook his head. “See, you’re always such a half-empty kind of girl. Working together means we’ll get paid to hang out with each other.”
“And everybody in the office will think I’m hanging out with you for the wrong reasons.”
He shrugged. “That’s why we don’t tell. It’s none of their business anyway.”
She chewed her lip. “I like you, Reid, but I don’t know . . . it’s just complicated. I’ve got a lot—”
He put a finger over her mouth, hushing her. “Stop overthinking things, Brynn. It doesn’t have to be so complex. I know you don’t bullshit, so I’m not going to either. Since the first day I met you, I haven’t stopped thinking about what it would be like to touch you.” He cupped her chin and ran his thumb over her lips. “To taste you. I leave the office every day fighting a hard-on because just hearing your voice sets me off.”
She swallowed hard, the blunt words and his finger on her lips throwing gasoline on the flickering flame of longing she’d been fighting since they’d left the office.
“So in about three seconds, I’m going to kiss you. If you don’t want that, you tell me to stop, and I’ll never try again.” He curled his hand around the back of her neck, his gaze tattooing her. “One . . . two . . .”

Thank you Roni for visiting with me today.

And everyone look at the prizes she's giving away.

* One signed set of Romance Trading Cards for "Crash Into You" to a random commenter at every stop.

* A $25 Amazon GC to one randomly drawn commenter during the tour.

* A signed set of Romance Trading Cards for "Crash Into You" AND a basket of romance novels (approx. $50 value) to the host with the most comments (excluding the author's and their own) including: Switch by Megan Hart, Big Jack by J.D. Robb, Enemy Lover by Karin Harlow, Beyond the Night by Joss Ware, and The Fallen: Raziel by Kristina Douglas.

Make sure to follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here:


Friday, January 20, 2012

A Flash from the Past

This is an Egg-cerpt I posted in March 09 

Egg-cerpt for "Her Montana Man" by Cheryl St.John

The fun is starting up again Feb. 22 to April 8. Make sure you are in on the fun and sign up now.


Chapter One
Silver Bend, Montana, May 1885

Jonas Black looked up from his ledgers and flipped open his ornately engraved gold pocket watch. Nearly three already. In preparation to leave his desk, he blotted the numbers he'd just tallied, then rubbed his ink-stained fingers on his denim trousers. There was something he did every afternoon at this time.

"Gonna be trouble at the North Star!" The tall stoop-shouldered man who tended bar rapped on Jonas's open office door at the same time as he shouted.

The North Star was the three-story hotel a few doors down, where Jonas and most of his employees lived. Jonas owned the hotel as well as the Silver Star Saloon.

"Tall fella, but not beefy," Quay told him. "He's hollerin' for Mrs. Holmes."

Jonas didn't bother to grab his jacket. He might talk this man into leaving peaceably, but experience had taught him it might take more than a simple please to appeal to an abuser. No call to ruin a perfectly good coat.

He glanced at the holstered Colt hanging on a peg just inside the door, but deliberately walked past and locked the door behind him.

With the shutters open to the warm afternoon sun, the saloon was warm and bright. The freshly scrubbed floors, the two patrons and the woman polishing the top of the mahogany bar barely registered as he strode for the door and out onto the shaded boardwalk.

"Madeline, come out here now! Don't make me come in and get you."

The stranger stood in the street, a sweaty bay tethered to the post in front of the hotel. His tailored black suit was coated with a layer of dust as though he'd been pushing the mare for the better part of a day. In Jonas's book, men who abused horses ranked right up there with men who mistreated women. Jonas had heard Madeline Holmes's story and drew the easy conclusion that this was the man she'd run from before finding refuge in Silver Bend.

"Don't make me come in there and drag you out!" the man shouted.

"Looking for someone?" Jonas called easily.

"Stay outta this, mister. Ain't none of your concern."

Jonas walked several yards toward the hotel. "Well, seems it is my concern since you're standing there hollerin' at the front windows of my establishment. State your business, Mister…"

"Baslow. This your hotel?"

"That it is. Jonas Black's the name. And you are?"

"I'm lookin' to take a woman back with me. I want Madeline Holmes."

"Is she your wife?"

The angry man deepened the scowl on his already craggy face, and his complexion reddened. "Ain't none of your damned business what she is. All you need to know is that she's comin' with me."

"I guess we can leave that up to Maddie, now, can't we?"

At Jonas's familiar use of her name, Baslow turned his whole body toward Jonas and squinted. "What's she to you?"

"A good employee. I'll go tell her you're here and you can ask her directly what she'd like to do."

The man jerked his head toward the saloon Jonas had exited. Quay still stood just outside the doors.

"She's in there?" Baslow shouted. "Whoring?"

Jonas gestured to a brightly painted wooden sign that hung on the outside of the building. "No sportin' women in my establishment. Maddie's one of my housekeepers."

"The hell you say. Madeline!" he roared, stalking toward the saloon.

Jonas frowned at Baslow's belligerent tone and aggressive stance. Eagerness for the man to try to push past him so he'd have reason to restrain him made his fingers tingle and his blood pump.

Instead, Baslow gave him a wide berth, striding to face the open saloon doors.

Casually, Jonas turned and stepped past Quay into the dim interior. This time his gaze sought and found the dark-haired woman who'd stopped polishing the bar and stood in rigid fear, her eyes as wide as saucers, her face pale. "Frank," she said on a dry rasp.

Jonas thought she might have been pretty once, before abuse and fear had added the appearance of more years to her narrow face. Using intimidation, the man had held her in his home and his bed for eight years. Breaking away had taken courage. Following through with her decision to escape would take even more.

"You don't have to be afraid," Jonas assured her. "Quay and I are right here. The whole of Silver Bend would see if he tried to force you away in plain sight. You don't have to go back with him. He can't make you. Tell him you don't want to leave. Make it loud 'n clear so there are witnesses."

Her frightened gaze moved from Jonas to the doorway. He'd seen the same bleak dread on too many faces, and it made his blood boil. "You're free, Maddie. You have a job and can take care of yourself. You don't need him. He has no control over you except what you give him. From here on out you can live your life any way you see fit. It's up to you."

His words took effect, and her expression changed. Madeline Holmes placed the cloth she'd been holding on the bar and, with precise movements, removed her apron, folded it neatly and set it down. She ran her palms over her skirt in a nervous gesture, then straightened and raised her chin. "He can't make me do anything I don't want to, can he?"

"No, he can't."

She walked toward the doors. Jonas followed.

As she stepped out onto the boardwalk, Baslow's severe gaze narrowed on her. His attention sidled over Jonas and Quay before fixing back on her as though the men were irritating flies he intended to swat later. "If you want to bring anything with you, get it now."

Her hands trembled, but with obvious deliberation she hid them in the folds of her skirts. Jonas cheered silently for her brave front.

"I have a job now. And my own room at the hotel," she said, her voice louder than he'd expected, though a slight tremble betrayed her nervousness. "I'm content to stay right here."

Baslow's thunderous expression darkened even more noticeably.

A few citizens had gathered on the boardwalk across the street and were watching the goings-on with interest. Wouldn't be the first time a fight had erupted in front of his place, Jonas thought, his blood pounding with keen awareness, and it wouldn't be the last. He had never minded a good fight to clear the air.

"You choosing a life of whoring over comin' with me?" Baslow bit out between clenched teeth.

Jonas kept his mouth shut. He'd already told the man there weren't any sporting women at his place, and everyone in town knew it. This was Maddie's chance to speak her piece.

"That's what I felt like when I was with you," she said, coming straight to the heart of the matter. "I don't want to live that way anymore. I'm not your wife." Her voice and demeanor showed renewed strength in her decision. "Nobody hits me," she declared. "And I get a fair wage for a day's work. I can take care of myself just fine."

Baslow headed toward Maddie. "I don't know who fed you that hogwash," he said, "but you belong to me, and you'll do as I say."

She backed away.

Jonas met him before he could reach the shade of the boardwalk. "Remember the brother's war, Baslow? It's against the law to keep slaves."

They stood three feet apart. Baslow's right eye twitched with anger. Jonas's palms tingled.

"Get outta my way, mister, before you regret it."

"Can't do that. Maddie's my employee, and I take care of my people."

Baslow lunged toward Jonas. Jonas dodged his first attempt to reach him, spinning with hands locked together to land a blow on the back of the man's neck.

Caught off guard, Baslow fell to his hands and knees in the dirt, losing his hat. Slowly, he shook his head, and then scrambled to his feet to come after Jonas. The fight was on.

The growing crowd pushed forward for a better look.

Energized now, Jonas raised both fists and bent his knees in readiness. Baslow faced him and they squared off, circling in avid concentration. The man's eyes bored into Jonas's with contempt. Jonas studied his stance, his movements, waited to see how he hit. Faster than Jonas anticipated, Baslow landed a blow to Jonas's shoulder that forced him to catch his balance and got him mad. He retaliated with a quick right that landed on the man's jaw with a crack and drew a grunt from his opponent and a murmur from the crowd.

Jonas didn't feel the hits that came next, though he knew one landed against his ribs and another at his temple. Adrenaline lent him strength and numbed the pain. In the minutes that followed he used the reprieve to his advantage, skillfully finding opportunities to put down punches.

Half-a-dozen solid hits later Baslow's lip was bleeding. He had a cut over his left eye, and he was breathing hard. Jonas watched for and found an opportunity, hit his eye again, then positioned all his muscle into landing a blow to his gut.

The man moaned and doubled over, dropping to his knees in the dirt. He glared up at Jonas, one eye red from streaming blood. "You got no right to keep Madeline."

"You're finally right," Jonas answered. "Nobody's got a right to hold her. She's free to leave, she's free to stay." He turned to Maddie, who'd been watching with both hands clasped under her chin. "You want to go?"

She shook her head and released a pent-up breath. "No."

"You sure? 'Cause we don't want any misunder-standin's. You're free to leave any time you want."

"I want to stay."

"There you have it." Jonas's knuckles were stinging now. "Need any more convincing?"

Marshal Haglar parted the crowd and made his way to stand on the brick street a few feet away. He took in both men's appearances. "What in blazes is goin' on here?"

Maddie immediately ran forward to explain what had taken place. When she'd finished, the marshal turned to the spectators. "That how it happened? Anyone see the whole thing?"

Jonas couldn't remember if anyone had been there during the initial exchange of words. He scanned the faces nearby. People had an aversion to getting involved, especially when a dangerous-looking fellow like Baslow glared at them as though daring someone to speak against him.

The marshal eyed the crowd, and one after another, the bystanders glanced at the person beside them and then away. Jonas figured his reputation and position on the town council would have enough sway. He wasn't a troublemaker, but he never ran from a fight, either. He didn't want to put Warren Haglar in a bad position, and the indifference of the locals irritated him.

Townspeople turned as movement caught their attention, and Jonas looked, too. From the opposite boardwalk, a slender woman in a blue-and-white gingham dress and a straw hat held the hem of her skirts above her shoes and stepped down onto the paving bricks. She walked to within four feet of the law officer. An unexpected tremor stabbed at Jonas's belly.

"I saw the entire incident, Marshal," she said. "I saw that man ride up and shout for Mrs. Holmes."

Of course. Jonas's three o'clock obsession. She'd been on the boardwalk the whole time. Eliza Jane Sutherland was rather tall for a woman, and on the rare occasion that she'd been without a hat, he'd seen that her hair was black and glossy in the sunlight. Jonas had never heard her speak more than a one- or two-word greeting, so now her magnificent silky voice, more than the words she spoke, caught and held his attention.

"Mr. Black came out of his establishment and suggested that he—" she pointed to the scowling stranger "—leave." Her bright amber gaze moved to Jonas.

Something in his chest throbbed at the direct look, something ragged and weighty, something more alarming than facing a dozen angry men in the street.

The marshal asked her several questions and she replied directly. Jonas couldn't take his eyes from her.

Every afternoon, rain or shine, Eliza Jane walked to the small tea shop that was a red brick storefront nestled on the corner beside Earl Mobley's tailor shop on the opposite side of the street. Once inside, she seated herself at a table before the front window, where Bonnie Jacobson brought her a china cup and a pot of tea. Most days Jonas observed her ritual from just inside the door of the saloon where she couldn't see him, but occasionally he found a reason to run an errand to the hardware store across the street in time for her arrival.

Once or twice he'd paused on the boardwalk as she passed and tipped his hat. As soon as she'd raised those amber eyes, his heart thudded in his chest and he'd chastised himself. Nothing and no one intimidated Jonas Black.

Apparently the marshal had no problem accepting the true story now that Eliza Jane had verified it, because he turned to Baslow. "Time you moved on."

Baslow shot Maddie a look of seething rage. "You ain't seen the last of me, woman. Don't think your friends can protect you forever."

"Anything happens to Miss Holmes, and we'll know who to look for," the marshal told him. "I'll be wiring the county seat to let 'em know about this disturbance."

Baslow located his hat where it lay in the street. He snatched it up, whacked it against his thigh and settled it on his head before walking toward his horse and untying it. From the clumsy way he mounted, Jonas suspected he was masking a couple of cracked ribs.

Marshal Haglar watched as the man turned his mount away and galloped out of town. "Stay out of sight, but follow him a ways to make sure he's headed home," he told one of the young men who had a horse tethered across the street.

Once Baslow was out of sight and the man he'd sent was tailing him, the marshal approached Maddie.

"Thank you, Marshal," she said.

"I had the easy part," he replied. "Looks like Jonas got the worst of it."

Maddie looked Jonas over, but after noting the onlookers, a tinge of embarrassment stained her cheeks. "Sorry," she said low enough that only Jonas and the marshal could hear.


It was her whispered “please” that undid him. Low and intimate, it erased all hesitation and had Jonas agreeing to keep Eliza’s secret…no matter what.

Nothing and no one intimidates Jonas Black. Except for Eliza Jane, that is. As the owner of the Silver Star Saloon, he’s used to facing down drunks and gunmen, but he just can’t seem to do more than tip his hat whenever he sees her.

What Jonas doesn’t realize is that Eliza is haunted by a tragic past…and by a dangerous enemy in the present. Now, her fate hangs in the balance, and when she comes to Jonas for help, he makes a discovery that would change both their lives forever. Another powerful story by Cheryl St. John, Her Montana Man will stay with you long after the final page.
~ Doubleday Book Club

Cheryl St.John
Her Montana Man, Harlequin Historical 12/08
The Preacher's Wife, Love Inspired Historical 6/09
Look who's blogging:
Romancing the West:

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Prepare Now for a Great Valentine's Day

Just a friendly reminder than you have less than a month to make Valentine's Day special.


Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Monday, January 16, 2012

Special Guest - Tori St.Claire

First, let's find out a little about Tori St.Claire.

She grew up writing. Hobby quickly turned into passion, and when she discovered the world of romance as a teen, poems and short stories gave way to full length novels with sexy heroes and heroines waiting to be swept off their feet. She wrote her first romance novel at seventeen.

While that manuscript gathered dust-bunnies beneath the bed, she went on to establish herself as a contemporary, historical, and paranormal author under the pen name, Claire Ashgrove. Her writing, however, skirted a fine line between hot and steamy, and motivated by authors she admired, she pushed her boundaries and made the leap into erotica, using the darker side of human nature and on-the-edge suspense to drive grittier, sexier, stories.

Her erotic romantic suspense novels are searingly sensual experiences that unite passion with true emotion, and the all-consuming tie that binds -- love.

Tori can be found at:
Twitter: @claireashgrove

Tori, why don't you give us a writing tip?

Keep An Open Mind

When I wrote what was to become, STRIPPED, my vision for the book was nowhere near the way life played out.  At that time, I was happily writing hot and steamy romance as Claire Ashgrove, and my one endeavor with erotica turned into a blush-fest at the first chapter.  I tried, Lord knows I tried, but when I passed the opening to a seasoned erotica author for comments, she grinned, handed it back to me and said, “It’s good.  But it’s not erotic.”

So I shelved the thought, finished the book as I felt comfortable, and decided there were just some words that wouldn’t come off my fingers.  I maintained that point of view until I went to a conference and grilled some brilliant minds about the erotic genre.

I left the conference thinking, “Well, maybe I’ll try this again when I finish the novella I’m writing.”

By this point, my agent was already shopping STRIPPED.  It had finaled in a couple contests, I knew it pushed some boundaries for straight romantic suspense, but it seemed to be going over pretty well.

And then, she called.

We had an offer contingent on the current book being revised to fit the erotic line.  I skipped past the panic, rambled on about my decision to give erotica a go anyway, and leapt at opportunity.  And here we are.  What was once Lead Me to Innocence, then Untrustable, is now STRIPPED.

Revisions actually proved quite easy.  Surprisingly so.  Writing the second book, LIE TO ME, was much much easier.  I didn’t blush, and amazingly, those words could come off my fingers!

My point in telling you this story is that not once had I considered converting my “romantic suspense” into erotica until someone else saw something inside the manuscript that I was blind to.  I had it firmly locked in my head that I couldn’t do something (even if I was content with not doing), and shut that door, never to look at the handle again.

If you’re writing and someone says, “Hey, you know, have you considered…” and your instinct is to say, “No way,” stop before you answer.  Other people can see strengths in your writing that aren’t obvious to you.  It’s worth the time to give the suggestion a little thought.

If you are toying with an idea – take the leap, go for it.  It might be completely outside your comfort zone, but don’t convince yourself that just because you haven’t, that you can’t.  I have an author friend who struggled with this not so long ago.  She had an idea she thought was fantastic.  Others warded her off, warned her it was too risky, too non-standard.  She threw all the opinions to the wayside, followed what her gut was saying she should do, and she’s doing quite well with the product.  People are biting on this “project that fell outside the boundaries.”

Even more so, if you’re writing and you’re hitting that place where no one’s biting on your story, then take a step back.  Look and see if you can keep your story, but alter it enough to create opportunity for it.

Now, I’m a big proponent of knowing when to stop editing your manuscript and when to move on to the next story.  So I’m not saying rewrite your novel five times because it might go five different ways.  You’d probably have better luck applying that effort to something new.  But that’s an entirely different discussion.

My point – keep an open mind. There is no one, concrete, way for a novel to work.  No one method or genre that’s the end-all be all.  Opportunity exists, it’s always there somewhere.

The more open you are to considering options, --both with your own writing and the industry as a whole-- the more likely your efforts will be rewarded.

And maybe, like I did, you’ll find a second comfort zone and a new passion to occupy your time.


The Blurb.

Body of secrets…

As a member of the CIA’s elite, Black Opals, Natalya Trubachev must live a lie, working undercover as the lover of Dmitri, a Russian mob boss. His business is trafficking vulnerable Las Vegas strippers overseas for twisted sex games. Natalya’s business is to blow the ring wide open and bring down Dmitri and his American contacts. But the stakes are raised when she learns that the next target is her own sister Kate, a dancer in the famed club Fantasia. Only now does Natalya realize how personal her mission has become, and how far she’s willing to go to complete it.

Body of lies…

The manager of Fantasia is Brandon Moretti, an undercover detective who keeps a close eye on his girls, and an even closer one on his sinfully sensual hire. For Natalya, working the club could be the break she’s been waiting for. But for Moretti, Natalya is a possible link to a killer. Only he never counted on her being so lethally seductive or so dangerous to get close to.  As every forbidden pleasure between them is stripped away, his own secrets threaten their security, but it’s Natalya’s that could destroy them both.


“Tell me what you want, beautiful.” His breath rasped over her cheek. Featherlight kisses accompanied the whisper, trailing across her skin in a taunting path toward her mouth.

Kiss me. She turned her head in search of lips she instinctively knew would be warm, the words on the tip of her tongue. Kiss me until I don’t care whether I live or die.

Honesty. Just once.

He caught her lower lip with his teeth, the nip nowhere near gentle. But the lazy stroke of his tongue soothed the stinging bite. She parted her lips, dipped her tongue out to touch his.

Brandon’s body tightened like a whip. The pressure in her lower back increased as his fingers curled into her skin. Their breaths mingled. The tips of their tongues met in a slow, sensual dance. As another spasm of ecstasy threatened to send her tumbling into his solid chest, she braced her hands on his shoulders.

And then Brandon was gone, the magic of his fingers disappearing as he stepped back and set both hands on her waist. His gaze scorched in to flood her body with tingles. He waited, his question unspoken, but hanging between them.

Tell me what you want.

Clearly he intended to make her admit she wanted to feel him deep inside her. Wanted to experience the slide of his bare skin against hers. And God, how she wanted to kiss him. To taste the desire that burned in his gaze and the indescribable flavor of hot, aroused man.

Confessing might lead her to an early grave, but for once, her conscious would be clear. She swallowed hard and dug deep for the courage that had kept her alive these last three years. His gaze followed the sweep of her tongue as she moistened her lips.

 “Kiss me.” Her senses honed in on her whisper, amplifying it and the ragged fall of their mutual breathing. She became aware of every minuscule sound as she waited for Brandon to either dip his head and honor her request, or shove her aside with a wicked sneer.

He took a step closer, bringing their bodies in contact from chest to toes. One arm wrapped around her waist, then slid up her back to offer support between her shoulder blades. The other tangled in her hair, tipping her head back. Putting her where he wanted her—subtle dominance that thrilled her in places she hadn’t known existed. Her womb clamped hard, sending another rush of moisture through her pussy.

His mouth descended. Warm lips played against hers, drawing her into the spell his body wove. Pulling her in so deep she struggled for air.

The sudden, brassy ring of her cell phone jolted her out of hazy desire. She froze. With Kate and Sergei due to arrive at Fantasia any minute, there could only be one other person calling at this time of day—Dmitri. It would be almost one in the morning in Moscow. The time Dmitri put aside his work and crawled into bed. He’d want to talk before he slept.

“Don’t answer that,” Brandon whispered against her mouth.

Damn if those lips weren’t compelling. She’d had his mouth on her breast, knew the incredible magic his tongue could create there, but had yet to experience the tantalizing slide of his tongue against hers. The need to feel his mouth on hers, to get lost in his potent masculinity pressed her to ignore the ringing tones.

Duty, however, rose up screaming. If she didn’t answer, Dmitri would get suspicious. “I have to.”

Thanks Tori for stopping by.

Also remember to follow her tour. She is giving away a $25 Amazon GC to one randomly drawn commenter during the tour and to the host with the most comments,the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here:


“Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson

That's why when it comes to falling for someone new we are full of joy.

The enthusiasm for sharing our life with a new person takes our breath away.


Friday, January 13, 2012

CaveMan Hunt

Now, if the right man was wearing this costume. Would you want to be clubbed and drug back to his cave?

Interesting question.

And what a way to celebrate Friday the 13th.


Find costume at

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Naughty Princess

Star Wars fans, here's a costume to entice a wild night of fun.

Maybe not Princess Lela, but still a costume to get you noticed.

Hope you have fun with your prince.


Find the costume at

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Special Guest - Janine Ashbless

Janine Ashbless is a multi-published author of erotic romance and erotica. Her first book was published in 2000 by Black Lace and she currently writes for Samhain and Ellora's Cave among others. She’s always used elements of fantasy, mythology and folklore in her writing, with occasional forays into horror.

Janine loves goatee beards, ancient ruins, minotaurs, trees, mummies, having her cake and eating it, holidaying in countries with really bad public sewerage, and any movie or TV series featuring men in very few clothes beating hell out of each other. She’s a roleplaying geek and can still sometimes be found running round in the woods hitting other geeks with a rubber sword. It is unlikely she will grow up anytime soon.

Janine lives in Yorkshire, England, with her husband and two rescued greyhounds, and is trying hard to overcome her addiction to semicolons.


Samhain webpage for book:

Where did the idea for Heart of Flame come from?

Well, I've wanted to write an Arabian Nights fantasy for ages. Are you old enough to remember movies - long before Prince of Persia - like Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger, or The Thief of Baghdad? I found those so exciting when I was a kid – the costumes, the magic, the monsters and the adventure (Oh my goodness – Ray Harryhausen plasticine stop-motion monsters! How I love them!). I really just wanted to write a Sinbad story, but with added hot romance and strong female characters.

The Middle East has fascinated me for years. I've actually been lucky enough to visit Egypt and Syria and Jordan and Turkey, and the natural beauty and the layers of history accreted in these countries just blow me away. And in the medieval period in particular, a time when Brits like me were living in mud huts, the Middle East was enjoying a golden age of learning and civilisation.

Plus, I love 19th Century Orientalist art – that is, paintings by people like Jean-Léon Gérôme of bazaars and harems and caravanserai. They're obsessively realistic in detail and incredibly atmospheric, all filtered through a Victorian mindset of exoticism and romance, nervousness and wonder. I wanted to write that.

The plot? No clue. Seriously, I have no memory of where the plot came from. I just sat down and wrote. It was like putting together pieces of a jigsaw I’d been collecting all my life. Everything falls into place logically. I wanted a heroine who goes on a dangerous quest, so in that setting she'd have to be a sorceress. What would drive her to risk her life? To aid the man she's fallen in love with. What motivates him? It can't be tawdry material gain, or not entirely – so how about, the rescue of a princess then. Who has abducted a princess? Well, let's make it a real challenge and say it's a powerful genie. So we already have heaps of magic, a journey into deadly peril, a sorceress in disguise, unspoken passion, a conflict of interests and sexual threat. And I knew I wanted them to visit the ruined city of Ctesiphon, the Empty Quarter of the Arabian desert, the House of Wisdom, the Swamps of Basra ... all real and extraordinary places. Why would they have to travel so far? Well, let's give them a domino plot: to get A they have to do B, to do B they have to find C, to find C they have to ask D ... and on and on until they are in deep trouble ... and in love.

So I think it just wrote itself really.
Or maybe I just have a rubbish memory.

Janine Ashbless

Now for the Book Blurb:

And on the One-Thousand-and-Second night, Scheherazade told this story…

By day, Taqla uses her forbidden sorcery to move freely about the city of Damascus in the guise of an old sage. Her true identity known only by her faithful servant woman, Taqla is content with the comfortable, if restrictive, life that keeps her safe from the control of any man. Until she lays eyes on a handsome merchant-traveler. Suddenly her magical disguise doesn’t rest so easily on her shoulders.

When long-time widower, Rafiq, hears that the Amir’s beautiful daughter has been kidnapped by a scheming djinni—and that she will be given in marriage to her rescuer—he seeks the help of “Umar the Wise” to ensure he will be that man. Yet as he and the disguised Taqla set off, he senses that his prickly male companion is hiding something.

In a moment of dire peril, all of Taqla’s secrets are stripped bare—her fears, her sorcery and, worst of all, her love for Rafiq. Yet the princess’s life hangs in the balance, and there is no running away or turning back. Even though passion may yet betray them all...

Warning: Scary monsters and creepy ruins in the desert—check. Pagan gods that demand blood-sacrifices—double check. A handsome hero who looks good in a robe and even better out of it—oh yeah. Check, check and check. That’s worth a heroine dropping a veil or two.

And the Excerpt

A thin, high wail cut into their ears. They both froze, and Rafiq lifted his head. Taqla saw the color drain from his face.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“I think it’s the djinni killing Ahleme,” said he.
There was another noise, a roar, like a lion upon a desert horizon. Snow sifted down from the steep walls of the ravine at its note. Then a howl harsher than a falcon’s made Taqla’s blood curdle. The two, roar and howl, rose together in a cacophony.
“And that?” she gasped.
“That’ll be the other djinni.”
“There are two?” She struggled from beneath him into a sitting position.
“Apparently so.” Rafiq knelt up. “One wanting to sire his children on her, one wanting to stop it.”
The first thin scream echoed out again.
 “They’ll tear her in half.” Taqla scrambled to her feet. “Come on. We have to try and save her, at least.”
He sucked his cheeks, but nodded and joined her standing. “How do we get there?”
“Like this,” she said, gritting her teeth and stepping away to give herself room. Then she changed shape. Not smaller than her own form, this time, but much bigger. It didn’t hurt so much as shrinking herself, but it hurt enough to make her cry out. The sound was musical as it left her throat. She shook out her copper-colored feathers and clawed at the snow, a perfect facsimile of the Senmurw-bird.
“In the name of God!”
“Get up on my back,” she fluted, “and hold tight.”

Thanks Janine for stopping by and for giving away a PDF copy of your novella "The King's Viper to one randomly drawn commenter. 

So everyone make sure to leave a comment for your chance to win.


Monday, January 9, 2012

Sail Away with Me

Now here is a reason to head for the sea.

How would you like to be shipwreck with this hunk?

Anyone game,


Find costume at

Friday, January 6, 2012

18 & Over Book Blogger Hop - Question #3

    Question of the Week: 

Do you read multiple books at a time or stick to one? 
My Answer: I stick to one at a time. Once I'm in a story I can't drop it. I'm living the tale and don't like to leave until I have run the course of the story. 

It IS the 18 and Over Blog Hop.... I'm just sayin'

Have a great weekend,


Thursday, January 5, 2012

Newly Remodel Website

If you'll look above you'll see that I've add links to my website and changed the heading of this blog so that it now matches the rest of my website.

Now, you can find out more about me and my books with just a few clicks.

Hope you like it,


Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Working on a New Website

Hi everyone,

I'm currently working on changing up my website. Hopefully by the end of the day, I'll have it live.

Have a great hump day,


Monday, January 2, 2012

New Pricing on My Books

Wow, now you can get my books for less at

Check them out and see the great deals going on now at Wild Rose Press.

Only 99 cents