Some Love for Betrayed Vows @KyannWaters

Hi Anita

Thank you so much for having me today. Betrayed Vows just released and I’m thrilled about the book.

Are your characters based on real people?

No, but I do have a friend who made the penitentiary his residence a few times. Landon says a few things that I learned from my interviews with my friend.

“There are only three things you need to know about prison,” he whispered as he held up three fingers. “Fight, fuck, or hit the fence. You learn real quick which one you’re going to do. Do you want to ask me, Gretchen?”

Do you have trouble saying goodbye to characters?

Sometimes. Some characters I’ll never really say goodbye to like Theron from my Blood Slave books or the 6 pack from Johnny Loves Krissy. They came to mean more to me than words on a page. I’m ready for Betrayed Vows to release. I’m ready to say goodbye to the characters even though I really enjoyed writing their story.

Do you have to travel researching your books?

Not really. I generally write about places I’ve been and know.  Betrayed Vows is set in my area. I changed it up, took artistic liberty, but the mountains, neighborhoods and large family life is all a page out of my own life. I’ve been to trials, parole hearings and prison visiting rooms. I’ve accepted collect calls from prison and put money on a prisoner’s books.

What is your favorite drink?

What is sad is that I can’t drink my favorite drinks anymore. I LOVE coffee. But more than a half a cup in the morning now gives me headaches and upsets my stomach.

I love Tanqueray and tonic, but I can’t drink alcohol anymore. I have mal d'embarquement syndrome. Which basically means I’m a little dizzy, like a slight alcohol buzz, all the time. Certain triggers make it worse. I’ve always had it but as I’ve gotten older, I have more triggers.

What’s something fans would find fascinating about you?

I’m not sure anything about me is fascinating. But I am a mess of contradictions. I grew in a religious home and married an atheist. I write naughty erotic romance but my favorite reruns on televisions are episodes of Little House on the Prairie. (I even own the seasons on DVD). My favorite season is winter, but I don’t enjoy being out in the snow.

Betrayed Vows

Everything in Gretchen Booker’s life was as she wanted it. A husband on her terms. Companionship without physical contact. That’s why she married a lifer. Who would’ve thought it would all come to an end after only ten years?

Life on the outside is not as Landon Booker expected. But how can he make a future for himself beyond prison walls when the woman who is supposed to love him wants to see him sent back to the penitentiary.

Crystal Evans isn’t a home wrecker. Landon needs a friend…someone who can help protect him from his conspiring wife. Falling in love wasn’t part of the plan.

Yet vows betrayed leave all three with something to lose—Crystal her heart, Landon his freedom, and Gretchen the life she had before.

To Purchase

http://amzn.com/B00K1KNFZQ

Excerpt:

Gretchen was in the kitchen. Pots and pans clanked loudly on the stove. Patience, he told himself. She was nervous. Hell, he was scared, too. Unlike Gretchen, his had been a forced solitary life. She’d been comfortable with the previous dynamics of their marriage. That was the only sentiment coming through loud and clear.

Prowling around the room, he opened the dresser drawers. Curious, his wife saw him as a tighty-whitey man. Undershirts, white crew length socks, and a few pairs of black dress socks were neatly organized in the top two drawers. The bottom three were empty. Sliding open the mirrored closet door, he was surprised to see a couple pairs of jeans and some rather nice looking golf shirts. New white sneakers and a pair of men’s slippers sat perfectly aligned on the floor.

Leaving the bedroom with plain white walls and devoid of any décor, he walked down the hallway. Looking in another bedroom, he pulled open the closet doors and basically familiarized himself with the upstairs floor plan. Finally, he opened the door to the master bedroom.

Traces of Gretchen’s scent lingered on the air. A mass of pillows exploded on top of the elegant spread draping the bed. Creams and burgundies. Soft and feminine.

“Dinner’s ready.”

Landon jumped at the sound of her voice behind him. The reproachful gleam in her narrowed eyes took aim straight into his chest. “I was just looking around. Getting familiar with my home.”

“You should’ve asked. I would’ve shown you around.” She pulled the door to her room closed and headed back down the stairs.

Landon followed, feeling like a child rebuked for his ill-manners.

“Do you like salmon? It’s fresh. And I made rice pilaf.”

Landon sat at the table. “I’m used to tuna fish and instant rice.” He laughed at her wide eyes and open mouth. “Listen, baby.” He went to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Couples go through this after a long separation.” He lifted her chin. “We’re not strangers, but it still feels that way.” When she pulled back, he let her go.

You can find me on—

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KyAnn Waters is a multi-published, award winning author of erotic romance. She lives in Utah with her husband, two children, and two dogs. She spends her days writing and her evenings with her family. She enjoys sporting events on the television, thrillers on the big screen, and hot scenes between the pages of her books.

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Thanks KyAnn for stopping by,

Anita

Flash from the Past Posts - The Cougar Meets her Master

Title: The Cougar Meets Her Master
Author: KyAnn Waters
Price: $1.99
At The Wilder Roses

Blurb: 

Taylor Davis is turning 40. Her high powered job leaves little room for romance outside of her high powered vibrator that sleeps under her pillow. No pillow talk allowed. And no complaints from her. The rabbit never quits before she's done, doesn't complicate her calendar, and Taylor doesn't have to concoct excuses to make it go home after orgasms.
Enter Colt Foster. Has the bitch of the Beau Monde Hotel and Casino met her match? The hot, young detective has his own rules...and expects Taylor to play by them. Can she say no when Colt slaps on the cuffs? Does she want to...will he let her?

Excerpt:

Taylor took long even breaths to keep her knees from shaking. Could she fuck her best friend's nephew? It wasn't as if Colt was an eighteen-year-old high school graduate. Clearly, Rachel had meant collegiate when she mentioned his graduation.

Taylor's position at the hotel made her aggressive, dominant and stole her femininity. When Colt stared into her eyes, all she felt were flutters. Some twisted part of her wanted to see if she could please a man like Colt, a real man that saw her as a woman. Every thing about him screamed sex. Hot, sweaty, curl the toes fucking that would leave her body spent and her mind numb.

Could she say yes? Damn, would he let her say no?

She stood, shook out her hair and sighed. "Let's go." It surprised her that she said the words like it meant absolutely nothing to her that a man at least ten years her junior was about to take her to bed. It was a huge fucking deal. She didn't take men to her suite...to her bed. Rachel had asked her to get him a room...not her bedroom.

Moisture damped her panties, and her nipples were painfully tight. She'd noticed the way he stared in the gym. Definitely a breast man.

She crossed the lobby with Colt towering beside her. Tall, cut and devastatingly handsome, how stupid could she be? Of course, she was going to fuck him.

The elevator doors opened. Colt stepped in behind her. As soon as the doors closed, his hand snaked out and wrapped around her wrist. He hauled her against his chiseled chest.

"Not here," she whispered. "This is a casino. You're watched everywhere except the privacy of your room. I'm not letting my staff see me groped in an elevator." She ran her hands over his sculpted pectorals.

He angled her body closer to his. "They can't see you grope me." He covered her hand and drew it down his torso, over his rippled abs to cup the swollen length of his erection behind the fly of his jeans.

Her trembling fingers gripped his bulge and measured the thickness. The elevator doors opened, and a couple stepped in with them. Taylor spun around, facing the doors, and smiled. "Good evening."

The older gentleman nodded his head, stood next to his companion and faced the doors. Shit, doesn't Colt listen? He moved behind her and fit the persistent, engorged weapon contained in his jeans into the crack of her ass. With subtle movements, he ground against her.

She couldn't help arching her back. Reckless. Wanton. Wild. Heat radiated off Colt and blazed through the thin fabric of her clothing. She wanted him feeling as out of control as she was, only he didn't seem to care that they were in a public place. In fact, the moan that just tickled her ear made the gentleman glance over his shoulder at them. She smiled.

Hell, Lady Luck had to be a woman because she understood the magnetic attraction of formidable men. The elevator stopped on the twentieth floor.

"Excuse us." Colt propelled her out of the elevator.

Her hearty laugh echoed in the corridor. "I hope not everything about you is this rushed."


Get Wet with KyAnn Waters
www.KyAnnWaters.com
www.EroticCravings.com
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/EroticCravings
http://kyannwaters.blogspot.com

Also, check out her free read at wildrosepress

Thanks KyAnn for sharing,

Anita

How did Mistletoe come to mean a kiss?

Although many sources say that kissing under the mistletoe is an English custom, there's another explanation for its origin. In Norse mythology there is a story of a loving, if overprotective, mother.

Frigga was mother to the Norse god Balder, the best loved of all the gods. Frigga was the goddess of love and beauty and she loved her son. To ensure no harm would come to him, she went through the world securing promises from everything that sprang from the four elements--fire, water, air, and earth--that they would not harm her beloved Balder.

Leave it to Loki, a mischievous spirit, to find the loophole. Mistletoe and an arrow made from its wood. To make the prank even nastier, he took the arrow to Hoder, Balder's brother, who was blind. Guiding Holder's hand, Loki directed the arrow at Balder's heart and Balder fell dead.
Frigga's tears became the mistletoe's white berries. In the version of the story with a happy ending, Balder is restored to life and Frigga is so grateful that she reverses the murderous reputation of Mistletoe, making it a symbol of love and promising to bestow a kiss upon anyone who passes under it.

So hang some mistletoe and pucker up!

Information gleaned from numerous online searches for mistletoe lore.

 Now for a naughty excerpt from the Naughty List.

T’was a week before Christmas and Mrs. Claus conspires. Proposition Jack Frost to give Santa his greatest desire…

The deviant Dominant Jack Frost can be good…very good. But for being so good at being so bad, Santa keeps him on the naughty list. What would Jack do to get on the good list? Kidnap Santa? With the help of Mrs. Claus, Jack could force Santa’s submission and give him the one thing he’s always wanted—to be on the naughty list himself. Then Jack could show Santa just how very good he can be.

Adult excerpt

Jack tugged on the black buckle of Santa’s belt. “Come into my workshop—my toy shop. We’re going to play.”

Adrenaline like molten lava, blazed through Santa. Jack’s workshop wasn’t like the brightly lit jovial environment where Santa and his elves put in their fifteen-hour shifts. His gaze darted around the spacious room in the secluded log cabin. Instead of rustic comfort, Jack’s lair was a den of iniquity. Tools for torturous pleasures lined wooden shelves along the wall. Chairs, benches and machines were situated around the room. Santa swallowed hard, the collar biting into his neck. His heart pounded. He’d seen this room many times in his magic snow globe—when he was checking to see if Jack were being naughty or nice. Santa fought to keep from glancing to the far corner, the corner hidden in shadow.

Santa slowed his breathing, tried to keep from becoming aroused, but he knew what hid in the darkened corner—a padded bench. A BDSM bed. Iron girders built the frame. An iron canopy offered fasteners for wicked delights. Straps, belts and bindings. Cuffs, chains and torturous tools. Would Jack leave him bound to the bench, keep him immobile while Jack sucked his dick, or fucked him with the machine. No, Santa wouldn’t be victim of Jack’s deviant machinations. Santa didn’t want to want in the corner, locked to the table, his ass exposed and the fucking machine ramming into him. But he did.

In the center of the room, Jack positioned Santa. “Don’t do this,” Santa begged.

“You’ll have to be more specific Santa.” Jack secured the O-ring connecting Santa’s cuffed hands to a steel chain. The chain was mounted to the ceiling. Jack tugged the chain, sliding the steel links through a pulley until Santa’s arms rose over his head.

Santa’s arms stretched high, muscles bunch and ripped and his wrists were bound together. His fingers were already numb. He relaxed his fisted hands and tried to calmly reason with Jack. “I can’t be more specific. What is all this tomfoolery?” He uselessly tugged on the chain. He was Jack’s hostage.

Jack smoothed his palms over the bunched muscles of Santa’s arms, along his shoulders and onto his chest, toying with the silken hairs on his pectorals. “There is more than one way to have fun. We’re going to play with my toys.” Jack dropped to his knees on the floor. He secured the leather cuff around Santa’s left ankle to the steel hook in the flooring. “Spread your legs, Santa.” He did. The click of the lock on his right ankle heightened his anxiety. “Now that I know you’ve accepted my invitation to stay, I can help you get more comfortable.”

“But I didn’t accept.”

Jack tsked. “You haven’t put up much of a fight.” Jack pivoted and took a long pair of shears from the worktable.

“I can’t fight you, Jack.”

Jack smiled. “I know. That’s what makes your submission all the sweeter.” Jack slid the edge of the sheer under Santa’s T-shirt. His stomach quivered with the touch of cold steel. The first snip echoed through the room. “Mrs. Claus told me what you were hiding under all this finery. I want to…well, I was going to say I want to see for myself. But I’m going to do more than look. I’m going to touch for myself.” Jack snipped the shirt from waist to neck. Each quick cut sent rousing frissons skittering through Santa.

Jack slipped the fabric over the hard ridge of Santa’s shoulder, his fingertips scoring Santa’s flesh. Santa sucked in a breath. His exposed skin shivered in the cool cabin air. His nipples beaded and yet he was hot. Sweat trickled along his spine. “What are you going to do to me?” Would Jack detect the thrill beneath the concern?

“Ah, Santa, you should know it’s better not to tell.” He tapped Santa’s cheek. “Half the fun is in the surprise.” Jack had unbuckled Santa’s belt in the sleigh. Now he slowly slid the leather from the loops. He snapped the belt. Santa jerked at the crack of the leather. His cock swelled, hard and pulsing against his groin.

Santa was in a quandary. He could not lie nor could he partake of the naughty pleasure Jack promised. “I want to return to my workshop. Christmas is only a week away.”

“Hmm. That poses a problem.” Jack took the shears in hand and slipped the blades into the waistband of Santa’s trousers. Cutting the fabric along Santa’s thigh, Jack stripped him of the last of his clothing. “You have nothing to wear.”

Naked with Jack. Anchored to the floor by his ankles, arms stretched toward the ceiling, collar and cock. Santa was at Jack’s mercy and a plea for more was on the tip of his tongue. “No,” he mumbled. He shook his head and slowly closed his eyes. This secret desire would destroy all he cherished. His role in the world gone for a chance to be ravished. “No.”

Jack snapped the belt across Santa’s exposed buttocks.

“No!” he bellowed, arching away from the sting.

“I told you no one will hear your cries.” Jack pulled his arm back then unleashed another powerful blow. The belt snapped, smiting Santa high on the buttocks. Muscles tensed. The chains pulled taut. Santa nearly bit his tongue as a blistering heat bloomed beneath his skin.

“If you continue to say no—” Jack crisscrossed the strikes with another. “I’ll be forced to gag you.” Jack heaved a breath and lowered his arm. “You should have rosy cheeks.” Jack slowly circled Santa, his hungry gaze eating him up. “Now you do.”

Santa dropped his head forward, feeling the pinch of the collar on his neck. The chains attached to his wrists held him up. His muscles burned and they’d only just begun. “Please.”

“Please what?” Jack closed his fist around Santa’s shaft. His fingers were strong as they squeezed and stroked. Santa was used to Abby’s feminine touch and her sex kitten ways—all the time craving something more. Craving Jack. Abby had known, had realized that like her, he wished for something more. But unlike Abby, he’d never had his wish.

Lust unfurled in Santa, washing over him and making him ache to be naughty. Could he? What would happen if Santa found himself on the naughty list? He was Santa after all. Who would tell?

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Don't forget to stop here every day from December 9 – 16 for another post and another chance to win! I hope you have lots of fun Making Santa’s Naughty List!

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One lucky commenter  will receive a book of choice from my backlist!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
KyAnn

Born Into Fire

Born Into Fire
Blurb
Paranormal (Elemental Shapeshifters) Erotic Romance

Ryalda, the Element heroes of old, leak from the void and bring with them beauty, desire . . . and destruction. Change is hard, but the metamorphous into fire goes beyond any change Kenna Lang imagined. When she discovers her ancestors are ancient beings who exist in a void beyond our universe, and the dragons of her childhood dreams are real, life as she knows it is over.

Erion, an Air Element, answers the call of Kenna’s emerging fire to discover a woman on the cusp of transformation. He’s drawn to her, the need to mate overwhelming. However, Erion killed once before by having sex in element form, and has sworn not to merge with another Element. But the discovery that a male Fire Element is intent upon enslaving Kenna’s soul forces Erion to get involved. He will save her. But he aches to do more than protect her. He wants to touch her—to pleasure her, but he won’t bond his Element to hers.

Erion is unprepared for the emotions Kenna awakens in him—or the lengths to which she will go to save him.

An Excerpt from KyAnn Waters & Tarah Scott's Born into Fire

Erion breathed deep and kissed her, releasing a breath into her mouth and, despite knowing he only shortened their time, fed the fire emerging in her.

The tingle increased, vibrating out his cock. As her element drew closer to the surface, she would need more from him. Like any hungry beast, she would take as much as he allowed. She deepened the kiss, her mouth moist and warm. He envisioned endless days with her at the furnace, him feeding her fire while she created art, her feeding his need for her. Tasting her, licking her, fucking her. He was her mate. It should be him who completed her just as she would him. Instead, he was the man who would spread dirt over her empty grave if he stayed with her.

Kenna hugged him tighter, and his heart wrenched. Those days would remain a dream. He would stay until that last moment before she transformed. The Giris. Right now, he planned on making her come, again and again, until she screamed. Then burst into flames, his mind quietly added, but—Erion’s mind jerked to attention in unison with the slam of a car door.

Hadyn Stiles.

Kenna broke from the kiss. She hurried to the window on the street side of the workshop and shoved back the curtain. Hairs prickled on the back of Erion’s neck. Hadyn strode up the driveway.

Erion was instantly behind Kenna. He slipped an arm around her waist and pressed his chest to her back. He forced back the impulse to shift into element and wrap her in a protective vacuum. She wasn’t ready to shift—he sure as hell wasn’t ready to confess the truth about himself. Fear of telling her and fear of Hadyn exposing him shot to the surface in a chaotic jumble. How will I explain the truth? Would she feel betrayed?

She turned in his arms. “It’s only Hadyn. He’s harmless. I met him at the gallery. I’ll give him credit for tenacity. The guy won’t take a hint.”

Erion looked past her out the window. She was mistaken. The tall, blond-haired man walking up the driveway was anything but harmless. What was he up to? Hadyn knew Erion was here just as Erion had sensed his presence, yet he was paying a visit as any normal human would.

Erion dropped his gaze back to Kenna’s face and trailed a finger along her cheek. “We men know a good thing when we see it.”

She shrugged. “There’s a big difference—and I don’t mean that.” She glanced at his crotch and grinned. “I hope you don’t think I sleep with all the men I meet, because I don’t.” She winked. “Just the smart-asses.”

Gratitude washed over him. If he hadn’t found Kenna before Hadyn exposed his element to her, she would have bonded to him, perhaps even desired him. But she desired Erion—without the bond. She might not understand why she wanted him, but she did, and no one could take that from him.

Kenna planted a kiss on his jaw. “I’ll get rid of him.” Erion released her and lifted his gaze to stare out the window and straight into Hadyn’s eyes. Fiery embers crackled in those blue depths. Wind whipped inside Erion in reaction to the Fire Element’s proximity. Erion veiled his thoughts, especially his feelings for Kenna. The Fire Element couldn’t be allowed to glean any information about the driving force behind their connection. A terrifying thought struck. Was it too late? Had Hadyn already deduced the truth? Was that why Hadyn had attacked him? No. That didn’t make sense. If Hadyn knew, he would simply wait for that moment of weakness when Erion and Kenna’s spark’s merged, then kill him and take Kenna.

Hadyn strode four more paces and reached the door as Kenna opened it. “Hadyn, I’m sorry, but I wish you had called. I’m working and don’t have time for company.”

Hadyn smiled, but a pulse in the side of his jaw belied the action. Frustration showed on Kenna’s face. If she had any idea how her open choice of him over Hadyn fueled his anger, she would get as far away from him as possible.

“I had hoped I was more than just company,” Hadyn said.

Satisfaction shot through Erion when none of Kenna’s heat ignited for Hadyn.

He stepped forward, and she automatically moved aside. He halted in the threshold, his eyes locked with Erion’s. “I thought you didn’t have time for company.”

“Erion and I are working.”

“Erion,” Hadyn repeated, then murmured, “Air.”

“What?” Kenna glanced at Erion.

Erion gave her a soft smile. “Erion is Albanian for wind.”

Her brow furrowed, and his heart leaped at the thought she might recognize the significance of the name.

She smiled. “I like it. Now,” she started for the furnace, “if you’ll excuse us, Hadyn.”

Hadyn’s gaze dropped to her ass, and Erion realized he smelled their sex. Hadyn’s gaze jerked to the open button of Erion’s jeans, then up to his eyes.

“Careful,” Erion cautioned. “She is not yet aware of her element. Force her before her time, and I will kill you.”

Hadyn sneered. “As you did when you ran from me in the parking lot?”

Erion gave a mocking laugh, then inhaled a small breath and sent a quiet swirl of air across the room. The edges of Hadyn’s shirt ruffled.

The space around Erion heated with the narrowing of Hadyn’s eyes. The look dissolved into a condescending twist of his mouth. “No”, Hadyn telepathically replied, “her fire is still buried within”. “You have no claim.”

“What was that, Hadyn?” she asked.

“I said, you fixed the flame. I see your furnace is working.”

“Yes,” she replied absently and bent over the scalloped bowl.

Hadyn’s glare cut back to Erion. “She is mine”. He took a threatening step forward.

“I have to work.” They both turned to see Kenna sitting at her bench, brows raised. “Put away the testosterone. Hadyn, I’ll see you later.”

“I can show you out,” Erion said.

“I know the way.” “And I will be back.”

The door blew open.

Hadyn stopped.

“Damn door!” Kenna cried.

Erion glared. I’ll be waiting.

Hadyn whirled and strode through the door without a backward glance. Erion took three steps, softly clicked the door shut, and faced Kenna.

Buy link http://www.amazon.com/Born-into-Fire/dp/B00D95ECDE/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1372449078&sr=1-4

What a hot book, thanks for sharing KyAnn.

You are the best,

 Anita