romance

Guest Author: Peyton Brittany Clarke

Join me in welcoming Peyton Brittany Clarke and her newest release, Bound to Them (Siren Menage Amour: Erotic Consensual Cowboy BDSM Menage a Trois Romance, M/M/F, HEA)


Jake Hargate is a man with a past. Born into a rich and powerful political family in Massachusetts, they were all raised to believe one thing: protect the family's interests at all costs. After leaving that life behind, Jake finds love and happiness married to Max Krause, a Dom, and Ally Renjel, a submissive. Being Max's submissive gives Jake the security he needs, and topping Ally gives him the control he craves.

But when a political scandal threatens to ruin Jake's brother, a prominent governor who hopes to move up the political ladder, Jake is drawn into a dark world of vengeance he swore he'd never enter again. Jake's family gives him a choice: help them or risk the life he cherishes with Max and Ally.

Deciding to do whatever it takes to protect Max and Ally, Jake is drawn into a world of darkness. Will Max and Ally be able to rescue him, or will Jake be lost forever?

Note: This book contains double vaginal penetration.

A Siren Erotic Romance

STORY EXCERPT Lear went to his favorite chair and sat down. He leaned back, crossed one leg over the other, and tapped his fingers on his thigh. If Baldwin’s marriage fell apart, his own life would go to crap. Not only would he be out of a very cushy, well paying job but he’d also lose access to the best pussy he’d had in a long time and the child it produced.

It was better for everyone to keep everything moving forward as planned. And in order to do that they had to make sure the public kept believing that Baldwin and Eleanor were happy and very much in love despite the rumors. Problem was Phoebe Jones was determined to get to the bottom of this affair thing and ferret out the truth.

“Phoebe may be snooping around, but she doesn’t know anything yet.”

“Tell that to my press secretary,” Baldwin said dryly. “She’s been fielding calls from that woman every day. And we’re both tired of it.”

I bet you are. It’s probably because it’s interrupting your fuck sessions.

“Really? I thought you liked having a reporter on your ass day and night.” Lear grinned savoring the little jab. His brother was a namby-pamby, he needed to have a little dirt shoved in his face on occasion.

As Baldwin’s senior adviser, aka crisis manager, it was his job to watch Baldwin’s back at all times. When there was trouble, he handled it. Why this escaped Baldwin’s brain now irked him. “Fuck you too, Lear.”

“Whatever.” Lear checked his watch. He hoped he’d be able to get the airport early, so they could take off ahead of schedule. He reasoned it wouldn’t matter too much if he was late since he was using Baldwin’s private jet. “Are you done losing your mind? Because I have a job to do so back off and let me do it.”

He pulled the phone away from his ear while his brother yelled and ranted. He rolled his eyes as he waited for his brother’s caterwauling to end.

“Feel better?” Lear asked.

“For now, assuming you do your damn job,” Baldwin said. “How are you going to fix this?”

“Do you really want to know, or do you want to see the result?”

“Of course I want to know,” Baldwin snapped. “That’s why I’m talking to you.”

A smart politician would have said no, preferring to keep his hands clean, but not Baldwin. He was too controlling for his own good. In forty-two years, Baldwin had not changed one bit. He was still as high-handed as ever despite the everyman persona he showed to the public. His arrogant and dictatorial manner was legendary among his staffers and the servants that kept his house in tip top shape.

Lear knew Baldwin thought of him as just another lackey to do his bidding and not a partner in his bid for the White House. If there weren’t bigger things at stake, he would have dropped Baldwin a long time ago, leaving the asshole and his lofty political ambitions far behind.

“I’m going to use Dalcourt,” Lear said.

“What about him?” Baldwin asked.

“He’ll get that reporter and anyone else she’s alerted off of your back,” Lear said. “They’ll be too busy tearing apart his life to even think about you or your...friend.”

“Dalcourt is your big solution? I knew I should have went with Smith.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Lear asked.

“It means it’s a stupid idea. He’s not going to roll over and play dead for you,” Baldwin said.

“Yes he will,” Lear said. My talent is wasted working for him. “Why?”

“Because he will. God, man you are infuriating. Father always said you had the brain of an ox.”

“I won’t say what he said about you. Mostly because it will piss you off too much and I still need your help.”

Lear sighed. “My God you are a pain in the ass.”

“Are you just going to give that reporter Dalcourt’s name and address and hope for the best?” His tone walked the line between bitterness and incredulity.

“No. A little birdie is going to tell her that I’m leaving town and that it has something to do with this affair thing. Naturally she’ll follow me, I’ll get her to meet me and then I’ll dangle our little brother in her face. The story will be so juicy she’ll have to bite.”

“Why don’t you do that here?” Baldwin asked. “Dalcourt doesn’t live here. He lives in some dinky town in Wyoming called Wildsage. And I’m luring her to Wyoming to make sure she does her job and latches on to him, there. I can’t risk her getting distracted by you and your antics.”

“What if she refuses to bite and decides to return here?” Baldwin asked. The uncharacteristic fear in his voice was unnerving.

“She won’t. If you knew what I know about Dalcourt, you’d be drooling over this too,” Lear said.

“Finding dirt on Dalcourt is damn near impossible. He’s too shadowy,” Baldwin said. “You have got to tell me what you have on him.”

“I can’t. I’ve already said too much. The less you know about this the better it is for you and me.”

Baldwin laughed even louder. “You think that little pipsqueak scares me?”

“I didn’t say that. It’s my job to make sure your name stays out of these things and that’s what I’m doing.”

“Okay, okay.” Baldwin fell silent. “Once he finds out you that you’ve fucked him, he’s g oing to be pissed.”

“He won’t find out unless you tell him,” Lear said.

“I’m not going to tell him. But he will find out nevertheless. Doing that sort of thing was his job remember?”

“Okay so what if he does,” Lear said.

“You just need to be prepared.”

“I am because I know how to get him where he hurts,” Lear said.

“What if he manages to get that reporter off his trail?”

“He’ll have no choice but to do what I say if he knows what’s best for him,” Lear said.

“You’re a killer Lear, you know that don’t you.”

“That’s why you have me on your team,” Lear replied.

“Dal court’s our brother, why would you even think about doing that to him?” Baldwin asked.

We all have to make sacrifices for the family and it’s time he made his. “Don’t worry about it. I have to go or else I’ll miss my flight. I’ll talk to you later.”

Lear ended the call and glanced at his luggage beside the front door. He checked his watch. He had just enough time to get to the airport, to check in and head to the bar for a drink. He needed a few drinks before he dealt with his younger brother.

Buy Link- http://www.bookstrand.com/book/bound-to-them

My Blog: Hot, Sexy and Shared- Erotic Romances by Peyton Brittany Clarke- http://peytonbrittanyclarkewrites.blogspot.com

Social Media

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/peytonbclarke

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My Not-So-Guilty Pleasures #MFRWAuthor

We all have guilty pleasures, although I’m not sure guilty is the correct word. The things that I really feel guilty about are not things that give me pleasure. Things like buying clothes that I rarely wear, or books that I never read do make me feel guilt, but the pleasure component isn’t there.

I tend to think of guilty pleasures as things other people look at askance or tease me about, but that I’m going to continue to do anyway.

In no particular order, here are my top seven guilty pleasures:

Gorgeous men I can discover gorgeous men in many places, such as  TV, movies, and WWE. The men for whom I obsess tend to have traits in common--long hair, facial hair, and often they're unusually tall. Consider Jason Momoa, Roman Reigns, and Steven Strait. Interestingly, if you line these guys up side by side, they'd pretty much look like brothers. Of course, my longstanding love was--is--Prince. He was the exception to the rule, "unusually tall". Then again, he was the exception to all the rules.

Weird TV I am teased quite a bit about watching WWE. I also can’t seem to pass up miscellaneous documentaries, programs explaining conspiracy theories, ghosts, hauntings, aliens, and ancient civilizations.

Journals If I never bought another journal and wrote pages and pages every day, I would still never run out. My family refuses to add to the collection at gift giving time, so I'm forced to buy any new ones I want.

Re-reading my old favorite books. There are books by favorite authors that I have practically memorized and I still read them over and over again. This wouldn’t be too bad if I added new books to the list. That's one of my goals for 2017.

McDonald’s cones.  I'm allergic to dairy products but McDonald’s cones are purely chemical.  I can eat this frozen treats with no problems at all.

Hats I can’t seem to pass them up even though I rarely wear them. I have a huge collection of fedoras in various colors, patterns, and materials. I’m also attracted to steam punk hats because of all the accessories hanging from them. I’ve yet to find one with goggles that's small enough to fit my head. Usually they slide over my ears and cover half my face. At the last ComicCon I attended, I found a woman who has agreed to make one for me.

Expensive magazines love magazines like Bella Grace, Daphne’s Diary, Breathe, and all the Somerset lines. These do have a degree of guilt because many of the craft magazines are expensive  and I never get around to doing the craft.

As far as the guilty pleasures go, mine are pretty mundane. I’m sure yours are much more interesting. Why dont you tell me about them?

Dress Up, Dress Down with Kryssie Fortune

Please join me in welcoming author Kryssie Fortune to the LAM Blog! Great to have you here, Kryssie. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you, Trevann, for letting me drop by to talk about my book Sex, Scandal, and the Sheriff.

My hero is a former Seal who turned sheriff when he was invalided out of the SEALS due to a leg wound that cost him his speed in the water. He wore his SEALS’ badge with pride.

Everyone knows Navy SEALS are special. It’s no surprise their badge is too. The badge’s formal title is Special Warfare Insignia, but mostly it’s known as a SEALS Trident, or even better a Budweiser. Apparently, the eagle looks a lot like the eagle on the famous beer bottle so the name isn’t a hint on SEALS celebrating finishing the 24-week Basic Underwater Demolition / Seal’s training—usually referred to as BUDS.

The Special Warfare insignia consists of a golden eagle clutching a U.S. Navy anchor, trident, and flintlock style pistol.

The photograph below shows SEAL Lt. Michael P. Murphy, from Patchogue, N.Y., and Sonar Technician (Surface) 2nd Class Matthew G. Axelson, of Cupertino, Calif., taken in Afghanistan. Since the photograph was released by the US Navy, I have no qualms about using it. To me, both men are heroes. As you can see they are wearing combat gear.

By U.S Navy Photographer, U.S Navy [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Tagline

Starting over in Westhorpe Ridge wouldn’t be easy, especially since she’d already enjoyed a spanking and a one-night stand with the sheriff.

 

Blurb

Jasmine Stewart (Jazz to her friends) falls for the blond stranger when he spanks and seduces her at a Washington soiree. Later, when she discovers her flatmate is trying to draw her into a spy ring, she goes to the authorities. The ensuing publicity costs her her job, her security, and her future. Starting over in Westhorpe Ridge is her only option.

Sean Mathews, former SEAL and Westhorpe Ridge’s sheriff, can’t forget the woman he spanked when he visited Washington, but he thinks she’s a spy. When she turns up in Westhorpe Ridge, he tries everything to make her leave town. Despite their misunderstandings, though, they can’t keep their hands off each other.

As Year’s Eve looms, the spy ring resurfaces. Jazz will need all of Sean’s SEAL prowess to survive. But because his wounded leg cost him his speed in the water, will it be enough?

  • Note: A stand-alone romance this is the second story in The Heroes of Westhorpe Ridge series, featuring Sean Matthews from Marriage, Mobsters and the Marinesand Jasmine Stewart (Jazz to her friends). 

Buy links

Loose id           http://www.loose-id.com/sex-scandal-and-the-sheriff.html

Amazon.com   http://amzn.to/2iOBqn1

Amazon.co.     http://amzn.to/2inBoBE

Kobo               http://bit.ly/2igip8T

Nook               http://bit.ly/2iGigfP

Kryssie Fortune’s social medial links – I’d love to hear from you.

Facebook      -  https://www.facebook.com/KryssiesFortune

Twitter         -  https://twitter.com/KryssieFortune,

Blog             -  http://kryssiefortune.blogspot.co.uk/

Website       -  http://kryssiefortune.wixsite.com/kryssie

Excerpt

“New start. New life. New ambitions,” she told herself as she drove away from her dream of being a teacher.

By the time the winter sun crept over the horizon, she’d passed the halfway point between Washington and Westhorpe Ridge. She made good time, but fifteen minutes from her destination, the car handling changed. Praying nothing expensive had happened to her trusty vehicle, she pulled over to take a look. She got out the car, walked around to the rear passenger side, and sighed when she realized the tire had blown out. Damn, my spare’s in the trunk, beneath my suitcases and bedding. Shaking her head, she heaved her first suitcase onto the grass verge. It hadn’t felt so heavy when she’d packed it.

A police car pulled up. “Sheriff Mathews, ma’am. Can I be of assistance?”

His voice flowed over her like molasses, rich, thick, and so sweet she wanted to taste its owner. Instead, she panted slightly but kept moving. “I’ve had a blowout, but my spare tire’s under all my stuff. Don’t worry. I can manage, thank you.”

When she turned back to the car, Jazz’s eyes widened. The man in the uniform looked enormous, blond, and way too familiar. Handsome didn’t come close. In his long-sleeved fawn shirt and standard-issue brown trousers, he looked like a sex god come to earth. And are those handcuffs dangling from his belt? I can find a way to put them to good use.

Given their history, drooling over him felt wrong. Despite what the doctors had told her, traces of the spies’ lust drug must still linger in her system. Her heart beat faster and her pussy grew damp. Even breathing seemed hard around him. “Ethan Mathews? I thought you were a scientist involved in some hush-hush stuff, not a sheriff. Why are you in Westhorpe Ridge? I thought you were some high-flying scientist. And isn’t impersonating a police officer a criminal offense? Shit, you’re driving a real police car. Are you really a sheriff?”

He did a double take, glowered right back at her. “Jazz Stewart? What the hell are you doing here? Have you jumped bail? Keep your hands where I can see them while I radio in and run a check on you.”

Jazz shivered despite the winter sunshine. Everyone except the CIA had made her out to be the bad guy, her former employer included. The damn sheriff was treating her like a criminal, but he’d been at that damn party too. Judging by the way he’d climbing on his high horse, he probably believed everything he’d read about her in the papers. Out of everyone she knew, she’d wanted the man she’d been dreaming about since the soiree to be on her side. He’s even sexier than I remembered, but what’s with this running a check on me? Surely he knows the truth by now. She hated the way he smirked at her, but she couldn’t resist taunting him. “So, Sheriff, spanked any other females lately?”

Dress Up, Dress Down with Patricia Preston!

Please join me in welcoming author (and fellow Supernatural fan) Patricia Preston to the LAM blog! *****************

In Everything His Heart Desires, Brett “Hot Rod” Harris is a cardiologist, but he’s also a guy who was raised on the wrong side of town by his uncle who took him in when he was a little boy. He grew up working in his uncle’s car garage and he has a passion for muscle cars, which he collects. He’s considered the “James Dean” of the medical staff because he often wears a brown leather bomber jacket instead of a white coat. When he’s not in scrubs, he prefers tee shirts and jeans along with his jacket, all of which go perfectly with his fast cars from the Sixties and his attitude.

The heroine, Natalie, who has known Brett since high school, sums up his appearance in an excerpt from the book:

She had left the summer of her graduation from Lafayette High School fifteen years ago and never returned. Not until now. She had never expected to have another cup of coffee in the Country Corner Café.

And she’d certainly never expected to see Brett Harris again.

She shook her head, amused as she thought of him, checking her out in the elevator and going for it. He still oozed with confidence and cockiness. The genius from the wrong side of town who didn’t let anything intimidate him.

Nobody could sport a leather bomber jacket and jeans as well as Brett.

She had to admit he was actually better looking now than he had been in high school. More mature. Laugh lines enhanced his hazel eyes, which were a blend of deep green and light gold. His coffee-brown hair was thick and unruly, which she’d always liked, and he was in need of a shave. He wore masculinity well.

EVERYTHING HIS HEART DESIRES

The man most likely to drive her crazy…

Growing up in Lafayette Falls, senator’s daughter Natalie Layton hid her sorrows behind a bright smile that charmed everyone in high school—except Brett Harris. Hardworking and highly motivated, Brett disissed Natalie as a slacker. Instead, she’s become an acclaimed photographer. And when Brett, now a successful cardiologist, needs her family’s help to secure a coveted position, Natalie’s more than happy to prescribe a little payback…

Hailing from the wrong side of the tracks, Brett believed he could never win the school’s popular princess. Now he’s intrigued by the complex and compassionate woman Natalie’s become. Gaining her grandmother’s goodwill is the key to becoming chief cardiologist—and Natalie has no intention of making it easy. But as mutual mistrust gives way to pure chemistry, there’s more at stake than either ever expected—and much more to learn about matters of the heart…

Buy Links: Amazon Nook  Kobo Google Play iTunes

 

 

 

 

 

Patricia Preston loves writing mainstream romantic fiction where love matters most as well as short stories and historicals. She has won the William Faulkner Award for Short Fiction, the Lone Star Writing Competition for Historical Romance, and Harlequin's World's Best Romances Short Story Competition. The small Southern town where she resides and her work in local medical clinics and hospitals both provided inspiration for her “Love Heals All” series. Besides writing, she enjoys photography, cooking, movies, bargain hunting, driving the Natchez Trace and visiting historical sites.

For info on new releases and contests, sign up for her newsletter

Visit her Blog. Follow her Twitter and Amazon

From the Author:

Thanks for joining us today. I write mainstream romantic fiction as well as funny short stories. Must haves in my writing cave include sweet tea, epic music and plenty of notebooks. Besides writing, I love music, history, the French Quarter, photography, reading and anything containing chocolate. I’m a fangirl of Supernatural and Walking Dead. I don’t do much with my life other than write.

If you like single title romances that are filled with family, friends, drama and fun, check out my Love Heals All series, set in the picturesque town of Lafayette Falls, south of Nashville. Or if you like historicals filled with adventure and passion, you might enjoy “To Save a Lady,” set in the sultry French Quarter in 1814 featuring a dashing captain and an elusive French spy.

You can follow me and check out my titles at my Amazon author page

or visit my website at www.patricia-preston.com and stop by my blog. Be sure to sign up for my newsletter! Thanks!

Dress Up, Dress Down with L.M. Brown: Falling into Darkness #MFRWAuthor

Falling into Darkness is a story that takes place over a lengthy period of time. And when I say lengthy I mean epic. The story begins shortly before Lucifer falls from Heaven and sets himself up against God, continues right up to the present day, and then on into the future. You’d think that would be a lot of costume changes for my guys, wouldn’t you? I’m afraid that isn’t the case. Much of this story is set in the realm of angels or in the Underworld, where clothing doesn’t move with the times. Michael and the other archangels like their comfortable robes too much to give them up. They are creatures of habit and quite set in their ways. The classic angel attire is what they wear most of the time.

In the Underworld, the domain of Lucifer and the demons, things are a little hotter and the robes have been discarded in favour of tunics, which are cooler to wear, but still very old-fashioned.

What both the angels and demons need to remember, is to change into modern clothing when they walk the Earth.  At some points in the story, this turned out to be a handy way to show the passage of time. The modern era, as we know it, was entered the moment Lucifer decided to torture Michael by dragging him round clothes shops. Since angels (and Lucifer) can change their clothes with  falling-into-darkness-500-x-800nothing more than a thought, it was an entirely unnecessary venture, but it did help highlight the time period for the reader.

So there you have it, my angels are mostly dressed in typical robes of a bygone era, but with the power of a thought, they can blend into any culture by donning the appropriate garments. A handy power to have, I’m sure you’d agree.

Falling into Darkness by L.M. Brown

A Male/Male Romance

Blurb

Their love could save the soul of a fallen angel or damn an archangel to an eternity in Hell.

The realm of angels was created as a paradise where angels could watch over the earth as mankind took his first steps. For the archangel Michael, it is the only home he has ever known and he could never envisage another life. Michael’s life changes the day his path crosses that of the favoured son of the morning. From the moment he sees him, Michael wants Lucifer for his own. When the two angels come together the passion surprises them both.

Their love is forged in Heaven, but is doomed the moment Lucifer falls from grace to become the leader of an army of demons.

Separated by war, the former lovers know the time will come when they must face each other in battle.

Their confrontation will set in motion events that neither could have foreseen. For Lucifer it is the chance to persuade Michael to stand at his side, as his partner as leader of the demons. For Michael, it is a mission to save his lover’s soul, while risking his own.

Torn between his love for Lucifer and his duties as an angel, Michael walks a fine line, where one wrong step could result in his own fall from Heaven, and an eternity in Hell.

Excerpt

Across the table from him, Gabriel’s jaw dropped in apparent surprise as he stared at something over Michael’s shoulder.

Next to him, Raphael twisted in his seat and his expression morphed into one of shock too.

Michael wondered what might be happening behind him, yet he couldn’t move a muscle to see for himself. His spine tingled and he had the strangest sensation someone was staring straight at him.

“What is it?” he whispered, and in the silence of the room even his quiet question seemed obnoxiously loud.

“The son of the morning,” Gabriel murmured as he set Michael’s plate back in front of him with a shaky hand. “Lucifer.”

Michael must have misheard. Lucifer never came into the communal areas of Heaven. He, along with the other favorites, remained solitary, rarely associating with the rest of the angels, and never in a crowded setting such as this.

Slowly, barely able to draw breath, Michael faced the entrance.

Lucifer stood in the archway, the morning sun behind him. There could be no mistaking his silhouette for that of another.

In the brightness of the light, Michael couldn’t tell what Lucifer searched for, at least not for sure. Only his instincts told him Lucifer had eyes for him, and him alone.

Slowly, Lucifer strolled into the room. Every angel in his path stepped aside to let him pass. Some bowed their heads respectfully, but he didn’t acknowledge their deference in any way.

Finally he arrived at Michael’s table and came to a halt.

“Good morning,” Lucifer said.

“I…” Michael mumbled, once again silently cursing his ineptitude.

“I see you still have trouble forming sentences,” Lucifer commented. “Let us hope you can manage more than a single word by this evening.”

“Er…”

Raphael gathered his wits together first and rose to make a sweeping bow. “Great angel, welcome to our table. Won’t you join us and partake of the fruits?”

Lucifer spared the archangel a momentary glance. “I have already eaten this morning.”

Raphael didn’t seem to know what to say, so he sat back down with a bump.

Lucifer returned his attention to Michael. “This evening, at sunset.”

“Where?” Michael asked, his voice croaking embarrassingly.

“Rumor has it your beach is quite pleasant.”

Michael nodded, not trusting his voice enough to try speaking again.

“Tonight then, Michael,” Lucifer said, before sweeping away in a flurry of robes, everyone once again stepping aside to make way for him.

“The son of the morning knows your name?” Gabriel asked as soon as Lucifer had gone. “Is he the one you’ve been meeting each dawn?”

Michael ducked his head. “I wouldn’t say I was meeting him, exactly.”

“But you have been with him in the mornings?” Raphael pressed. “You kept that quiet.”

There would be no escaping the interrogation and Michael accepted he had to come clean.

“I couldn’t sleep one night and ended up walking through the lands to the north of here. I chanced upon Lucifer coming to the pool of jewels one dawn. It seems he visits there most mornings.”

“And you’ve been at the pool with him,” Gabriel concluded.

“I wouldn’t say with him,” Michael mumbled. “I just happen to be in the area at the same time.”

“Just happen?” Raphael chuckled and leaned in to whisper. “I heard a rumor that when Lucifer is diving for jewels he disrobes completely.”

Michael’s face heated again.

Gabriel roared with laughter. “You’ve been spying on Lucifer?”

“I wouldn’t call it spying,” Michael replied.

“But everyone else would,” Raphael teased. “Oh, Michael, what would we do without you to keep us entertained?”

Raphael and Gabriel laughed and teased him for a little while longer, until Gabriel asked the question that had been bothering Michael ever since Lucifer’s appearance.

“If all you’ve been doing is ogling him, how did Lucifer know your name?”

Michael shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I projected it telepathically without realizing.”

“Or maybe he’s been watching you too?” Raphael suggested.

Buy Links

Pride Publishing - https://www.pride-publishing.com/book/falling-into-darkness

Falling into Darkness will also be available at Amazon, All Romance Ebooks and other online stores from 13th December 2016.

falling-into-darkness-email

Bio

L.M. Brown is an English writer of gay romances. She believes that there is nothing hotter or sweeter than two men in love with each other… unless it is three.

When L.M. Brown isn’t bribing her fur babies for control of the laptop, she can usually be found with her nose in a book.

Links

Where to find L.M. Brown

Website & Blog – http://lmbrownauthor.wordpress.com/

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/L.M.Brown.author

Twitter - @LMBrownAuthor

A #Holiday #Recipe With Author Anita Philmar

Please join me in welcoming Romantic Suspense author Anita Philmar as she shares a favorite holiday recipe with us! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Warrior in Me – Erotic Murder Mystery/ Romantic suspense

Blurb:perf5.000x8.000.indd

Special Security Agent Sebastian Berlin is eager to track down his partner's killer. Instead, he’s assigned the job of baby-sitting a scientist. His boss thinks she's the key to an Ancient Warrior Prophecy. Science never interested Sebastian, but the know-it-all female standing at the end of his Alaskan dock could persuade him to do a little experimenting. That is, if he can keep his Neanderthal Warrior genes from taking control.

DNA specialist Lily Sinclair is in need of a vacation, or so her over-protective ex-husband tells her. Arriving in chilly Alaska instead of sunny Cancun, she's tired and cranky and so not in the mood for her bodyguard's he-man tactics. Still, there's something about the sexy eye-candy that makes her want to lick him all over even as she's demanding to go home.

Then Lily's ex is poisoned, and Sebastian is certain the two murders are connected and she could be next. She knows he's hiding something, but with the worldwide release of Neanderthal DNA project only days away, she has no choice but to trust him to protect her. But can she trust him with her heart?


Excerpt : First Kiss

Seconds before his mouth covered hers, she whispered, “Sebastian, I don’t—” The rest of the sentence died under the quick spear of his tongue, seeking entrance into the hot moist haven of her mouth.

The fight he expected didn’t fully materialize. She gasped in shock, and her body stiffened. Then she lifted her hands to his shoulders, leaving the few inches between them vacant.

Tightening his grip, he drew the soft cushion of her breasts invitingly against his chest. All too quickly, he moved past the point of a simple kiss and fed on her unique flavor. He’d gone too long without the seductive touch of a woman. Today, she’d tempted him with the fire of her anger and the gentle concern for him at the loss of his friend. Holding himself in check, he’d resisted until she’d revealed her passion for her research. Now, he couldn’t contain his enthusiasm for her any longer. He ate at her lips, nipping and sucking until they opened wider.

Lily moaned, and he captured the sound, swallowing it as he flicked his tongue against the roof of her mouth. She welcomed him by drawing him deeper. He thrust in and out, over and over mimicking the ancient rhythm of sex.

Determined to sample every inch of the hot, moist cavity, he drank in the rich, sweet nectar. As stimulating as wine, he became drunk on her and tangled his tongue around hers. Time lost meaning. He forgot everything except her hands in his hair, her body plastered against his, the relentless need to consume her.

Somewhere in his subconscious, something reminded him that women didn’t progress from “Hello, it nice to meet you” to “Do you want to go to bed with me” this quickly. On the other hand, maybe, the light tingling of his scalp as she curled her fingers in his hair helped jog his memory. He had to take things a little slower if he wanted to win the girl.

Now available at

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01M9C5QLQ

http://wildcatalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-erotic/4749-the-warrior-in-me.html

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-warrior-in-me-anita-philmar/1124858213?ean=2940156758746

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/the-warrior-in-me-1

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thewarriorinme-2158657-153.html

Bio Anita Philmar

Anita Philmar likes to create stories that push the limit. A writer by day and a dreamer by night she wants her readers to see the world in a new way.

Influenced by old movies, she likes to develop places where anything can happen and where special moments come to life in a great read.

Naughty or Nice?

Read her books and decide.

Website: http://www.anitaphilmr.com/

Email: anitaphilmar@yahoo.com

Blog: http://www.anitaphilmar.blogspot.com/

FB: www.facebook.com/anita.philmar

GR: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1329767.Anita_Philmar

Twitter: https://twitter.com/anitaphilmar

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Anita-Philmar/e/B002BMBE8C

Chocolate, Peanut Butter, Oatmeal no bake cookies.

1 stick of butter

1/2 cup brown sugar

1/2 peanut butter

2 oz of chocolate unsweetened chocolate

1 teaspoon vanilla

3 cups oatmeal old fashion

Melt butter and add brown sugar, stir and microwave 30 seconds. Break up unsweetened chocolate and stir into butter and sugar mixture. Microwave 15 seconds at a time until chocolate is melted.

Add peanut butter and vanilla - stir until smooth

Add oatmeal.

Stir until oatmeal is coated.

Then cover cookie sheet with parchment paper, drop spoonful onto parchment paper.

Place pan of cookies in freezer and allow to cool for 10 to 15 minutes.

Eat when ready.

Other alternatives reduce oatmeal 1/2 cup before add one of the alternatives

1/2 cup nuts

1/2 cup coconut

A #Holiday #Recipe With Author Kris Bock

It's my pleasure to welcome romantic suspense author @Kris_Bock sharing a holiday recipe with us! ~~~~~~~

Crock Pot Cheese Fondue Dip This is a wonderful treat for a holiday party!1 (10.75 oz) can cheddar cheese soupimg_1297 2 cups grated cheddar cheese 1 cup milk 1/4 cup or more green chiles (these can often be found canned in the Mexican section of the grocery store) 1 Tbsp. Worcestershire sauce 1 Tbsp. chives 1 Tbsp. garlic Serve with corn chips, celery sticks, cauliflower, etc. 1. Combine all ingredients in a fondue pot or small crock pot. 2. Heat on medium, stirring frequently, until smooth and well blended. 3. Adjust heat to warm and serve in the pot, with chips or veggies on the side. If it starts to get too thick, stir in a little more milk.

See “the dead man’s treasure bonus material” in the left-hand column of Kris Bock’s website for more New Mexico recipes.

Photo credit: New Mexico green chile, by Littlemisslibrarian, Creative Commons License The Mad Monk’s Treasure The lost Victorio Peak treasure is the stuff of legends—a heretic Spanish priest’s gold mine, made richer by the spoils of bandits and an Apache raider. When Erin, a quiet history professor, uncovers a clue that may pinpoint the lost treasure cave, she prepares for adventure. But when a hit and run driver nearly kills her, she realizes she’s not the only one after the treasure. And is Drew, the handsome helicopter pilot who found her bleeding in a ditch, really a hero, or one of the enemy?

Erin isn’t sure she can trust Drew with her heart, but she’ll need his help to track down the treasure. She heads into the New Mexico wilderness with her brainy best friend Camie and a feisty orange cat. The wilderness holds its own dangers, from wild animals to sudden storms. Plus, the sinister men hunting Erin are determined to follow her all the way to the treasure, no matter where the twisted trail leads. Erin won’t give up an important historical find without a fight, but is she ready to risk her life—and her heart?

“The story has it all - action, romance, danger, intrigue, lost treasure, not to mention a sizzling relationship....”

“Great balance of history, romance, and adventure. Smart romance with an “Indiana Jones” feel.”

Well-written with an attention to detail that allowed me to picture exactly in my head how a scene looked and played out.” Excerpt:

Among all the legends, all the fact and fiction, one story stood out. The Victorio Peak legend had it all. A Franciscan priest and a swindler. Torture, murder, a government cover-up. Where was the truth, among all the stories? Erin wanted to find out. Over time, and with Camie’s encouragement, she’d started to take the treasure hunt more seriously. It wasn’t so much for the treasure itself—that would most likely belong to the government or the landowners. But it would make her reputation, open up new job opportunities—change her life in ways she hardly dared dream.

She touched the book gently. The pages were falling out; she didn’t want to risk carrying it around. Instead, Erin snapped a picture of the petroglyphs with her phone. That would be enough to show Camie for now.

The timing was perfect; she just had to turn in grades and field a few tearful last-minute requests for extensions, and she’d be done for the semester. What better way to spend the summer, than hunting for buried treasure?

Erin shook her head. Who would’ve thought that she, the quiet, studious girl who’d spent her entire adult life in academia in one way or another, would be planning such an adventure?

Erin wheeled the bike around the front of her house and mounted. At the corner, she paused and looked both ways. The long frontage road was dangerously narrow, with a cement wall on one side and a ditch on the other. Fortunately, traffic was normally light, and at this time of day the road lay empty. Erin pushed off, still grinning from her find. She rode on the right side, by the ditch, instead of facing traffic, because it was just too frightening to ride alongside the wall when a car passed.

She’d gone a block when she heard the hum of a car engine as it pulled out from a side street behind her. She rode along the very edge of the pavement, even though the car would have plenty of room to pass her without oncoming traffic.

Erin glanced over her shoulder. The black SUV 20 feet behind her hadn’t bothered to pull out into the road at all. Jerk. When would drivers learn to share the road with bicyclists? Erin pulled onto the two-foot wide gravel strip between the pavement and the ditch. She couldn’t stop without risking a skid, but she slowed so the SUV could pass.

The engine roared. Erin glanced back again.

Black metal bore down on her. Her heart lurched and the bike wobbled. This guy was crazy! She whipped her gaze forward, rose up in the seat, and pumped the pedals with all her power, skimming along inches from the ditch. He was just trying to scare her. She’d get his license plate and—

She felt the bumper hit her back tire. The bike seemed to leap into the air, and she went flying. The dried mud and weeds of the ditch seemed to rise up to meet her.

She didn’t even have time to scream.

img_1295 Kris Bock writes novels of suspense and romance with outdoor adventures and Southwestern landscapes. The Mad Monk’s Treasure follows the hunt for a long-lost treasure in the New Mexico desert. In The Dead Man’s Treasure, estranged relatives compete to reach a buried treasure by following a series of complex clues. In The Skeleton Canyon Treasure, sparks fly when reader favorites Camie and Tiger help a mysterious man track down his missing uncle. Whispers in the Dark features archaeology and intrigue among ancient Southwest ruins. What We Found is a mystery with strong romantic elements about a young woman who finds a murder victim in the woods. In Counterfeits, stolen Rembrandt paintings bring danger to a small New Mexico town.

Read excerpts at www.krisbock.com or visit her Amazon page. Sign up for Kris Bock newsletter for announcements of new books, sales, and more.

Get The Mad Monk’s Treasure for FREE!

Instafreebie is quick and convenient for people to grab their favorite file type, and you can even set it up so it knows your preference. Feel free to grab a copy! Honest reviews are always appreciated.

Dress Up, Dress Down with Marie Dry

Happy Friday! Let's welcome Marie Dry to the LAM Blog today, talking about her book, ALIEN BETRAYED. ********************************

NAKED ALIENS AND CLOTHES DOING DOUBLE DUTY

I thought it was really amusing, doing a blog about my characters clothes. Why? Because mostly I forget to put clothes on them. I literally have to go in afterwards and make sure they’re not running around naked. In the process I learned a lot about the function clothes serves in a story.

The first editor at Black Opal Books who worked on Alien Mine thought the Aliens in the Zyrgin Warriors series walked around naked. I was shocked that she could miss the wonderful description of their uniforms, loaded with weapons that became the size of pennies when placed in their pockets. Then I went searching for the specific paragraph where I described it. It wasn’t there! I had to go in and put clothes on them. I was mortified, this was my first book to be published and I did something so careless. The worst part was that I could see their clothes so clearly and knew the function they served and it only happened in my mind. And I managed to forget to put it down on the manuscript.  I knew from the beginning that their clothes were made of some really strong material with some amazing properties, allowing them to simply step out of their shoes without using laces and their uniforms were developed to withstand most weapons. I wanted their clothes to juxtapose their primitive joy in battling with swords. To illustrate that this was a culture with advanced technology even though they come across as rather primitive in their ideas.

After that I went and checked a contemporary I’ve been fiddling with and yip, no clothes. Once again the heroine’s clothes were clear in my mind, but not on the page. She’s a rather frumpy dresser and much more interested in developing her mind than her fashion sense. To make matters worse, her way of looking at herself and what she wear through the book, illustrate her acceptance of herself as a beautiful woman by the end of the book. Or it would have if I’d just taken the time to really describe her clothes. Since I made the changes and ensured that the clothes mirrored her development the story has improved.

What I learned from this was that clothes can illustrate aspects of the character, they can show the technological stage of development of a civilization or poverty or riches, it can illustrate the characters jobs or lack of jobs. In other words, clothes has their own job to do in a story. They can also do absolutely nothing if the author, namely me, don’t use it as a tool.

Mary Buckham wrote an excellent craft book. Active Settings by Mary Buckham. I cannot recommend this enough. She has examples that illustrate what I tried to say above. Here is a link to amazon to her book. A Writer's Guide to Active Setting

Thank you for inviting me to write for your blog. I’m off to make sure my Gargoyle is wearing clothes and not running around Cape Town naked.

More about Marie

All her life Marie Dry has read romances and was fairly young when she decided she would travel the world and write the perfect story that had all the elements she looked for in a romance. In 2007 after living in Morocco for four years and back in South Africa, she shared a pizza with a friend and promised to go all out with her writing and to work at getting published. In 2014 her first book was published by Black Opal Books. Two more books has since been published and a fourth contracted.

There are several wonderful moments in her life that she would never trade for anything. One of them is meeting President Nelson Mandela and the second being published.

www.mariedry.com

Marie's Amazon Page

Find Marie on Goodreads

BOOK BLURB

MD picALIEN BETRAYED

In a bleak and apocalyptic future, where the Zyrgin Warriors are getting ready to conquer Earth, Marcie is sent to infiltrate the alien stronghold in the Rocky Mountains, only to be betrayed by her own people. Instead of stealing the alien’s technology and accomplishing her mission of causing mayhem and destruction among them, she is captured by Larz, an arrogant alien, who wreaks havoc with her heart when he insists that she will be his woman. Still, he may no longer want her when he discovers her secrets…ones she doesn’t even know she has.

EXCEPT: CHAPTER 1

Larz clasped the training sword with both hands and swung it in a wide arc around his head, conquering his favourite patch of the Rocky Mountains.This was the closest a Zyrgin warrior came to the human emotion of joy. The sword fit his hand like an extra limb. His body moving with strength and fluidity gifted to him by generations of the strongest blood on Zyrgin. Still swinging, he moved the sword to his left and then his right hand, increasing his speed until his movements became a blur.

Every day after his warrior duties, he came to this rocky patch on the mountain.Practiced to ensure he was worthy and ready for the day the leader of all Zyrgin territories would give him his sword of honor. That was the moment all warriors lived for. When their leader, who they called The Zyrgin, gifted them with a sword that would respond to the touch of a certain warrior only. Warriors from a strong bloodline, and some warriors born stronger,received swords that, with the aid of technology, could be made to shrink to nearly invisible size. To the enemy, it looked as if they disappeared and appeared as if by magic.

Many warriors used their cloaking technology to make it seem as if they had received such a sword from The Zyrgin. Larz knew he’d never have to resort to such measures. He was from The Zyrgin’s bloodline, descended from the strongest Zyrgin that ever ruled.

Larz lunged sideways then stepped back, performing the sequence of the warrior conquering with his sword with ease. Instinctively compensating for the uneven boulder strewn patch he stood on. Though his movements were swift and smooth, as a warrior’s should be, today he performed without his usual fierce concentration.

Worry for his human occupied his mind. Months ago, shortly before his second change, he claimed Marcie as his breeder after they rescued her from a raider camp. Everyone else called her a loud, mean woman with ugly red hair. Not a day went by without one of the warriors offering to kill her or bring him a better human. When he looked at her, he saw his breeder. A woman he’d never give up.

If he claimed her after he went through his third change, it might mean he had to give up his need to do battle in their wars, to serve on the Zyrgin homeland. The friend of Natalie and Julia, Sarah had disappeared more than a year ago and it had taken many months to find her in a raider camp. She had been starved and bruised and told them Marcie was responsible for many of the things that happened to her in that camp. They may have rescued Marcie from a raider camp, but they were certain she was sent to infiltrate them. Her attitude made her very unpopular. Shortly after they brought her to their guesthouse, she’d tried to hurt Sarah and Sarah had been moved to live with Natalie. Larz had to go through his third change soon, or he might not be able to claim her.

From the time the first Zyrgin ruled, millions of centuries ago, Zyrgin warriors were not allowed to claim a breeder before their third change. It was a strange knowing each warrior carried within. Larz turned and decapitated an imaginary enemy behind him. His third change was months away, and he needed to claim Marcie before she got herself killed.

He stumbled and compensated for the uneven rock beneath his boots. Adding challenge to his workout, he closed his eyes. A warrior who owned a foul-mouthed human had to be prepared for anything.

This barren patch of the alien planet he was born on, this little piece of earth, always drew him. On the hard rock, where no trees grew and no reintroduced wildlife ventured, he was reminded of his home planet. Out here, with the exotic earth sun shining down on him, he could think about claiming a strangely compelling woman with a mean mouth and ugly red hair. Make plans for keeping her safe from the consequences of her actions.

Zorlof, his brother, ran up to him, his pre-second change body small, but stronger than that of a human male. Their doctor couldn’t explain why he took so much longer than Larz to go through his second change, but all indications were that he would be very strong once it did happen. Zyrgin warriors were born with the knowledge of battle, with strength in their small bodies. With each change their knowledge and strength grew. In Zorlof’s case, he suspected that strength and knowledge might be much stronger in him than the average warrior. Even taking into account their strong bloodline, Zorlof was taller and stronger than any pre-second change warrior born for centuries.

Zorlof easily leaped over a few boulders and increased his speed until he skidded to a halt in front of Larz.

“Marcie tried to kill Zanr to get to Sarah. She screamed she’d kill Sarah the whole time,” Zorlof said.

The mountain blurred around Larz and noise rang in his ears. Like their ship’s klaxon, instead of danger to the ship, it heralded danger to his human. Larz sank down on his knees and leaned his head on his sword. “That human will drive me to Solarian drink.”

If she had simply gone after Zanr, they would’ve laughed at the idea of a human woman trying to overcome a Zyrgin warrior. No warrior would give an attack from a human woman any serious attention, beyond ensuring she didn’t hurt herself. Threatening the Zyrgin’s breeder? Larz might not be able to save her.

His time was up. He had to choose between Marcie and being a warrior and probably his life. Give up everything that defined him to save that female who had no concept of honor. He didn’t understand her mean nature and why she hated Sarah this much? If she was sent to infiltrate them, wouldn’t it make more sense to befriend them?

Larz closed his eyes and prayed for patience. Would the woman never stop putting herself in danger? When he claimed her, he’d make sure she understood that such behavior would have severe consequences for her. Ever since they rescued Marcie from the raider camps six months ago, she’d angered every human and Zyrgin who came into contact with her.

 

 

Dress Up Dress Down with Rachel Leigh Smith

Please join me in welcoming Rachel Leigh Smith to the LAM blog! ~~~~~~

imageMy Name Is A’yen is set in the far distant future, after humanity has spread through the stars and encountered another species, the Lokmane. Out of fear, humanity enslaved them and so succeeded in wiping out the past that the Lokmane don’t believe there was ever a time they were free and had a home.

A’yen, the main character, also believes this. As a slave, and a male of his species, he can’t afford to dream like that. Humans are afraid of him due to his size and strength. Lokmane men always top six feet in height, and they’re telepathic. Though most of them aren’t able to use it.

He’s not a big fan of clothes. Neither are the other Lokmane males. Starting at the age of 18 and broken up into three sets, they’re covered with metallic ink tattoos to provide humans with an easy way of controlling them. Because of how their bodies process electromagnetic energy, the tattoos, called markings, are torture to endure. Both having it done, and living with it.

Unfortunately, going around half-naked is dangerous for a Lokmane male. A’yen prefers wearing cotton shorts and soft t-shirts when he has to get dressed. In his ideal world, he never has to wear a shirt. He’s not fond of shoes either, since one of the marking sets covers the tops of his feet.

His heroine, Fae Hart, is an archaeologist. She’s almost always in cargo pants, boots, and loose, breathable shirts. Since he’s helping her on her dig, and they’re on an unexplored planet, he’s wearing the same things. Much to his dismay.

A’yen has lived most of his life in pain, so his clothing choices are designed to lessen it as much as possible. It’s something I have personal experience with, unfortunately.

The excerpt I’ve chosen is one where he’s stripped down to go swimming. And he can’t help thinking about Fae. Though at this point in the story, he doesn’t really like her.

Bio: imageRachel Leigh Smith was swept off her feet at the age of six by Magnum, P.I., then again at nine by Frank Hardy. She remembers her favorite romance novels by the hero’s name, so of course she writes romance for the hero lover. She lives in central Louisiana with her family, a half-crazed calico, a ginger tabby lion, and a menagerie of book boyfriends.

www.rachelleighsmith.com www.facebook.com/rachelleighsmithauthor www.instagram.com/rlsauthor www.pinterest.com/rachelleighgeek www.goodreads.com/author/show/8425584.Rachel_Leigh_Smith

Blurb:

They've taken everything from him. Except his name.

The Loks Mé have been slaves for so long, freedom is a distant myth A'yen Mesu no longer believes. A year in holding, because of his master's murder, has sucked the life from him. Archaeologist Farran Hart buys him to protect her on an expedition to the Rim, the last unexplored quadrant of the galaxy.

Farran believes the Loks Mé once lived on the Rim and is determined to prove it. And win A'yen's trust. But she's a breeder's daughter and can't be trusted.

Hidden rooms, information caches, and messages from a long-dead king change A'yen's mind about her importance. When she's threatened, he offers himself in exchange, and lands on the Breeders Association's radar. The truth must be told. Even if it costs him his heart.

Excerpt:

He kicked back again, eyes closed, and Dr. Hart’s face filled his mind. For the first time, he didn’t shove it away. Instead, he ignored the fact she owned him. Still couldn’t bring himself to think of her as mistress. To him, the word was intimate, symbolic of a relationship they didn’t have. Without doubt she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. In a playful, impish sort of way. Her nickname fit.

What would it be like to kiss her? He didn’t shove that thought aside either. Full lips begged to be teased, tasted to their fullest. Her green eyes, almost too big for her face, captivated him. Whether he was ready to voice it or not. So deep, almost mysterious. Glossy black hair with just the right amount of wave. How would it feel on his skin?

A physical attraction like this wasn’t unusual for him, or the other Loks Mé men he’d talked to over the years. Fantasizing was safe. No one got hurt this way. It was acting on it that broke hearts and families.

Which meant he needed to stop it now before the urge to act on it became a need and ruined everything. He’d acted on his attraction to Tala without getting to know her first. Not a mistake he needed to repeat with someone he was likely stuck with for the rest of his life.

On the other hand, Mother was right. He had to let her in, show her he wasn’t a smart-ass all the time, that he could accept her authority. If he didn’t give a little and show her he could be obedient and respectful, she’d never give him even an inch of freedom. He’d spend the rest of the journey locked in their quarters, bored out of his skull. Not be allowed to explore the planet where he’d tasted the closest thing to total freedom any Loks Mé had ever known.

Before he could change her expectations, first he had to meet them.

Easier said than done.

Dress Up Dress Down with Ava Cuvay

Please join me in welcoming "out of this world" romance author, Ava Cuvay to the LAM Blog! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi! Thanks for letting me come chat about the importance of attire in my upcoming book Love and the Corps. My character’s choice of clothing in this book, and in specific scenes, was particularly fun to write because it helped to complement/contradict my characters.

My heroine, Captain Jo Behsue of the Corps, has a large scar across her face and a strong, sturdy body (thick in all the right places). Rumor has is she is 90% dude, and she has never bothered to prove the rumors wrong. Because she is career military, her clothing choices center around her Corps-issue, boxy, sexless uniforms. She finds the prospect of having to wear a delicate satin evening gown more terrifying than being inserted in the middle of battle with only her fists as weapons. While her uniforms intrigue my hero—is she a plentiful handful or a sweet little mouthful? —the sight of her womanly charms beautifully displayed in a gown sets his passion aflame.

By contrast to his love interest, Lux Krotah of the Klorakian mercenary army—like all his kind—is tall, lithe, and silver, with a beauty nearly effeminate in nature (except for his muscles!). Where the Corps is a blunt, brute-force type of military operation, their girly Klorakian counterparts embody grace in all things, from their physical features to their combat tactics to their architecture and clothing. So, while Jo must wear a gown to the royal ball, the Klorakian ceremonial formal dress is… a skirt. A kilt of iridescent scarves covering just enough of Lux to make Jo’s mouth water.

In Love and the Corps, I enjoyed dressing my characters to contradict stereotype, while trying to keep them sexy in the eyes of the one person who matters: Their Happily-Ever-After. At the very least, I get to have an alien character dressed in a sexy kilt!

Love and the Corps Snippet

Two harried hours later, Jo eased her way through the palace corridors. The quiet halls echoed the soft patter of her sandals—dainty, strappy sandals which were the epitome of femininity, but at least their heels were flat. Her steps were careful, cautious. She attempted a slow, gliding gate, unnerved by how her unsupported breasts swayed and jostled within the bodice of her dress. If she was overly cavalier with her movements, her breasts might escape their delicate confines.

Only one layer of luxurious satin rested between her naked body and disaster.

K’Ahla and the servant girls had transformed Captain Jo Behsue of the Corps into a creature she did not recognize. They had crafted a flowing, watery gown from satin sheets purchased but never used by the former dictator—Jo appreciated the subtle insult to his failed legacy—and swept her thick hair upon her head in a simple chignon she could never replicate. They applied enough make-up for her eyes and her lips to catapult off her face and diva-slap her scar until it faded to obscurity. Jo had stared at her reflection, wondering who the lovely woman was on its surface. Tendrils of dark hair curled at her nape and temple. The dress revealed enough of her olive skin to tempt without putting her on vulgar display. The bodice fell gracefully from one shoulder, over her full breasts, and cinched at her waist. The skirt cascaded to the floor and, as she walked, the hem fluttered like her own ethereal cloud of blue. With each step, the side slits allowed a long, muscular leg to peek through before ducking shyly behind the folds of the fabric.

Jo had to admit K’Ahla and the other women had accomplished the impossible. She was beautiful.

As she made her way to Lux’s room, eager to see his reaction to her transformation, she tried not to ruin their miracle with unnecessary movement. She was accustomed to clomping around in fatigues and boots, giving no regard to how her hair looked or how she moved her body. One wrong turn or a carelessly placed foot could ruin all their hard work.

She turned the corner and saw his door was ajar. Her heart hammered in her chest, her inner soldier immediately at arms. Had someone entered and killed him? Had the despot brother achieved revenge without raising a single alarm? She tiptoed through the opening, her hand at her thigh where her knife was strapped. Even for such a formal occasion as tonight’s ceremony, she was not about to go completely unarmed. Though what she saw next did a damn good job of it.

Lux was alone. And alive. And naked but for a skirt of wispy scarves held low on his waist by an intricate, gem-studded silver belt. A wide collar of matching gems glittered at his neck. What was left was a long, wide expanse of smooth, silvery skin filled to rippling with sleek muscles. Muscles she’d explored with her hands several times. Muscles which could kill in a flash, yet had made her body sing so divinely. Her mouth watered and her body heated. She’d never seen a man in a skirt before, and knew many planets where such a sight was a death wish. Had anyone asked her opinion before this moment, she would have assumed the clothing choice would render the man effeminate.

The vision before her was anything but.

Lux was all man, and one hundred percent sexy. Like Klorakian architecture, he was a perfect meld of power and elegance, fluid grace and fierce strength. He leaned back against the wall, an arm slung casually over his head, the other resting on the exposed thigh of a leg propped against the wall at his back for support. The pose was both relaxed and seductive, an upright version of how he might look in bed after lovemaking. What would it be like to kneel before him, part the scarves like a curtain, and take him into her mouth?

Fire burst in her nerve endings at the thought.

Ava’s Bio:

Ava Cuvay writes out of this world romance featuring sassy heroines, often-alien-but-always-sexy heroes, and an alcoholic beverage or two... Set in a galaxy far, far away. Think "Star Wars" meets "Firefly", without Jar-Jar Binks, and with a lot more heat.

She resides in central Indiana with a hubby who makes her laugh and kiddos who are growing up way too quickly. She enjoys the world of wine and spirits, amusement park thrill rides, and laughing at her own foibles (yeah, she laughs a lot).

She believes life is too short to surround yourself with negative people, and Han Solo shot first. When not writing, Ava is thinking about writing. Or wine. And she’s always thinking about bacon.

Look for “Love and the Corps” Book two of The Heart Nebula Series. To be published by the end of the month!

www.AvaCuvay.com

Ava Cuvay Amazon Author Page

Dress Up Dress Down with Kryssie Fortune

Please join me in welcoming Kryssie Fortune, to tell us about the uniforms in her latest novel, Dominated by the Dragon. A 1960’s Solder Turned Ageless Dragon Shifter.

Like Captain America, Flynn, the hero in my latest novel – Dominated By The Dragon, got caught up in a top secret, military experiment. Rather than turn him into a superhero, it burned a dragon demon into his soul. He’s never aged, but he can’t put down roots, what with the mad scientists who want to vivisect him and all.

Before the experiment that changed him, he was a Captain in the 1960’s British army. The uniform was issued free of charge, but as an officer Flynn would have needed to buy his own belt, boots and cap.

His uniform consisted of a khaki jacket worn over a rough fabric shirt and a knitted tie. He’d wear that over straight legged khaki trousers that chafed his skin, combat boots – highly polished, and well broken in of course. Just look at the heavy stitching around the sole.

Proud to serve Queen and country, Flynn led a special squad. One that was occasionally called the freak show. The men in it were always that bit smarter, stronger and faster. That meant his peaked cap carried his unit’s ensignia – a Spartan helmet. They’d adopted it because the Spartan’s were the first super soldiers.

Noting else about his uniform, not even the spread of the jacket buttons or the design of his belt buckle showed people how special he and his men were.

British_Drill_boots

His uniform epaulets showed his rank. The broad end was stitched to the shoulder then buttoned down at the narrow end. The three diamond shaped pips indicated his rank.

To become a captain, men usually had a minimum of five years’ service and a university degree. Flynn had neither, but as a natural leader, he commanded respect from “the other freaks like himself.”

He planned to train as a vet after he left the service. Instead the army turned him into an animal / demon hybrid and taught him how it felt to be on the wrong side of their vivisection experiments.

If you want to know more about Flynn and how his new life panned out, please check out my latest novel.

Buy links

Luminosity     Dominated by the dragon        http://luminositypublishing.com/product/dominated-by-the-dragon/

Amazon US               http://amzn.to/2agfoFI

All Romance           http://bit.ly/29ZkMei

Blurb

A former super soldier turned dragon demon must choose between his soul mate and saving the world from a nuclear winter.

The British army’s nuclear testing bonded a dragon into Flynn Hemsworth’s soul. Military scientists vivisected and tortured him until he escaped two years later. Although he’s never aged, he’s been alone and on the run for almost six decades. When he prevents a naked woman from being the prize lot in a coven’s slave auction, he realizes she has an unexplored submissive streak.

Hope Mathews—a sassy blonde with killer keyboard skills—is a strong independent woman. When Flynn prevents her being sold to a demon, she discovers she enjoys spankings and light bondage. Together Hope and Flynn must shut down a coven of black magicians, rescue kidnapped demons, and stop a black ops nuclear missile hitting the UK. Even if they manage all that, Hope’s the granddaughter of a billionaire while Flynn’s still on the run from the military who want to dissect him again. Can they find common ground and build a life together?

Reader Advisory: Contains explicit language, a virginal heroine who discovers she enjoys spanking and bondage. Add in some serious dragon demon loving, light the blue touch paper, stand back, and watch the sparks fly. PUBLISHER NOTE: Paranormal BDSM Romance – 63,094 words. BDSM, Exhibitionism, Orgies and Spanking.

Dress Up, Dress Down with Nicole Evelina

Please join me in welcoming multi-award-winning writer Nicole Evelina, as she presents to us the story of an unconventional woman, Victoria Woodhull. Victoria Woodhull – Clothing as Rebellion in late 19th Century America

My latest historical fiction novel, Madame Presidentess, is about Victoria Woodhull, the first woman to run for President in the United States. Not only that, she was also the first woman to run a stock brokerage on Wall

Public domain picture courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Street (co-owned with her sister, Tennie), the first to testify before a sitting committee of Congress and one of the first to run a weekly newspaper (also with Tennie).

Given that, you may be wondering why clothes would matter in this novel. Well, Victoria was also what they called at the time a “sex radical” – that is, is she believed in the concept of Free Love. To her, the term meant that a marriage should begin when two people fell in love and end when they are no longer in love, without interference from the government. (It was difficult to get a divorce in 19th century America; in many states, the only way you could do so was by proving adultery.)

It is likely that Victoria was introduced to the Free Love movement by her second husband, Col. James Blood. As a member, she wore her hair short (at least for the time), adopted a more masculine form of dress (without the bustles and corsets common at the time) in protest of the sexual inequality between men and women.

Her sister, Tennie, joined her in this movement. On the day they first opened their Wall Street brokerage, they purposefully adopted a more masculine outfits, wearing instead of corsets and bustles, deep blue jackets embroidered with rich velvet which were broad at the shoulders, but tapered to contoured curves at the waist, over matching skirts that reached only to the tops of their shoes. That, too, was a carefully planned statement, designed to draw attention and remind onlookers that while they were too modest to show their ankles like common whores, they also were no ordinary women. They wore no ruffles, jewelry or makeup that would define them as overtly feminine, choosing for their only accessories bow ties made of silk.

Another day, Victoria is said to have shown off an outfit she wanted to wear when she was President. She shocked her friends, at least one of whom was a reporter for the New York Sun, by changing into dark blue pants that ended at the knee and were buckled over light blue stockings. On the top she wore a dark blue tunic with a man’s collar and cravat. The following exchange is said to have taken place between her and the reporter.

“This,” Victoria declared, “is what I intend to wear in the streets of New York, and at my banking house on Broad Street.”

“Mrs. Woodhull, if you appear on the street in that dress, the police will arrest you,” the reporter replied.

“No, they won’t. When I am ready to make my appearance in this dress, no police will touch me.”

And as far as records show, she was right, though it’s uncertain if she ever appeared in that particular getup in public. Victoria did later find herself in jail, but the reason had nothing to do with her clothing and everything to do with her unwillingness to keep quiet in the face of injustice and coddle those in power.

By using what she wore as an expression of what she believed, Victoria was making a strong statement of non-conformity to her time. Even when she didn’t wear outfits that we overly aligned with the sex radicals, she preferred to avoid corsets and wore no jewelry, only a white rose at her throat, which would become her trademark.  So as you read Madame Presidentess, try not to picture her as a typical 19th century woman. Her hair was short, her clothes unconventional and voice loud. She was not one to be silenced then and its time her name is in the history books now.


Madame Presidentess eBook Cover No Quote LargeMadame Presidentess

Forty-eight years before women were granted the right to vote, one woman dared to run for President of the United States, yet her name has been virtually written out of the history books.

Rising from the shame of an abusive childhood, Victoria Woodhull, the daughter of a con-man and a religious zealot, vows to follow her destiny, one the spirits say will lead her out of poverty to “become ruler of her people.”

But the road to glory is far from easy. A nightmarish marriage teaches Victoria that women are stronger and deserve far more credit than society gives. Eschewing the conventions of her day, she strikes out on her own to improve herself and the lot of American women.

Over the next several years, she sets into motion plans that shatter the old boys club of Wall Street and defile even the sanctity of the halls of Congress. But it’s not just her ambition that threatens men of wealth and privilege; when she announces her candidacy for President in the 1872 election, they realize she may well usurp the power they’ve so long fought to protect.

Those who support her laud “Notorious Victoria” as a gifted spiritualist medium and healer, a talented financial mind, a fresh voice in the suffrage movement, and the radical idealist needed to move the nation forward. But those who dislike her see a dangerous force who is too willing to speak out when women are expected to be quiet. Ultimately, “Mrs. Satan’s” radical views on women’s rights, equality of the sexes, free love and the role of politics in private affairs collide with her tumultuous personal life to endanger all she has built and change how she is viewed by future generations.

This is the story of one woman who was ahead of her time – a woman who would make waves even in the 21st century – but who dared to speak out and challenge the conventions of post-Civil War America, setting a precedent that is still followed by female politicians today.

 More about Nicole

Nicole Evelina is a multi-award-winning historical fiction and romantic comedy writer. Her most recent novel, Madame Presidentess, a historical novel about Victoria Woodhull, America's first female Presidential Nicole Evelina headshot horizontalcandidate, was the first place winner in the Women’s US History category of the 2015 Chaucer Awards for Historical Fiction.

Her debut novel, Daughter of Destiny, the first book of an Arthurian legend trilogy that tells Guinevere’s life story from her point of view, was named Book of the Year by Chanticleer Reviews, took the Grand Prize in the 2015 Chatelaine Awards for Women’s Fiction/Romance, won a Gold Medal in the fantasy category in the Next Generation Indie Book Awards and was short-listed for the Chaucer Award for Historical Fiction.  Been Searching for You, her contemporary romantic comedy, won the 2015 Romance Writers of America (RWA) Great Expectations and Golden Rose contests.

Nicole’s writing has appeared in The Huffington Post, Curve Magazine and numerous historical publications. She is one of only six authors who completed a week-long writing intensive taught by #1 New York Times bestselling author Deborah Harkness. As an armchair historian, Nicole researches her books extensively, consulting with biographers, historical societies and traveling to locations when possible. For example, she traveled to England twice to research the Guinevere’s Tale trilogy, where she consulted with internationally acclaimed author and historian Geoffrey Ashe, as well as Arthurian/Glastonbury expert Jaime George, the man who helped Marion Zimmer Bradley research The Mists of Avalon.

Nicole is a member of and book reviewer for The Historical Novel Society, and Sirens (a group supporting female fantasy authors), as well as a member of the Historical Writers of America, Women’s Fiction Writers Association, Romance Writers of America, the St. Louis Writer’s Guild, Women Writing the West, Broad Universe (promoting women in fantasy, science fiction and horror), Alliance of Independent Authors, the Independent Book Publishers Association and the Midwest Publisher’s Association.

Her website is http://nicoleevelina.com.

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