Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Cafe In The Park 18+ NSFW

Thank you for inviting me to your blog today Hunter, it’s lovely to be here.
I’m talking about my muse today. I’ve been asked countless times about what has inspired a story or about my muse. I always have some unexpected (for me) inspiration behind a story. Even a tiny thing can seed a story for me. I hesitate to name my muse as any one thing. Certainly, my muses are far away from the traditional ancient goddesses of the arts. It’s rare for me to have the same muse for two stories. Unless I have the god of dreams whispering in my ear and simply don’t know it, I attribute my stories to experiences, scenes, glimpses of other people’s lives, emotions, sometimes pictures, once or twice, a photograph.
Behind my love stories is always the thread of hope that somewhere in the world real love exists for some people. I always write happy endings. I simply have to. It usually just happens in my story as I write, but if it didn’t I’m sure I would contrive it.
I have a new release book from Siren Publishing, Café in the Park. It’s an erotic romance, which means the bedroom door is open in the love scenes. We get to experience the passion, lust and love each character has for the other. What inspired Café in the Park?
Over the summer, I noticed an upsurge of advertisements for dating agencies. After seeing a few for a leading matching site, I found myself grinning at the models used in the visuals for the person a client might meet. Then the idea for a story of a lonely woman who joins a dating site and actually meets her dream man seeded, but I couldn’t let him be a normal man, because I don’t really believe in the reality of internet or agency dating. Maybe I’ve only heard the horror stories. (smiles) The photos on the dating sites simply didn’t match with the models used in their advertisements and then I thought what if behind one of those photos lay a gorgeous man who had to hide his appearance for some reason?
Chris Donato, my hero, in Café in the Park, had to be different, a fantasy, a paranormal character, so that I could use the idea for a story at all.
I’ve always been interested in ancient history and know a few legends that have grown up around sacred sites across the world. I find Roman history fascinating. I combined a legend I know about a lost Roman legion and a legend from Native Americans to form the basis for why Chris Donato is what he is. The premise of his absolute origins still remains vague within the story because he must retain an air of mystery for me, so let’s just say he is ancient.
I always fall in love with my characters. Chris, and Emily, my heroine, are very loveable. Emily is so recognizable, a pretty, intelligent woman, longing for love and yet without the environment to find it. Chris is the quintessential paranormal hero, a mystery, an enigma, and yet desperate for love because of his life experience. He’s also a modern hero, a singer and guitar player in a rock band, and a competent businessperson. He’s sexy, kind, gorgeous, adorable, and something else…
 Read an excerpt 18+ NSFW
Emily came with a long, low moan, gasping and writhing on his tongue and fingers.
His eyes closed, he breathed in her scent. His cock jerked and grew as she groaned and thrust. This was more than he’d ever felt. It was bliss to hear and feel her come. He thrust his hard cock on the soft side of the sofa cushion.
Her hands teased at his ears as she reached down to hold his head.
Instinctively he knew she wanted to kiss him.
He let go of her clit regretfully and pulled his fingers from the lovely surround of her pussy. He kissed lovingly up her stomach to her mouth. His hand cupping a breast to soak up the softness there, he kissed her between whispers. “You’re so gorgeous and so sexy. I could make love to you forever. Never leave this place, never stop.”
Emily reached one hand to his cock. She shuffled to reach his balls with the other. She traced there, her fingertips moving over his skin.
Streams of sensation sent his hips thrusting in little involuntary jerks.
She tightened her grip on his cock.
“You’re hard again. That’s so yummy. Stand up. Let me suck you. I want to.”
Chris didn’t think he could stand up. His legs felt like jelly, but the lure of having her mouth on his cock was irresistible. He pulled away from her and stood.
She shifted to sit on the edge of the sofa. She brought him between her thighs to kiss the head of his cock.
That alone nearly made him come.
She licked along the shaft of his cock, held him, and sucked at the head as if he was a lollipop.
He moved to her sucks, his hands fisting in her hair. The feel of her lips going up and down his cock and the way she took most of his cock into her mouth made him sweat. He tried not to thrust into her mouth, tried not to grip her head hard. Sweat trickled down his back between his shoulders and filmed on his chest muscles.
She sucked deep until he growled with each one and then his orgasm hit him. It threw him forward into her mouth. The hot shooting cum filled her mouth and scorched the lower shaft of his cock as she held his ass and let him thrust into her mouth.
When the orgasm finished, the need to fall at her feet was so strong he bent to her ear.
“Emily, let’s lie down. I want to hold you close.”
She took his cock from her mouth. Kissed the head and stood.
“We’ll go to bed. Let’s go to bed.” She pulled him along by the hand to her bedroom.
Chris felt so spent, and so loved, with a soft sound of satisfaction, he let her lead him. When they were in her bedroom, he picked her up and laid her on the quilt. He kissed her tenderly before he lay down beside her and gathered her against his body possessively. She was his love now. He would never let her go.
Copyright Elodie Parkes 2014, Siren Publishing All Rights Reserved

Available at 10% launch discount on the Siren Publishing website, Cafe in the Park, erotic, paranormal romance.
TBR
Pinterest posters

About Elodie:
Elodie Parkes is a British author writing romance, erotic, contemporary, and often with a twist of mystery, paranormal or suspense. Her books are always steamy, cool stories and hot love scenes.
Elodie lives in Canterbury with her two dogs. She works in an antique shop by day and writes at night, loving the cloak of silent darkness that descends on the rural countryside around her home.
She has also released titles as an individual indie author.
Find Elodie online: Blog  Tumblr  Facebook  Twitter 


Monday, August 25, 2014

BREAKING NEWS

Atlanta, GA August 25, 2014



It's official. The best selling novel SEPTEMBER ENDS by Hunter S.Jones & An Anonymous English Poet has won Best Independently Published Romance of the Year by eFestival of Words. eFestival of Words Virtual Book Fair is the host of the annual Best of the Independent eBook Awards. You can access the site and the list of winners at www.efestivalofwords.com. To qualify for an award , a book must be peer nominated by numerous sources, then judged by a panel of editors, publishers and agents before the Finalists are announced. Once the Finalists are announced, the awards are based on popular votes, with a Winner and Runner-Up being named in each category. 


SEPTEMBER ENDS is an epistolary novel. The story is told through diary entries, emails, chat rooms and poetry. It is contemporary fiction with erotic and supernatural elements bound by poetry. Folloiwng are introductions to the three main characters, Liz Snow, Pete Hendrix and Jack O. Savage.

LIZ SNOW
I am Liz Snow, Elizabeth October Snow, from Atlanta, Georgia, USA. Actually I’m from a small town in north Georgia called LaFayette. My grandfather died suddenly when I was young, then I saw my only brother die in a useless traffic accident. So, you see, I’m not your typical girl. Years of anti-depressants, alcohol and bad relationships have damaged me emotionally. I hide myself in my career as a software executive. I never really knew what love was until meeting Peter William Hendrix III of Chattanooga, Tennessee. Or at least that’s what I thought until Pete’s betrayal.

PETE HENDRIX
I’m successful, some say handsome, attorney Pete Hendrix of the firm Hendrix, Hendrix & Smith in Chattanooga, Tennessee, USA. I attended undergrad at Vanderbilt University, graduated law school with honors and returned to Chattanooga to run the family law firm. I live the life my mother always wanted for me. As often as possible, go to my cabin on Walden Ridge. There, I swim in the clear, cool water from the cave, read and spend time in solitude looking onto the scenic Sequatchie Valley, the sacred hunting grounds of the Cherokee Nation before the Trail of Tears. My life is structured and secure. But, I never expected to meet a girl like Liz Snow. I loved Liz with my heart and soul. Then, she discovered my secret.

WIKI ENTRY: JACK O SAVAGE
English poet, novelist, and founder member of The Renaissance Bards trio of spoken word artists, Jack O Savage leapt to prominence on being expelled from Jesus College, Oxford for allegedly plotting an arson attack on the college in which he supposedly planned to 'raise English successist complacency to its foundations', though no charges were ever brought against him. The Sun tabloid newspaper ran a story proclaiming POSH POET GETS CHOP referring to Savage's 'chopper protest' in which he was arrested for 'leaping atop a 17th century oak refectory table and lewdly flaunting his generous masculinity' at a formal disciplinary hearing, a gesture which he later repeated in public and which subsequently went viral on YouTube, receiving over 100 million hits in under two hours.

You can order a copy here, or order a paperback through CreateSpace. As of today, thanks to Nashville's Ingram Spark, you can order a copy of SEPTEMBER ENDS from your local book store, no matter where you are on the globe! 

Thank you to everyone who made this possible for me and thank you to everyone who will take the time to read SEPTEMBER ENDS and the September Stories. 

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Bound by the Buccaneer by Normandie Alleman

Bound by the Buccaneer by Normandie Alleman

Meet Gaston Galette, the pirate with a patch and hero of the Pirates of the Jolie Rouge Trilogy.


What past event in your character’s life has defined them the most? Gaston’s first wife and their child dying during childbirth. After that he left his plantation in the Carolinas and sailed to the Caribbean where he became a pirate.
What is your character’s biggest vice? His sex games with his “slave” Frederica. He loves to tie her up with rope and have his way with her.
Who is your character's confidant? Hatch, a giant of a pirate who has been with him for years. But as Hatch and Frederica form more of a bond, Gaston feels less and less like he can go to his old friend with his troubles. Unfortunately, Gaston finds himself quite isolated in Bound by the Buccaneer and seeks solace in the bottle.
What is the thing that has frightened your character most? Since his wife died and he knows how fragile life is, he fears he will lose Frederica as well.
Does your character believe in revenge?  If so, how did they get it? Gaston does believe in revenge. I think it is part of the pirate code, and he and Frederica will seek theirs with Captain Humphrey who kidnapped and abused Frederica in the third book of the trilogy so you’ll just have to wait and see.

Excerpt from Normandie Alleman's latest erotic historical novella, Bound by the Buccaneer.
“You love knowing I can’t escape, don’t you? That I’m all yours,” Frederica teased, tugging at the restraints that bound her wrists to the bed.
            Gaston raised a brow to her. “And what if I do?” He asked, untying the ropes from her wrists. “You know how much it excites me to see you all bound and helpless. Don’t you like being my own personal little whore?” Mischief danced in his visible brown eye. The other hid behind a black patch, injured in battle.
            She touched a finger to her lips and rolled her eyes in mock consideration.
            Before she had a chance to answer his rather rhetorical question, he pounced on her. His weight upon her gave her a feeling of warmth and security she felt at no other time than lying under him.
            “Liar,” he whispered into her ear, his mouth trailing down her neck. “Tell me how much you love it.” Then he proceeded to tickle her ribs which sent her into a gale of giggles.
            “Must I resort to the gag again?” He waved a red kerchief in the air playfully.
            Her laughter made it difficult to speak. “Yes, yes, I love it.” Her voice reached a high-pitched squeal.
            He ceased the tickling and sensually covered her mouth with his hand. “You must remain quiet or I will be forced to quiet you.” With each word his mouth traveled lower on her body, accentuating every word with a kiss.
            Gaston hated for her to be too loud during their lovemaking. He worried that if the crew heard them, it would cause trouble. It wasn’t exactly fair for the Captain to be the only man aboard with a woman to bed every night. It was unclear to her whether he was more worried the pirates would rape her or if he feared they would stage a mutiny of his leadership, or both. Either was a potential problem if the men grew irritable enough.
            So she tried to be quiet, but it was difficult considering the way Gaston brought her to such heights of ecstasy. Though she’d been a virgin when they met, and therefore inexperienced, she had no doubt he had talents in the bedroom that exceeded those of most men.
            All he had to do was look at her a certain way, and Frederica’s body responded to him. His kisses awakened a fire inside her that only he could douse. “I know how you can keep me quiet,” she breathed huskily.

Bound by the Buccaneer


Two years have passed since Frederica joined Gaston aboard the Ocean’s Knave, and with every passing hour they have fallen more deeply in love. By day she is the ship’s physician, but at night she serves her captain in his bed, offering her body for him to punish and pleasure until she begs for more. But after a successful run of raiding other pirate ships, the couple have a target on their backs.
Their only hope is to form an alliance with a trio of like-minded captains, but in order to guarantee the cooperation of these unyielding, battle-hardened men, Gaston is forced to offer them a night with Frederica. Reluctantly, she agrees to be shared with the men, but afterwards Gaston finds it difficult to forgive himself for bartering Frederica’s charms. As jealousy and desperation threaten to consume him, will Gaston lose his beloved Frederica or can he weather the storm and find a way to bind her to him forever?
Publisher’s Note: Bound by the Buccaneer is the second book of the Pirates of the Jolie Rouge trilogy, which began with Rescued by the Buccaneer. It is an adventure and erotic romance novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes including a foursome, anal play, elements of BDSM, and more.
You can pick up your copy of Bound by the Buccaneer today:
Since the Pirate of the Jolie Rouge Trilogy is best read in order, here’s more about the first book:

Rescued by the Buccaneer


When Frederica Beauchamp boards a ship for the Americas, she dreams of a life filled with adventure, but she gets more than she bargained for when her passenger ship is attacked by pirates.  The heartless men kidnap her and force her to serve their captain—a fate that might be worse than death, since though he does not have his way with her, the captain delights in baring her, shaming her, and thrashing her bare bottom as punishment for every imagined disobedience.

After the pirates bring aboard an injured man found floating in the sea, Frederica tends to his wounds and learns that he is Gaston Galette, a survivor of a shipwrecked vessel. Gaston seeks her help to overthrow the vile captain, but when their plan goes awry he is forced to use all of his wiles to save them. As the naïve girl and the seasoned sailor navigate one perilous situation after another, he informs Frederica that the only way they can survive is if he is in command, and that if she thinks things can be otherwise, she will be taken over his knee for a bare bottom spanking.

As he watches the proud, willful Frederica bow to his authority, however, Gaston worries that her growing hold on his heart will be his downfall. He knows he cannot take a woman with him when he returns to his ship and crew, but when Frederica accepts his lustful dominance completely, submitting to him with grace and beauty no other woman could match, Gaston realizes that he may never be able to let her go.

Publisher’s Note: Rescued by the Buccaneer is the first book of the Pirates of the Jolie Rouge trilogy. It is an adventure and erotic romance novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes including elements of BDSM and humiliation, and more.
You can find Rescued by the Buccaneer here:
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/OWS1Tu

About the Author
A former psychologist, Normandie has always been fascinated by human behavior. She loves writing quirky characters that are all too human. Fiber arts, baking, and Pinterest are a few of her favorite pastimes. She lives on a farm with a passel of kids, an adorable husband, and a pet pig who’s crazy for Red Bull.
Find her here:
Twitter at @NormandieA  https://twitter.com/NormandieA

Saturday, August 16, 2014

SPILT MILK by D.K. Cassidy #SummerMustReads

Looking for a short read? One which will make you laugh and cry? Sigh and remember? Look no further because I have just the book for you. SPILT MILK: A Collection of Stories by D.K. Cassidy is one of those lovely little books that you cannot put down. It is perfect to read on the train into work, on a lazy weekend afternoon or just to have on your device to a quick story following lunch or at break time. This book hit Amazon’s Best Seller lists right out of the gate. Let me give you more info, then you can download it and see for yourself why so many people are loving

 SPILT MILK: A Collection of Stories

Spilt_Milk_Cover

Within these pages you will meet an array of characters making choices. Each brief story deliberately distills a life’s essence.
Mika Sugano’s original drawings compliment each of D. K. Cassidy’s flashes of fiction, heightening these refreshing ideas and themes on the page.
 ~|~
Welcome to urban Gothic stories that are droll, horrific, and thought provoking all in one.
 George , a child who collects things
Cinderella’s stepmother in therapy
  • A paraplegic finds her true life
  • Caleb, unwanted, neglected, now grown
  • Jared, baptized in a coffee world
  • A mother lost in her torn past
  • And six others
  • ~~~
Excerpt from the story Bee’s Knees
 They lifted her off the first table and put her on a cold steel platform. Just in case. The nurse transferring all her tubes with a veteran’s efficiency. Trying to maintain her dignity by covering the woman’s body.
Feel great, she joked. The fast ride through the hospital corridor, the orderly weaving between oncoming groups of people, made her remember amusement rides. He backed into an operating room and stopped next to the table that was to be the new mother’splace for the birth of her child.
Like a magician’s assistant, body sawed in half, the epidermal made her think, Magical! She glanced down to the chilled table, not sure the orderly remembered to transfer her lower half.
Buzzing in her toes alerted the young mother. She wasn’t supposed to be feeling anything. The bees crept up her knees. Then she saw panic in her doctor’s eyes.
~~~
DK_Cassidy
D.K. Cassidy has been scribbling stories since she was a child and loves to write in various genres including Magical Realism, Urban Gothic, Science Fiction, and Literary Fiction. She has a B.A. in English Literature from the University of Washington.
D.K. Cassidy lives in the Pacific Northwest with her greatest fans: her husband Mark, twin sons Aidan and Jared, and three cats. When not writing, she loves to travel, run, knit, use the Oxford comma, and of course read!
If you like her work please follow her:

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

SEPTEMBER ENDS #FREE



Now you can download the indie sensation SEPTEMBER ENDS for free via Kindle Unlimited.  Here's what critics are saying about this novel.
"The stuff legends are made of" "She blew my mind" "Original" "Something you need to experience" 

Get your free copy today!

 SEPTEMBER ENDS

Sometimes when you believe it's the end it's only the beginning.

Saturday, July 19, 2014

What's Wrong With Being Indie

It seems that every time you read a review of an indie book publication, somewhere you will read it needs to be edited…or…could use correct punctuation…or…I didn’t like the ending.
Why?
First of all, when you find a mistake, PLEASE let us know so that it can be corrected, like immediately. When anyone writes, we see what is in our head, not what is on the page. I’ve paid a lot of money for editing. I also have paid a lot of money for books from the major publishing houses with spelling and punctuation mistakes. This is not the sole provenance of indie publishing. Nothing’s perfect. Please let authors know when you find a mistake. It would really help.
Secondly, let’s talk about punctuation. Have you ever considered that many authors misuse punctuation as an expression of their art? Oftentimes, writing is an art form, not an exercise in composition. You can play with fiction. Maybe the punctuation is the way the author wants it-a vital part of their creation. Didn’t Faulkner win a Pulitzer for doing funky stuff with, or without, punctuation? Indie musicians become rock gods because of an early riff or the wrong drum beat. They are considered geniuses for their ‘mistakes’. Why aren’t indie authors who misuse words or punctuation viewed much the same?
Lastly, you don’t like the ending. You don’t like the ending? What’s that all about? Yes, we live in a world where you can choose the ending of some TV shows, but c’mon, we’re talking about books. Since when do you get to choose how a book ends? The ending is chosen by the author. As a matter of fact, the entire book is the author’s concept. Currently, some authors ARE experimenting with allowing fans to choose the ending. You work with us, we’ll work with you. How’s that? Remember, writing is an art form…
Indie music is glamourized and glorified, which is completely understandable. When that indie scene started, the word from the major recording labels was that indie musician’s weren’t good enough to get a record deal. Doesn’t that sound like what is currently going on in the publishing world, only with authors? Now, don’t get me wrong, should a major publisher chose to sign me, I would graciously accept the offer. (I’m not holding my breath.) Until that day dawns, I will, and more importantly, I CAN publish as an indie author.
Wasn’t the American Revolution ignited by an independent writer named Tom Paine? Throughout history, indie writers have taken on many genres, forms and roles. Love us and all our flaws because we have the courage to publish independently. Get with today’s indie publishing revolution because we’re not going away. For those who already support us, thank you. Your dedication and insight mean a great deal.
Next time you read an indie book or story, find reasons to fall in love with it. Does it inspire you? Is it original?
We’re writers. Don’t hate us because we’re imaginative. We’re reclusive. We’re enigmatic. Will you accept our work, or laugh at us? Either way, we wish to share our dreams and visions with you. Join us. Give us a bit of your time. Instead of buying that cup of coffee which will eventually find its way to a landfill, download someone’s book. You won’t regret it, I promise.
So what’s wrong with being indie? Absolutely nothing. Free your mind and enjoy the ride.
Special first anniversary blog. Originally published July, 2013 via Medium.com


Friday, June 27, 2014

The Mutinous Boomer Speaks!

Confessions of an Instinctively Mutinous Baby Boomer
and her 
Parable of the Tomato Plant


Special blog post written by the Mutinous One 

Marsha Roberts

A few weeks ago I  released "Confessions of an Instinctively Mutinous Baby Boomer" as an audiobook - truly a labor of love. My best gal friend also happens to be a fabulous actress I've worked with for years: Della Cole. You see, I'm also a theatrical producer and Della and I have traveled the globe together entertaining American troops and their families, here in the states and overseas. I share some of these adventures in my Mutinous Boomer book and since Della was actually there during many of them, she is able to bring a personal warmth to the narration that you rarely hear in an audiobook. Reviewers have often commented that my style of writing is like sitting down with an old friend, sharing life lessons over a cup of coffee. Della's approach to the narration definitely captures that tone and I couldn't be more pleased that she's my "voice."

~~>> AUDIO SAMPLE <<~~

Of course my book is also available as an ebook, which means that if you have a Kindle, the Whispersync technology is available, where you can listen to it when you like, then when you're ready to pick it up and read again, it's synced up to where you left off! Amazing how they do that! Plus, for those who would rather curl up to a physical book, Mutinous Boomer is also in paperback.

What is my book about? It's about what happens when real life collides with real miracles! Is it a memoir? Yes, in a way. Is it spiritual? Certainly, in that everything is. Do I reveal my deepest, darkest secrets? A few of them. Why should someone want to read or listen to it? I'll quote one of my reader's reviews, "If you believe in miracles, or if you don't and you would like to, read this book." Or listen to it!



Links








Sunday, June 22, 2014

ROCK STAR ROMANCE by LISA GILLIS

ROCK STAR ROMANCE TRILOGY AVAILABLE!!!



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

VIEW AND BUY LINK TO THE BOOK SET 
(Feel free to add your own affiliate code)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 BLURB

They are friends in public, lovers in private. In an age of sex, drugs, rock and roll, they want it all. But 'all' has a different definition to everyone. What happens when sexy drummer Matt Loren wants bandmate Jules Breaux as more than a bedroom plaything? Is her love more than a four letter word?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

ABOUT THE SERIES

NEW ROCK STAR ROMANCE RELEASE!

Love Rock Stars?

Last summer, Lisa Gillis debuted her new series Six Silver Strings.

The G-Strings Set starring Jack Storm, rock star, and single mom Marissa Dupleux won us over with a sinfully sexy yet moody musician, and a slightly star-struck heroine. Throw in a couple of dogs, a precocious toddler, sizzling chemistry between Jack and Marissa, and this cast is not easy to leave behind.

This summer brings the D-String Set and a whole different decade for our rock star reading addiction.

Matt Loren and Jules Breaux grew up on opposite coasts. However, the first steamy meeting between the two, makes it more than obvious that six states wouldn't have kept these star-crossed lovers apart forever.

Jules, daughter of two jet-setting parents, is a rebel, and a borderline alcoholic in the opening chapters. Matt, who turns up in Los Angeles to meet his estranged father, is responsible in every way. The two are drawn together by their love for music, and talent for composing it. In the creation of a band, they become fast friends-and just as quickly become more. They hide their steamy affair for the sake of the band. At least, that's their excuse to each other and themselves. As the chapters move along, each have their own reasons for embracing a noncommittal relationship as tightly as they embrace one another when no one is looking.

This hot love affair, and the tension that comes with it, spans almost a decade during a time when saying "I'm sorry" wasn't as easy as having a cell phone at the fingertips and time when keeping tabs on an ex wasn't a social network page away.

The series is released as a box set, which means hours of uninterrupted summer reading ahead.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


EXCERPT

“How many times can I apologize?”

With the chair in her hand, and magazine in other, she couldn’t fend him off when he retaliated by pulling her back against his wet length, and by grabbing her. He couldn’t seem to get enough of the little bit of weight gain covered at the moment by her bikini top.

“Can I help it if I like your apologies?”

Jules tried to glare at him, but she couldn’t. The memory he’d just alluded to was only a few weeks old. They had been alone in his bedroom, and she couldn’t even remember what she had been sorry for. It had been something silly… just an excuse to goof off… to fool around… to go down.

The blush heating her face had to be visible even in the hot sun. Thankfully, both Candi and Marc were somewhere on a wave far behind them as Matt was just coming in from an attempted ride on the board. Several people were scattered on the beach, but seemed to be paying no mind to them. It was a good thing. Because Matt must have remembered the aforementioned apology in detail as soon as he said it.

“You have only yourself to blame.” Jules told him when she felt his plight.

“That’s just not true. I blame you. Surfing in your little bikini. Sitting here in your little bikini…”

His hands had dropped to her waist. Maybe in self-defense to remind her she was a human shield. Water dripped from his hair as he bent his head, speaking his seductive words right next to her ear. Seducing her in front of at least a dozen people, ankle deep in high tide, at high noon.


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

SOCIAL CONNECTIONS

Browse Lisa Gillis Personal Web Page

Friend Lisa the Drama Queen Gillis on Facebook

Visit Lisa's Kindle Author Page

Google Plus

Lisa's Blog

Twitter

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

AUTHOR BIO
Lisa Gillis resides in Texas, and often references this state in her books. Writing is a recent passion, and she strives in her books to blend a perfect mixture of fantasy and reality. Her love for music, bands, and concerts inspired her Strings Series. When she is not writing those little voices out of her head while listening to music, she is making her own noise on drums or guitar. You can visit her at http://www.rockstarreads.com/

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tell us a bit about your newest series The daughter of an iconic 60's rock star, is torn between making a name for herself in the 70's and quietly living a simpler life, and of course there is a steamy romance involved, with a hot musician.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

SURVIVING the STORM by Sherry A. Burton #SummerMustRead


Following a tragic year, Abby thinks she is making a wise choice when she agrees to marry Jacob. While admittedly not in love with him, he has always made her feel safe and protected. That feeling quickly dissipates when he reveals his true colors on their wedding day. With no means to escape, Abby must decide her fate. Not willing to bend to her new husband’s rule, she is in a fight for survival, and a desperate race to discover what secrets he is keeping from her. Secrets that threaten to destroy the very foundation of her soul. Set in New Orleans during a storm that devastated so many, Surviving the Storm is a tension-building tale of suspense that does not let up until the two storms collide.

This is one of those fantastic books that you just have to read. If possible, I would give it ten stars. Yeah, it's that good. Get your copy today on Amazon!

Sunday, June 15, 2014

Presenting AMBER LEA EASTON & DANCING BAREFOOT

We are pleased to present:

Jessica Moriarty appears to have it all—a successful career as an architect, a loyal group of friends, a gorgeous apartment, and an on-again-off-again affair with Boston's most eligible bachelor. Behind this “perfect life” façade, Jessica hides the loss she feels over giving up her dream career as an artist, copes with a destructive relationship with her alcoholic mother, and struggles with heartbreak over a lost love.

Jacques Sinclair only needs his cameras, a backpack, and a good pair of walking shoes. A world-renowned photographer, he is a man without boundaries. Despite fame and fortune, he still yearns for the woman who shattered his heart when she vanished from his life five years ago.

A chance meeting brings Jacques and Jessica back together. Reunions aren't always planned or welcomed, but chemistry has a way of revealing what is denied. Ensnared in a web of sabotage and conspiracy—carefully constructed by people who want to control their lives—Jacques and Jessica struggle to trust each other, break free from the status quo, reclaim their love, and build a life of extraordinary possibility.


Amber Lea Easton is a multi-published fiction and nonfiction author. Smart is sexy, according to Easton, which is why she writes about strong female characters who have their flaws and challenges but ultimately persevere. She currently has six contemporary romance and romantic suspense novels out in the world: Kiss Me Slowly, Riptide, Reckless Endangerment, Anonymity, In Between, and Dancing Barefoot. Her memoir, Free Fall, is dedicated to suicide prevention, awareness, and helping others navigate the dark journey of grief.

In addition, Easton works as an editor, freelance journalist, and professional speaker. She speaks on subjects ranging from writing to widowhood. Some of her videos on romance writing have appeared on the international Writers & Authors television network. Current radio appearances are linked via her author website, http://www.amberleaeaston.com.

Easton currently lives with her two teenagers in the Colorado Rocky Mountains where she gives thanks daily for the gorgeous view outside her window. She finds inspiration from traveling, the people she meets, nature and life’s twists and turns. At the end of the day, as long as she's writing, she considers herself simply to be "a lucky lady liv'n the dream."

Easton also publishes under the name Dakota Skye who has one paranormal erotic romance, Blurred Lines, currently available and another, Deadly Decadence, due out in the fall of 2014


 

Amazon Author Page: viewAuthor.at/AmberLeaEaston

Excerpt One (short)

 

She stood on the threshold of the bookstore dodging patrons and pedestrians. Ten past seven. Regret sagged her knees. For the second time in her life, she labeled herself the Queen of Self-Sabotage. As if leaning against a fierce wind of remorse, she pushed the door open, and forced one foot in front of the other.

“I’m looking for Jacques Sinclair.” She forced the words from a too-dry throat.

“I’m sorry, you just missed him.” The employee didn’t look up from the stack of books she arranged on a table.

Missed him. She nodded without truly understanding how she could have undermined herself like this. Again. “He’s really gone then?”

The girl worked as if she hadn’t spoken, head down, oblivious.

Her gaze connected with the cover of Jacques’s book. Legs heavy and unsteady, she maneuvered toward the display until she touched the cover with her fingertips.

Rome.

Closing her eyes, she smelled the overpowering scent of the roses, felt the early morning breeze against bare skin, sensed him moving behind her, tasted him on her lips, heard the low sound of his voice saying her name.

“Excuse me, do you know if Mr. Sinclair is staying in Boston tonight?” she asked.

The woman looked at her as if she were a stalker. “He probably went back to New York. His gallery exhibit isn't until next weekend.”

“Back to New York?” Information overload crashed her system. So close. The same side of the Atlantic. She braced herself against the counter.

“He lives in New York,” she answered as if speaking to a small, slow child.

“Right. He has an exhibit next Saturday. I saw that in the article...what gallery?” She handed over her credit card and blinked at the cover again.

"The Bliss Institute."

Breathing ceased again and she silently cursed Fate. Her friend Miranda owned the Bliss Institute. What was happening? Did Jacques know that? Of course not, how could he? She felt like an insane woman on the precipice of a major nervous breakdown.

“Are you all right?” The woman grabbed the book and slipped it into a bag.

“Perfect, never better.” She needed a martini…she’d give her life for a martini. Oblivion sounded like heaven right now.

The girl handed her the receipt before stepping away as if afraid of catching the insanity bug.

Six weeks. Jacques planned on being in Boston for six weeks.

Laughter from upstairs halted her retreat. As if dragging her legs through mud, she walked toward the stairs. With every step, memories overpowered her. Laughing in bed with rain falling outside open windows, whispered secrets in the dark, sharing wine directly from the bottle, feeding each other bread with their fingertips.

Him asking her to marry him, her saying yes.

Her throwing it all away for reasons that now seemed meaningless.

“We should go, Jacques. We’re running late. Miranda's already at the restaurant.” A stick-like man with shaggy brown hair and black-framed eye glasses appeared at the top of the stairs.

She stood on the bottom step, one foot poised to ascend, her hand on the railing and blocking the way. She clutched the bag to her side and turned to flee.

“Jess?” The quiet question stopped her descent. “Jessica Moriarty?”

She gripped the railing and looked up at him.

Jacques stood at the top of the stairs, blond hair falling across his forehead and skimming his ears, different from the picture on display, more like it had been when they'd known one another, shaggy and disheveled. Emerald eyes snapped with fire as his gaze raked over her from head to foot. A cobalt blue shirt had been stuffed into black jeans, half in the waistband and half out as if he simply didn’t give a damn. He’d rolled the sleeves to his elbows, exposing tanned forearms, and a leather bracelet twisted around his left wrist. He walked toward her like a predator who’d cornered his prey. Slowly...surely. Sexuality oozed from his pores with every step he took.

She stepped back and swallowed the rush of saliva that flooded her mouth.

He stopped two stairs above her. “Running away from me again?”

 

***

Excerpt Two (Adult Content)

 

He stalked toward her until her back collided with her easel. His hands gripped the top of the canvas, arms pinned her where she stood. “I haven’t wanted to remember you in a very long time.”
“I suppose not.”
“But I have.”
“Me, too.”
“Are you happy?”
“What do you mean?” She folded her arms across her chest.
“Did you make the right choice? Leaving me? Leaving our life together? Tell me you’re happy and I’ll walk out of your life forever.”
“What does it matter? I can’t undo it.”
“Why is it a difficult question for you to answer? Why can’t you tell me that you have no regrets? I want to hear it.”
“Of course I have regrets, but so what? What good does that do us?”
“That’s why I came here tonight, to see…”
“See what? I’ve done what I said I would do.” Pride forced her head high. “I’m up for associate partner at my firm. I’m a good—no, great—architect. We both succeeded without each other. Good for us.”
“You’re lying. You’re not happy.” His hand framed the side of her face, forcing her to look at him. “I see it in your face. It’s like you’ve died. You're living in the past, which tells me you're not that thrilled with the present.”
“When did you get so mean?” Too tired to fight, tears blurred her eyes. “Get out. Enough insults for one night. Just go.”
“Why are you still wearing my ring?” His voice was low and powerful in the small room.
“Why do you?”
“My ring.” Dark blond hair covered his left eye when he bent forward, only a breath away from her face. “Why are you wearing it? Does it mean anything to you or do you simply think it’s pretty?”
“Please go.” She flattened her hands against his chest, but wished she hadn’t. The feel of his hard body beneath her hands liquefied her bones.
He slammed his hand against the canvas, knocking it to the floor behind her. “You just left. One day we’re living together, talking about creating a future, and then you walked away without
ever looking back.”
“I look back in my own way. Often, too often, I need to grow up like you said.” Her lungs deflated like air from a balloon. Breathing ceased. I needed to come back here to—”
“To be safe? To do the right thing?” He had her backed against the easel. “I thought you would at least stay in touch with me, the man you supposedly loved, the man you said
you wanted to marry, the man you said you needed…but you disappeared.”
“You had my address. I didn’t disappear.”
“You let me go without a word. Until today, I hadn’t heard from you in years, yet here you are wearing my ring.”
“I said I was sorry.” Every inch of her quaked with restrained emotion. “Leave now. Go. Good luck with your exhibit, the workshop, with your life, all of it. Just get the hell out of my house.”
“Do you know why I brought your address with me? Do you?”
“You wanted to tell me off, right? That’s why you came here, to hurt me.”
“I wanted to show you how much I don’t care.”
“Doesn’t that show me how much you really do care?” She lifted her chin, determined not to cry.
A fraction of an inch separated their bodies. She dragged her gaze over the opened buttons of his shirt, over his neck, over his lips until resting on the deep green of his eyes. Damn, the man rocked the word 'sexy'.
Boldness replaced caution.
Standing on tiptoes, she smoothed her hands along the front of his chest. Touching him again was like coming home from a long, exhausting journey.
He shook his head once as if trying to clear his mind. Only once. He stared at her lips. His hands curled around her forearms, but he didn’t push her away.
“Kiss me,” she whispered against his mouth.
“No,” he whispered as his hands slid up her arms before cupping the back of head.
"I dare you."
"Never."
"I know you want to."
"I don't."
"Now who's the liar?" she asked, her teeth tugging at his lower lip.
Their mouths met in a kiss that melted her skin like candle wax, turning them into one being, one entity consumed by desire. To hell with restraint and regret. She needed this, needed him, here and now.
Passion overrode all other thought or senses. Her hands stroked his back, kneading and searching. Every sense was alive with his touch, with his kiss. The need for him was an ache that burned deep. Hot. Necessary. Urgent. Primal
God, she had missed this, missed him.
He ripped her tank top in two and tossed the material aside.
His hands squeezed her breasts while his mouth devoured hers.
She yanked his shirt free from his jeans and shoved it high on his chest, needing his skin against hers more than she'd ever needed anything in life. Clothes fell away, bread crushed beneath their bodies, wine spilled from an overturned bottle at their feet.
They fell against the easel, knocking the canvas and paint in every direction. A tangle of limbs, they made eye contact for a moment, chests heaving, breathing labored.
"This is wrong," he muttered against her skin.
"Right. Always right with us." She sank her fingernails into his shoulders.
"What the lady wants, the lady gets," he said, a predatory gleam in his eyes.
His hands worked at pushing her yoga pants over her hips while his mouth claimed her breast.
She looped her toes in the waistband of his underwear and yanked them over his thighs. Her hands sought his erection while her back arched with every stroke of his hands and every lick of his tongue.
He ground himself inside her with the intensity of repressed rage. Her legs wrapped around his hips, holding him as close as possible as he plunged deep inside her.
Sex had never been tame with him, but this was animalistic. This was raw. Teeth sank into skin. Nails scraped against each other's bodies. They rolled together, locked as one being. Streaks of yellow and red paint lined their faces, stuck in their hair, no one cared.
Waves of pleasure rolled through her veins like a tsunami until all strength left her body. She laughed, breathless, as her mouth sought his again in a kiss filled with satisfaction and surprise.
"Is this what you meant by a do-over?" He shoved his hands through her hair, palms framing her face, and stared into her eyes. His chest rose and fell against hers.
"Not exactly, but it'll do," she whispered, still out of breath, heartbeat slamming like a caged bird's wings inside her chest.
His mouth sucked on her lower lip, tongue teased hers. "I don't know what to do with you, Jessica Moriarty."
"You've always known exactly what to do with me, Jacques Sinclair." She repeated the words they'd always said to one another. She dipped her finger into the wet yellow paint on the canvas beneath his head before smearing it across his chin and over his mouth.
He grabbed her hand, linked his fingers with hers and stared into her eyes. Laughter faded. “This shouldn't have happened. I lost control, I always lose control around you.”
He rolled away and stared at the ceiling. Then he stood and pulled a piece of cheese from where it had stuck to his shoulder. Without looking at her, he dressed.
Rattled from the sex and his reaction, she stumbled to standing, grabbed the blanket from the sofa and wrapped it around herself. Man, she was on a roll today with fucking up her life.
He walked down the stairs without saying a word.
She returned to the kitchen to find him still waiting. She'd hoped he'd gone. Back against the wall, he finished buttoning his shirt. He hadn't bothered to wipe the streaks of paint from his face and hair; then again, neither had she. When he lifted his gaze to hers, he looked agonized.
"I didn't intend on that. I should go," he said.
“Stay. Don't go. Maybe we should talk or something.”
She wanted to scream, stomp her foot like a child, fall to her knees …anything to make him stay.
“There is someone else, Jess. Life moved on without you.” His quiet words sliced her heart into a million pieces. “I came here for answers, to understand. I didn't intend to rip your clothes off. I only wanted to understand why you left me. That’s all.”
“And now you understand?”
“No.” He shook his head, a slight grin curving his lips. “But I accept that I will never understand.”
She rubbed the palm of her hand over her face. Of course he had someone else. She had discarded him like a used napkin.
“You're serious with this woman? What you said about the different women all the time was just to hurt me, right?”
“Yes to both questions.”
A chasm ripped through the room, creating a space larger than the ocean that had once separated them. She felt the loss of him again, more powerful, more poignant than before.
“I wish it wasn’t like this between us…”
“I’m still the same man you left in Italy. The reasons you left haven’t changed. I’m a gypsy at heart, never in one place longer than six months or so.” He looked at the matching ring on his finger and blew out a long breath.
“Please leave. Your girlfriend must be wondering what the hell you’re doing.” She hugged her arms across her chest and tapped her foot against the floor. “Please leave, Jacques.”
“Am I wrong? Are you happy? Tell me I’m wrong about you. Tell me that you love being an architect. Tell me that you honestly don’t regret leaving me.” With every word, his face mirrored the agony she felt.
“Tell me that you have no regrets, that you are happy with your life as it is now.”
“My life is damn near perfect.” She forced a smile. “Partnership is in sight, remember? Corner office here I come. I have everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s a fucking love fest.”
“It is time I let this go then.” With a quick movement, he pulled the ring from his finger and laid it on the back of the red chair.
She stared at the ring against the faded fabric. “Please don’t leave it. Like you said, it’s yours.”
“Keep it, throw it away, it no longer matters to me. Be well, bella.” Door open, he hesitated at the threshold and looked around the room before meeting her gaze again. Bella. The word hung in the air as they stared at one another, the language of Italy dancing in her memory and tugging at her heart.
Caro…” she whispered.
Without another look back, he closed the door behind him.
She listened to the fall of his footsteps on the stairs, the outside door opening and closing, and folded his ring into her palm. She pressed the closed fist against lips still swollen from his kiss. Silent tears streaked her face.
"What have I done?" Back against the door, she slid to the floor. The question she asked had no answer. Even she didn't know if she meant the past or the present; conflicting emotions meshed together in her brain like the various paint streaks staining her skin.
 
 
dancing barefoot tablet
But first a taste of the early reviews...
4 stars
via Avid Reader:
"I loved this
story.
It was refreshingly honest, brutally tragic, and at times lyrical in it's flow. Their connection was so intense that as I read it, I was like this absolutely cannot survive. Love this intense and in your face has a slow burn to it, and will torch everything in i's path until it is stamped out...There was nothing contrived about it. I felt like I was literally a fly on the wall and this was happening in reality and not fiction land. I liked them both, probably one of the best couples I have ever read."...read entire review http://goo.gl/R191Sa
5 stars via ChristophFischerBooks
"Conflicting emotions and insurmountable chemistry cause both of them to reassess the past, their current lives and priorities. Easton shows the magnetic and hypnotic effect of physical and emotional attraction very well and the gradual crumbling of outer facades and deep inner resolve. This is a romantic fantasy written in a convincing and heart warming manner and with enough complications thrown in to make for a very entertaining and gripping read."...read entire review http://goo.gl/R191Sa
5 stars via Sglas, Amazon reader review:
"Excitement, intrigue, twists and turns! Dancing Barefoot has it all. Very hard to put down." read entire review http://goo.gl/R191Sa
GET IT TODAY!!
Amazon: myBook.to/DB
Link to the prequel, In Between: an Italian love story, that is a permanent free read on the author blog (14 chapters total): http://goo.gl/T9XCOj
Tune in for more: