Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist-slash-contest

To celebrate my September 20th release of His Only Hope from Samhain Publishing, I'm giving away three naughty prize packs, filled with flavored body oil, massage oil, a play collar, and other goodies. Readers can earn points by (a) liking my Facebook page, (b) tweeting about the book (don't forget to add @skylarkade to the message!), (c) signing up for my quarterly newsletter (through the Facebook page or by sending an email to skylarkade@gmail.com), and (d) sending me proof of purchase for His Only Hope and/or Maison Domine (skylarkade@gmail.com). Winners will be selected and notified on Halloween.

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So I just finished watching Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist and I'm still trying to decide whether I liked it or not. Help me cure this terrible waffling!! Let me know if you liked it, hated it, agree, or disagree with the following pros and cons.

PRO:

1. Kat Dennings

2. New York City

3. Good story tension--I stayed engaged the whole movie.

4. Kat Dennings' lipstick--Laura Mercier lip stain in Mulberry. Yes, I am buying it tomorrow.

5. The sountrack.

CON:

1. Michael Cera. He's the same character in everything, and I just can't take him seriously.

2. The tight metro emo pants that all the guys wore. Tight pants on football players = hot. Tight NON-leather pants on skinny boys = not. Amirite?

3. Michael Cera. Sorry, he goes on here twice, I just can't see him as romantic hero material.

4. High schoolers getting it on in movies. I know its always been done, but it still squicks me out. They're just so...jailbait.

5. The plot somewhat relies on the characters driving around New York city, and not ONCE do they hit traffic.

If you've seen this movie, please leave your comments! If you haven't, for the sake of science, check it out and let me know what you think here, via email/Facebook/the twitter.

x0x0 

Skylar

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This time, he’s not giving her up without a fight.

The Maison Chronicles, Book 2

After two grueling years caring for her terminally ill mother, Hope O’Shea is eager to start fresh. Except her first interior-decorating job is for a popular BDSM club—part of her kinky past she misses, but had to leave behind.

Worse, she somehow ends up in the arms of her ex-Dom, Gabriel Cassidy. The one man who could strip her emotions bare, so bare that rather than reveal her painful history, she ran.

Gabriel never understood why Hope left without even a goodbye. Determined to get answers, he entices her to Maison Domine for a weekend on the promise of meeting the owner for another decorating job. Except being with her again reminds him why he loved her in the first place—and why she shouldn’t trust him as her Dom.

As their attraction reignites, Hope is transported back to the sub-space bliss she felt only with Gabe. Then a nightmare from her past shows up at the club, and with no other safe place to turn, she has no choice but to trust Gabe with her shame. Leaving Gabe with a devastating choice—reveal his last secret…or lose his Hope.

Product Warnings: This book contains a feisty interior decorator, a dominating leather worker, heart-wrenching sex and redemption.

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Hope O’Shea thought she’d never set foot in The Sunset Strip ever again. She’d been out of the scene for two years, which had been good for her. She shivered, remembering the handful of times she’d come here.
On her return to LA, Melina, the Mistress who owned the popular BDSM nightclub, contacted her to redesign the whole place. Dammit, the things she did for old friends and new clients.

This Saturday night, like most, the club’s otherwise inconspicuous entrance saw an overwhelming amount of foot traffic. Housed in a ’50s-era office building, it was impossible to guess what the dark brick walls held, so long as one ignored the interesting mix of characters entering and exiting.

Hope shook her head, exorcising thoughts of the past. Strands of newly cut and dyed auburn hair flew into her eyes, and she brushed them away. She missed the convenience of ponytails, but her stylist assured her the shorter hair was “chic and professional”.

“It’s now or never, Hope.” She nodded at her reflection in the visor mirror and used the lure of a giant paycheck to shore up her courage before leaving the safety of her SUV.

Her spike heels, three inches high and fire-truck red, clicked on the pavement from the large parking lot across the street to the club entrance. Clammy hands smoothed invisible wrinkles out of her new black pantsuit. It wasn’t proper scene attire, but it would have to do, because even if her old corsets and lingerie hadn’t been too big on her, she wouldn’t have worn something seductive for a business meeting.

The red French doors loomed ahead and an invisible weight settled on her chest. Despite her work with a therapist and her progress, panic attacks still loomed like storm clouds.

Too tense, that was her. She poured herself into work, eschewing any distractions in order to build her client list. Maybe once she had her business up and running she could try to find vanilla recreations.

But no more BDSM. No more vulnerability.

She eyed the club and appreciated the irony. Myriad outlets for her anxiety could be hers for the night, if only she asked.

As nice as one night of submission might be, it would be a step backward. It would be her relying on someone other than herself.

One of Melina’s security team, decked out in leather pants and black T-shirt, opened the door for her. A quick thanks and she was inside, heading down the short hall to the main office. She wanted to get this over with as soon as possible, before temptation overruled her better sense.

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