Hey, it's time for another release!

So I’ve been riding this last Samhain release (One Wicked Night) on quite a bit of a high! I’m so thrilled with the reviews and emails I’ve gotten from readers, bloggers, and reviewers.

But hey – I think it’s time for another release! Rule of Three is out next week (February 14). 

These two books are similar in many ways. They’re both ménage à trois stories featuring two men and a woman. One of the men is a “bad boy”. The woman in each story is a “good girl”. Both stories are extremely emotional and very hot. I won’t tell you if they both have the same kind of ending—you have to read them to find THAT out!

But they’re very different, too. In One Wicked Night, the two men are in a relationship (of sorts) at the beginning of the story, which expands to include a woman. In Rule of Three, Chris and Kassidy are a couple. They’ve just moved in together and are deeply in love, and then another man appears in their life.

In One Wicked Night, most of the journey of self-discovery is undergone by Tyler and Kaelin. Nick is there, solid, dependable and steady for both of them, although he has his own moment of having to face his true feelings.

But in Rule of Three, all three characters have some learning to do about themselves. Kassidy has always been the good girl—the good daughter, the good sister, the good girlfriend. Suddenly...she’s being very bad. Dag is a bad boy on the surface who doesn’t commit and doesn’t really feel worthy of being loved. Suddenly he’s involved with not just one person, but two. And Chris...probably has the most difficult journey of all.

Some ménage à trois stories are about a one-time fling that’s hot and exciting. Some are about a long-term ménage à trois relationship. That can’t be easy. It’s a hot fantasy, sure, but realistically, there are very real obstacles to making something like that work. All romances are about overcoming obstacles to find that HEA, but in a ménage story the obstacles can be even greater because of it being a complicated threesome.

Come visit me at the Smutketeers blog today – I’m sharing more about the writing of Rule of Three - AND the “rule of three” in writing (!!) with some sexy little snippets from the book. And I’m giving away an ARC of Rule of Three to one commenter! You know you want it!

Release of Restraining the Receptionist

I recently got asked the question: which of my characters is my favorite? My mother used to face this same question from me and my three siblings. She always answered that she couldn’t possibly choose, that she loved us all equally. Each of us kids, in our secret hearts, believed she loved us the best, and just didn’t want to hurt the others’ feelings. After all, mothers aren’t supposed to pick one child to love the most. But what about authors? Can we pick one character over the others? Aren’t we supposed to love them all?

Well, of course … but I’m here to admit that I do have a favorite character. I don’t want to hurt anyone else’s feelings, so please, Characters from My Other Books, put your fingers in your ears and say lalalala...

Dana Arthur, resident of Low-Life, Long Island, receptionist of the firm Cowell & Dirk, heroine of Training the Receptionist and Restraining the Receptionist, out tomorrow, is my secret favorite. It’s a good thing I gave birth to her only in a metaphorical sense. If she were my child, she’d probably drive me crazy. She’s sassy, street-savvy, addicted to tattoos, has a problem with authority, not much regard for rules, and a spirit of adventure that gets her into trouble, especially when it comes to her two sexy bosses, Simon Dirk and Ethan Cowell.

Dana is such fun to write – I love every moment I spend on my Receptionist books. She’s daring, unafraid to test her own limits if it will bring her pleasure. She’s a survivor who doesn’t expect anything to be handed to her – but looks at the world with her own wry, sarcastically offkilter way.

Restraining the Receptionist is out tomorrow, but you can pre-order it here at the Samhain site or … you can leave a comment and be entered into a drawing for a copy in the format of your choice! In the meantime, here’s the blurb and an adult-ish excerpt. Enjoy!

Every deal has a loophole.

Restraining the Receptionist

© 2011 Juniper Bell

…the Receptionist, Book 2

Dana Arthur’s new job with the firm of Cowell & Dirk is going well. Translation: the occasionally kinky ménage with her two bosses, Ethan and Simon, has been several months of politically incorrect bliss.

Except the relationship feels unbalanced. While Ethan is the undisputed master, the partners’ iron-clad agreement stipulates that Simon must be present as she performs her “duties”. And she senses there’s a subtle, powerful tug-of-war developing for more than just her body.

Simon had agreed to share the firm’s fiery, sensually daring receptionist…to a point. With Simon out of town, Ethan plans a feast of erotic temptations designed to have Dana begging him to break the deal. He didn’t realize his heart would be a casualty.

Once she surrenders to his wicked demands, Dana realizes there’s no going back. It’s time for a three-way renegotiation…this time, all or nothing.

Warning: NSFW!! Do Not Try This at Your Job. Contains highly inappropriate workplace behavior including m/f/m, m/m, bondage, creative use of office space and a high-stakes trip to Atlantic City.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Restraining the Receptionist:

My unpredictable number one boss showed up in a new mood the next day. I’d never seen him light-hearted before. Now that I had an idea about his history, not a big surprise. But that’s exactly how he seemed when he breezed into the office. He wore casual clothes, blue jeans and a light blue open-collared shirt that made his eyes look like summer without the smog.

“I’ve got no pesky clients today, luv,” he told me, without pausing by my desk to check my outfit, which he usually did. “I’d like you to order us a picnic lunch.”

“Huh?”

“Picnic. You have those in America, right? Or are they banned in the great state of New York?”

“We have them, but you can’t even spread out a blanket without kicking aside a stray used needle or two.” As soon as I said it I remembered the heroin. “I…I’m sorry,” I stammered.

But my thoughtless reference didn’t make him miss a beat. “A little local color will add to the experience, I’m sure. Handle the details and we’ll go around noon.”

Did a picnic violate the terms of our deal? Ethan and I would be doing something outside of work, just the two of us, something intimate. Almost like a date. But he hadn’t suggested anything physical. It was lunch. We both had to eat, right? It seemed perfectly harmless.

Since I was working from the company petty cash fund, I called up the neighborhood yuppie café where they served giant organic sandwiches. On my budget, I would have gone for a Subway footlong. But Ethan would no doubt demand something better.

We held our picnic on a concrete bench in a sweltering park a few blocks away from the office. Dog walkers and stroller-pushers, listless from the heat, wandered by now and then, but otherwise we were alone. The humid heat pressed on us like a steam iron. My hair stuck to my cheeks as I bit into my upscale sandwich.

Ethan didn’t comment on the slabs of free-range chicken that had probably been hand-raised and read bedtime stories before being slaughtered and inserted into a sandwich. He did remove the unruly mound of bean sprouts and toss it to a nearby pigeon. The pigeon pecked at the stuff, clucked scornfully and waddled the other direction.

I couldn’t help giggling at Ethan’s wounded expression. “I wouldn’t take it personally,” I told him. “He’s a New York pigeon. He’s used to eating dog crap.”

He chuckled. “Have you lived here your whole life, Dana?”

The sheer ordinariness of the question unnerved me. “Well, except for that semester abroad in Paris, and the year I spent in Fiji with the Peace Corps. I’m joking,” I added, when he didn’t laugh.

“Oh. Well, I’m certainly familiar with your sense of humor, but I confess I don’t understand the joke. You could have done those things.”

I let out a spurt of laughter that startled the pigeon. “I had other things to do.”

“Like what?”

“Like dodge my father’s fists after a drinking binge.”

“Ah.” Ethan didn’t show sympathy or disapproval or anything else. He chewed on his stack of multi-grain goodness. “And your mother?”

“No clue. My father always said she ran away, but for all I know he has her body dismembered in a freezer somewhere.”

That earned me a sharp taste of Blue Fury.

“I’m kidding. I have a dark sense of humor. My father’s not that bad. And my stepmother would have gone for poison instead.”

A crack of laughter from Ethan. “You really are something, you know that? You fascinate me.”

I filled my mouth with sandwich so I didn’t have to answer that. I was very much afraid the fascination was mutual. We settled into a munching, digesting kind of silence. He had one ankle crossed over the opposite knee, and occasionally his bent leg would brush against mine. Every time it happened, a little jolt of awareness zinged straight to my groin. Did he know it was happening? Was he doing it deliberately?

“Your knee keeps touching me.”

“Does it?” He didn’t move away.

“That’s against the rules.”

“So sorry.” But he didn’t look sorry. He looked entirely unconcerned, even though he moved his knee away. “One of these days we must write these rules down. For instance, is all physical contact forbidden while Simon is away, or only that of a sexual nature?”

Lord, why did he have to say “sexual” with that spark in his eyes and that slant of his eyebrow? It wasn’t fair, damn it.

“Another example. I’ve been longing to tell you how delicious you look today and how the shadow of your nipples through the fabric of your blouse keeps drawing my eyes. But is verbal praise also off-limits, since I’d be unable to keep it G-rated, I’m afraid?”

“You can’t see my nipples through my blouse!” I looked down to make sure.

“Oh, yes, I can. I know what they’re doing right now. They’re just beginning to stir to life. You’re probably feeling a pleasant prickling as they become engorged. I’ve realized something about you, you know. The sound of my voice has a powerful effect on you.”

So right he was. I tried to block out his voice. Might as well try to stop the Hudson River.

“In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if I could bring you to orgasm just with my voice. I wouldn’t have to touch you at all. All I’d have to do is tell you what I wanted to do to you. I’d tell you how much I want to bend you over this bench and take you in the open air. Or how much I’d like to tie you to that birch tree over there, open your blouse and bring you to orgasm with my fist up your cunt. Sure, someone might see. For instance, those three fellows playing Frisbee over there. It’s entirely possible they’d start to notice when I tied your hands behind the tree and ripped off your blouse. Maybe they’d even come running to your rescue.”

His gravelly voice hypnotized me so I could practically picture the scene. My body melted into a shivery puddle of craving.

“And then, of course, I’d have no choice but to invite them to join us, either as witnesses or participants. They look like red-blooded, able-bodied, clean-cut gentlemen, nothing to fear. I’d have to convince them you were willing. More than willing. Eager. I’d have to show them how wet you already were, just from having your breasts exposed. You like being exposed, don’t you?”

“Stop,” I murmured. This was going into an area we’d never touched. Other men had had no place in our games so far.

As soon as I told him to stop, he did. And as soon as he did, I wanted him to start again. After all, what was the harm? He was going there in imagination only.

“Well…” I cleared my throat. “Would you let them touch my breasts?”

“I’d give them a chance, see how they behaved. Not just anyone gets to touch my Dana. Our Dana, I should say.”

I winced at the reminder of the absent Simon. But I was too caught up in Ethan’s hypothetical scenario to be bothered for long.

“Our Dana’s luscious nipples deserve nothing other than sweet tender care. Long, lingering suckles. Perhaps a man to each nipple, and one to jerk himself off as he watches. That should get you started, I’d say. You’d be making those adorable little whimpering sounds. But perhaps I’d begin to sense that you want more, that you need the grip of cold metal on your flesh.”

The image made my belly clench with need. My nipples were as hard as the bench we sat on. I thought I would suffocate if this went on much longer. I turned a pleading look on him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of nipple clamps.

This was way over the line, totally against our rules, but I banished that thought from my mind. I nodded, biting my lip. I didn’t care who watched as he reached inside my blouse and fastened the silver clips to my nipples. The sweet pain of it made me sag against him and sigh. Exquisite relief flooded me. I leaned against him as if he were a boulder. When I looked down, the clips were clearly visible through my blouse. But I didn’t care. Ethan would take care of me.

Thanks for celebrating Release Day with me one day early!

Juniper

Dark Obsession: Now in PRINT!

A few weeks ago Syd and Kate held down the fort, so to speak, while the rest of us were living it up at RT. Today I'm repaying the favor (in part, anyway *g*) by posting about Sydney's new print release.

Dark Obsession is the fourth book in the Shadow Destroyers series. If you take your paranormal romantic suspense red hot and fast-paced, this is the series for you! A kick-ass, demon slaying heroine. A lust-demon-initiated hero. What's not to like?

Scorching desire…fatal consequences.

Shadow Destroyers, Book 4

Demon slayer Rae McAvoy refuses to let anything stand between her and getting the job done. Especially her ex. Loving Parker nearly destroyed her, and if partnering with him one last time means he’ll be reassigned and out of her life for good, bring it on.

If Parker was the only threat to her heart, tracking down one rogue scientist would be a snap. Except the scientist in question is Rae’s father, and his experiments are hitting much too close to home.
Parker Walsh hasn’t forgotten the passion that once burned between them, and he’s determined to remind Rae every chance he gets. But giving in to more than just lust could mean surrendering to the darkness inside him—the same darkness that once drove her away.

Riding the edge of their rising desire pushes them to the breaking point, until an explosion of passion raises the stakes even higher. Especially when long-buried secrets force them to break the last links to their past—or else be consumed by an obsession so dark it could tear them apart for good.

Warning: Contains a fierce battle of wills between reunited lovers, explosive sexual tension, sarcasm, gritty demon-slaying violence, scorching sex and a love worth fighting for.

Excerpt:

It all came down to a towel.

Hundreds of hours logged in the training room until her muscles ached from exhaustion, dozens of injuries—some that had come close to killing her—countless demons tracked and slayed, and Rae McAvoy was about to be done-in by a white terry cloth towel.

More precisely, the white terry cloth draped precariously around her ex’s waist.

The second she stepped off the elevator and spotted Parker Walsh leaning against the wall next to her office, in nothing but a towel, she gave serious thought to turning around and hitting the close button on the elevator panel.

Need—hot and sharp and all kinds of trouble—buzzed through her veins. For about ten seconds, anyway, then she was back in control, striding down the hall toward him as though she couldn’t care less what he wore. Or didn’t wear, for that matter, even if she had to fight to keep her gaze locked on his face.

Telling herself not to look was a lot like not reaching for a weapon when she crossed paths with a Shadow Demon—it just wasn’t in her, not where Parker was concerned. She might be determined to keep things professional between them, but that didn’t make her blind.

Parker had a good five inches on her in height, not to mention the solid wall of muscle that was just inches away. Smooth, hot muscle she’d been thinking about running her fingers down for weeks. Years, if she counted the time between their rough breakup and his reassignment to her field office seven weeks ago.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t changed nearly enough over the years. He wore his dark brown hair in the same careless style—just long enough to run his fingers through when he was frustrated and still hide the scar on his forehead she’d given him when they’d met.

His smile still carried that playful, I-could-eat-you-up edge she’d found increasingly difficult to ignore lately. And those deep, earthy green eyes that promised night after night of long, hot—

No. No way was she going there today.

Parker’s size, his overwhelming nearness, ultimately meant nothing to her. She’d worked too hard to let anything like personal history get in the way of taking down the enemy. He might not be an emotion-hungry demon, but that didn’t make Parker her ally either.

Not when he’d broken her heart.

Parker’s grin widened as she approached, and after seven weeks of him shadowing her every step, tracking her every move, watching her every breath, both her patience and her willpower were wearing thin. That arrogant I-know-I’m-getting-to-you smile of his really had to go.

Today worked for her.

Giving him her best bored look, she opened her office door. “Funny, I don’t remember any memos about a change in acceptable dress code. Do you?”

She directed the last part to Drew Reid as he stepped into the hall at that exact moment.

Knowing Drew, his timing likely hadn’t been a coincidence. He carried the same gene she and Parker did, one that allowed a demon’s dakorum, its essence, to mutate their DNA, giving them the same abilities as the demon that attacked them. With his acutely heightened senses, thanks to the stealth demon that initiated him, he’d probably heard her the second she’d stepped off the elevator and wanted to watch the show.

She might have been annoyed at the reminder that the friction between her and Parker was the hottest gossip to hit the Shadow Destroyer water cooler scene, if she wasn’t so relieved she had an excuse to avoid looking at Parker’s solid chest.

Any excuse would do, even if it meant that whatever Drew witnessed would inevitably be passed along to the rest of her team. Seemed like the only thing Rae could count on these days were demons running loose on her home turf and her agents wasting time speculating on her sex life.

Hopefully the former would keep the other Destroyers—trained demon slayers whose DNA had also been mutated during a demon encounter—from dwelling on any new tidbit for long.

Drew rocked back on his heels, shooting a knowing look between her and Parker. Probably the same look she’d been firing his way a month ago when he’d gotten involved with another agent’s sister.

“Awkward,” Drew finally mumbled, then turned and strolled down the hall as though he wasn’t chomping at the bit to report the latest to the rest of the team the first chance he got.

As much as she wanted to glare after Drew and order him into her office—surely he’d screwed up something lately—she squared her shoulders and sailed straight past Parker.

Her fleeting hope that he’d go back to his office—or better yet, to the personal quarters down the hall that he’d made his temporary home—fizzled and died when he trailed after her. At least he left the door open. Knowing him, he did it to prove he didn’t need to box her in to intimidate her.

She slid behind the desk and accessed her e-mail to mask just how much he did. She’d long ago given up on figuring out why being outnumbered by demons with only chopsticks to defend herself didn’t feel half as threatening as being in the same room as Parker.

She slanted him a quick look, noticing his bare feet. God, even the man’s toes were sexy.

“There’s no hot water in my quarters, Rae.”

“So you didn’t get my e-mail about the scheduled maintenance work for the next week or two?” Longer if she could swing it.

“There’s hot water in the locker room.”

“Weird how all that plumbing stuff works.”

He flattened his palms on her desk. “Playing games won’t get you what you want.”

A rush of heat worked up from her toes, warming her stomach before she forced herself to ignore the distracting sensation. He’d need to do more than flex a few pheromones to get her to back off.

Since Parker had been initiated by a lust demon, his mutated DNA left him with a particular skill set that took “weak in the knees” to a whole new level. But today her intimate knowledge of how easily he attracted other people, even when he wasn’t trying—unlike now—left her with the advantage.

Expose someone to something long enough and they learned to build up a tolerance to it.

But since he deserved a little credit for the effort, she only arched a brow instead of rolling her eyes. “And what is it that you think I want?”

A seductive smile caught his mouth, reminding her of how she’d ended up in his bed to begin with. Judging by the flare of heat in his eyes, he knew exactly what she was thinking about. Hard not to when the man oozed raw, earthy sex from top to bottom and everywhere in between.

“If you’re not comfortable here, there’s always a hotel.” She refused to consider his relocation permanent. She’d been hanging on by a thread for the last few days. One tiny, stretched-taut thread. She needed him out from under her feet and wasn’t above cheating to do it.

“If you want to get rid of me you’re going to have to get a lot more creative.”

Rae shrugged. “Seeing as you’re due for reassignment any day now, what would be the point?” Aside from her personal satisfaction, of course.

His cocky grin widened, a sliver of menace creeping in. Without a word he turned and left the room, the flimsy towel doing nothing to detract from the rugged determination in each stride.

Damn it, he knew something.

Buy it Here

Old Sins, Long Shadows: New Release

There were times while I was writing this book when I wondered if it would ever see the light of day. You might think, after you've gotten a few books under your belt, that writing would become routine. Uh...no. That's not what happens. At least not all the time. Definitely not with this book.

True, I was a little preoccupied during some of that time. Let's see, there was the moving, the writing, the re-writing, the editing (all for other books, you understand) more re-writing, promoting, traveling, another move, not to mention a whole host of family related mini-crises...

So, yeah, maybe it's not such a surprise this took so long to finish. But I think the real issue here was my need to do justice to these characters. Sometimes characters work their way so deeply into your heart that it's almost paralyzing. There's the need to make their scenes as perfect as possible--to the point where you go over and over the same pages so many times you could recite them in your sleep. There's the fear that, no matter how much you fuss with it, you still won't be able to pull it off. There's the knowledge that, no matter what you do, there are always going to be people who just don't like it. Even people who loved the first book in the series--and, right after your characters, those are the last people you want to disappoint! 

Eventually, however, you reach this point where I am now. Old Sins, Long Shadows is finally off my hands, out the door and on its own. And while I rarely subscribe to the "books are authors' babies" theory, I have to admit my emotions are not altogether different than they were the morning my son went off to kindergarten for the very first time. Just like then, I suspect I'll be holding my breath for most of the day.

Living forever is hard, but loving forever? That’s damn near impossible.

Children of Night, Book 2

1856, New York City. Moments after Conrad Quintano drives his life-mate away, heartache and guilt descend around his heart like a pall. Convinced that Damian’s hatred is as permanent as the scars Conrad has inflicted on him, Conrad steels himself for an eternity of emotional torture.

Present day, San Francisco. For the sake of vampire twins Marc and Julie Fischer, Conrad and Damian present a united parental front. In reality, their truce is a sham. Conrad, weakened by his recent ordeal, struggles against the urge to bring his mate back to his bed. And Damian misinterprets Conrad’s explosive temper as proof their relationship is irreparably broken.

When an old enemy’s quest to create a dangerous new breed of vampire threatens the twins’ lives—and the precarious state of vampire peace—it’s imperative the estranged lovers put the past behind them. Or the shadows of the past will tear apart everything they hold dear.

Warning: This book may not be suitable for readers with an aversion to emotionally damaged vampire heroes. Caution is advised if you have experienced prior sensitivity to any of the following: costume parties, fencing lessons, interspecies, inter-generational or intra-gender dating, occasional mild violence, and/or recreational blood-drinking. 

Excerpt:  

Ah, there you are!” Damian swept into the kitchen, startling Conrad, who was seated at the table. “Good. I’ve been looking for you.”

Conrad fumbled the PVC blood bag he was holding, nearly dropping it. He bit back an oath and glanced up, scowling. Damian was dressed as though he’d just come from the gym, and all in black like a damn cliché. His dark hair was pulled away from his face and the scent of exertion still clung to his skin. Conrad’s fingers clenched more tightly around the bag in his hand. His heart pounded with a savage rhythm. Of all the people he could not bear to be this close to right now, with his hunger running rampant and his self-control at low ebb, Damian undoubtedly topped the list.

“What do you want?” he growled, frustrated by his inability to tame the simmering need that even now was urging him to grab Damian by the throat, slam him against the nearest surface, bury his fangs in his neck and his cock in his ass and reclaim what was his. He buried his fangs in the bag instead and felt his gut heave at the faint chemical taste.

It tasted wrong. It was always going to taste wrong. And it was never going to be enough to satisfy either his hunger or his thirst.

“I need to talk to you about something.” Seemingly oblivious to Conrad’s foul mood, Damian pulled out a chair and seated himself. He was close enough to Conrad they could have clasped hands on the tabletop had either of them been so inclined. Close enough that they might speak softly to each other and not be overheard. Entirely. Too. Close.

“Very well then. Talk.” Forcing himself not to recoil, Conrad swallowed another mouthful. Another tremor wracked his frame. He tried not to imagine the pitiful picture he must be presenting. He would survive it. His pride had taken worse hits than this over the centuries.

Damian made no answer. Conrad glanced impatiently at him. “Well?”

Damian waved a hand at the bags heaped on the table. “What are you doing here with all of this?”

It was so stupid a question Conrad refused to even dignify it with an answer. “Is that really what you came down here to talk to me about? I would have thought you’d have better things to do with your time.” He drained the pouch in his hand, tossed it aside and was reaching for another when Damian put out a hand to stop him.

“Espere,” he said. “Querido, wait.” His fingers closed on Conrad’s wrist and time stalled.

A low growl rose from Conrad’s throat as he stared, transfixed, at the hand on his arm. His control began to slip. Furious, he lifted his gaze to Damian’s face and the hand was hurriedly withdrawn, but Conrad’s skin still burned from the touch. With his eyes locked on Damian’s, daring him to try and interfere again, he picked up a new bag and deliberately sank his teeth into the plastic.

Damian’s nostrils flared. “Honestly, if this is all you’ve been eating, it’s no wonder you’ve yet to regain your full strength. You need fresh food, Conrad. Living food. Shall I find you some?”

Conrad sighed. He knew exactly what he needed and didn’t need, as well as what he could and could not have. He drained the second bag and reached for a third, forcing himself to speak calmly. “No, this is not all I’m eating. But, this early in the day… I fear I do not always find myself in the proper frame of mind to attempt anything else.”

He toyed with the unappetizing bag while he considered his options, coming quickly to the same conclusion he’d already drawn. There were none. By later this evening the edge of his hunger would be blunted. The worst of his venom would have been reabsorbed. He would have more choices. Until then, no matter how much he wished to feed from the living, he would not do it. He couldn’t take the chance of damaging one of the staff. That would only cause trouble, start rumors and end badly. As for attempting to take nourishment from one of his own… Appealing though the thought of it was, as an option it was even less acceptable.

His gaze following his thoughts, he cast a glance in Damian’s direction. His eyes cut to the scarf knotted at Damian’s throat. Anguish flared. Did Damian mean for it to serve as a constant reminder to him of the injuries it covered—injuries Conrad himself had inflicted—or was that just a happy accident?

He forced his gaze back to Damian’s face and inquired coldly, “You weren’t by any chance thinking of offering yourself for the purpose of slaking my thirst, were you?” As he’d expected, Damian’s face blanched. One hand crept protectively toward his neck. Conrad sneered, cruelly amused by the sudden increase in the tempo of Damian’s pulse. “No. Not such a pleasant thought, is it?”

Damian swallowed hard. He placed both hands on the table and deliberately folded them together. His face impassive, he met Conrad’s eyes with a steady gaze. “You still aren’t sleeping well, are you? Is it the nightmares again?”

Above all else, Conrad hated that Damian should know him so well. That he could so unerringly pinpoint the exact location of every weakness, every fault line, every flaw. “Yes.”

“What can I do to help?”

Conrad sighed. “You can tell me whatever it is you came here to talk to me about and then you can leave me to finish my meal in peace.”

Buy it Here 

Growing Stones

Have you ever thought to yourself, that’ll never happen to me? I thought that once, but then I found myself in the ER with a kidney stone. I’ve listened to others talk about it. I’ve heard the news of my brother, my sister and my husband’s brothers suffering from the ailment a time or two…or more, but I never knew the word “suffering” until now.

In mid-March, while sitting in my day-job’s office, a tightness had started in my back and side. I’d thought I was having a muscle spasm. By the time I’d left work, the pain had increased. When early evening had rolled around, I’d wanted someone to hit me over the head with a two-by-four.

After an evening visit to an Immediate Care Center, then a visit to my local ER two days later, both of which dismissed it as a UTI and sent me home with antibiotics, I’d finally received a referral for a scan.

And what do you know…a lodged kidney stone.

Then the adventure truly began.

There are several things I’d learned during the adventure. The first had been that Stadol is the bomb! That being said, let’s move on to the second one.

A lot of conversations go on in the ER, and it seems sitting behind a curtain make sthe voices louder.

One particular “ER mate” had proven rather comical. She had a habit of clearing her throat, which to me had sounded more like hawking a loogie. Though the sound had turned my stomach, it evidentially had no affect on the soundee.

The woman had continuously talked about food, whether it was crispy fried potatoes or chocolate. Her “there’s a rumbly in my tummy” had almost made me laugh out loud. The bed busting fart she’d emitted had managed to break my restraint.

My humor had quickly ebated when a nurse pushed aside the curtain and entered my little sterilized domain with the unsettling news she had to obtain a lean urine sample via a quick cath. Little did I know it takes three nurses to achieve such a task, especially when the first nurse had failed to operate the contraption correctly. All was well when the task was completed, and the three went on their way.

I’d finally arrived at my private suite, which had been just big enough for the bed and a closet-size bathroom.

Speaking of bathrooms, I’d quickly discovered making the trip while maneuvering an IV pump wasn’t as easy as they make it look on television.

Another thing I’d learned was how little it takes to amuse the staff. Days before my self-imposed incarceration, I’d made a visit to the nail salon. My shiny blue nails with elegant white stripes lined with silver color and matching toe nails had incurred many a conversation. More than once the comment had been made that I didn’t look as though I belonged in the hospital, and I couldn’t have agreed with them more. There’d been a million other places I’d wished to have been.

While awaiting surgery, I’d found myself in the company of several vampire romance lovers, and of course I’d felt the need to tout my vampire romance series, The Watchers.

Stent in place, I’d been sent home to wait out the curing of a major infection before surgery to remove the stone.

Ever heard of a stent? It’s a wire that runs from your kidney to your bladder and feels as though you’ve got a coat hanger for a tampon. Not pleasant. Not pleasant at all.

You know, I do believe the surgical staff were in need of comic relief the day of my surgery. Before going under, comments on my, once again newly painted toenails which matched my fingernails filled the room. I shouldn’t have been surprised that while in recovery, I discovered one of the booties had disappeared, leaving exposed the nails which had amused the staff.

Another reason I say the staff must have been in rare form was the fact that a few days later I discovered a 4” piece of tape in a spot where I wouldn’t even pay someone to place and remove.

When I’d made the joke to my doctor as to how a 1” piece of tape should have sufficed, he’d laughed and referred to the tape on my leg to hold the string which was tied to the end of the stent to aid in removal.

My leg. Someone surely had not gotten the memo on that one, I thought as I recalled the “Ah! Kelly Clarkson” moment I’d had during remove of said tape.

Pulling the rip cord on the stent as the approved time had been the highlight of my adventure. It had meant I’d neared the end of the journey.

As I write this little ditty, I must say I’m feeling more and more like myself every day. And for that, I am truly grateful.

So, the next time you hear someone is suffering from a kidney stone attack, I hope you’ll remember my little tale on Growing Stones and offer your sympathy, because believe me, they deserve it.

D. (Diane) McEntire
www.dmcentire.com
The Watchers Series
Samhain Publishing

Skylar's Naughty Nine (just nine?)

I've had a great time getting to know the dirty little secrets of my fellow bloggers, and I'm thrilled it's my turn. I'll try to behave myself, but no promises here.

I'm a California girl at heart -- love the glitz and glamor of Los Angeles -- and I finally got to make it my home a handful of years ago. I'm with PG on this. I know you're jealous. Except for the smog. And the traffic. And the cost of living. And the fires. And the earthquakes. And the heat in summer. And the lack of seasons... shall I continue, because I know you're still jealous.

I'm one of our newbie writers, with my first release out from Samhain just over a month ago. Maison Domine came out as an e-book in September, but will be released in the print anthology Binding Ties this July (happy dance!).

With that intro out of the way, here goes nothing. Drum roll please for Skylar's naughty nine...

1. If you had to choose only one form of chocolate for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Gawd, isn't that a tough question. I'm a sugar fan. And a salty fan, along with some of the other NNNs. Basically, I like to eat good food. So if I had to choose one form of chocolate, it would be a dark chocolate Godiva truffle. Those things are so rich, a single one can satisfy my sugar cravings for days. Really -- days. And I'm such a sucker for their packaging, and the cute little designs they've started putting on their chocolates. And their advertisements... sexy.

2. What author got you started reading or writing romance?

I might be dating myself here as the baby of the group, but the first romance I ever bought was Jennifer Crusie's Faking It. I ran into the drugstore with my mother to buy pencils for the SAT (the morning of, of course) and talked her into buying me this book so I could read if I finished early. Of course, they only let you sit there in silence until the time is up, but I'd conveniently forgotten that in the event of getting a new book. That was my downfall into reading "smut," as my father affectionately calls it.

Unlike most writers, who were inspired by one of the greats, the story that started my writing career was the exact opposite. I won't name names, but I read an anthology that was 2 for 3 in the novella category. The last one in the collections was awful. I finally got sick of reading it, threw the book across the room, and yelled, "god, is that all they want these days? Hell, I could write that!"

And the light bulb went off. Of course, it is much harder to write well, but I still needed that burst of, shall we say, inspiration to realize I really wanted to write romance.

3. What's the naughtiest thing you've ever done?

Just one? Aww... but it is the internet, and I'm never quite sure when my parental figures will decide they've had enough mystery and Google my pen name, so I'll keep it PG (the rating, not the Forte, lol). I think it has to be engaging in certain southern activities while my significant other was on the phone with his parents. It was priceless to witness him trying to sound normal when he really... wasn't. Is that oblique enough? Oh well, I guess by now my parents know I'm a hopeless deviant, so this shouldn't surprise them should they stumble across it (Hey Mom and Dad!)

4. What do you like best about the heroine in your latest book?

Oh, this is easy. She's curvy. And brilliant. And curvy. And sexy. And did I mention she's curvy?

I love bigger heroines. Reading about the wonderful men who fall in love with them helps to counter the media images of skinny being the only type of acceptable beauty.

But the best thing about Lara Brunner, my heroine? She doesn't whine about her weight. She is what she is, and she's accepted that. She doesn't need Jaxon (the hero) to tell her she's beautiful, although its always nice to hear.

5. What is a must have in your writing routine?

I'm doing the National Novel Writing Month, and I felt the need for a routine makeover. I took the advice of my fellow NNNs and started lighting candles -- each WIP has its own scent now. I also redid my workspace to inspire romance writing. I collect old romance novel covers, you know, the bodice rippers? I love the cheesy captions and the man mullets. So I have framed these and hung them over my computer to help set the mood. In addition, I HAVE to have music. When I'm writing, I can't think about what to say, or I over analyze it and never get any writing done. The background noise cancels out the internal editor who would rewrite the same line of dialogue ad nauseam. I have my "best of" playlist, songs I've heard so many times the lyrics are no longer distracting, and I play it whenever I write at home, no matter what I'm writing.

6. What was the most interesting thing you learned in researching your most recent release?

Because my novella Maison Domine is set at a luxe BDSM club, I had to do some research into that lifestyle. While I learned many, many things (some more useful than others), the most interesting was that I LOVE the smell of leather. Its just so sexy! Now all I need is a new leather jacket for the SO, who already smells yummy, and I'd play cat, rolling in the scent.

Ok, maybe not, but I'd think about it. Seriously.

7. You're marooned on a tropical island, what sexy celebrity and comfort reads would you want with you?

First of all, this tropical island better come with a five-star hotel. I'm a girly girl... not the outdoorsy type at all. I hate spiders and snakes and things that go bump in the woods. Not to mention that peeing while squatting thing. And no toilet paper.

But I guess having, say, Clive Owen there could make it a little better. Especially were he shirtless half the time, and wearing a new leather jacket the rest (yes, I like the scent that much). As for books, I have a really short genre attention span, so I'm going with P.G. on this. I think a solar-powered, fully-loaded Kindle would suffice. If that's not available, I think the complete works of William Shakespeare would last me awhile. I'm a whore for literary analysis, and he's the best for it.

8. Do you listen to music when you write? If so what's your favorite, or does it change from book to book?

Just as I have a short genre attention span for reading, I'm a little ADD with my music. I need a very eclectic mix -- no full CDs from a single artist for me! I've managed to compile a few playlists that satisfy this need, and I listen to them all the time. They're based on mood, so if I'm writing a heart-wrenching scene, I'd listen to my "Emo" mix. The rest of the time, it's my "Best of the Bes, Sir!" mix.

You get big points if you can ID that line.

9. What's your favorite writing procrastination trick?

Give me a minute to look at some funny cat pictures, and I'll tell you. I Can Haz Cheeseburger is the biggest time suck ever.

I'm a master procrastinator, a la "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie." Like last night... I wanted to shower before writing. But before I could shower, I had to clean the tile. And before I could clean the tile, I had to scrub the tub. And before I could do that... you see what I mean.

Sexcerpt Time! Oops, did I spell that wrong?

Here's a teaser for you... enjoy!

***

Jax was glad Maison Domine had an opening for the weekend. He desperately needed to get away from life for a bit. He loved teaching, seeing his students grow to love a work of literature, or a movie, or seeing the flash of insight cross their faces. But, at the same time, he was overwhelmed by his obligations. His agent was making noises about him writing another book or working on another script. Greedy bastard.

When Kat mentioned there was a shy new submissive coming this weekend, and asked if he would show her the ropes, pun intended, Jax jumped at the chance. He loved introducing newbies to the BDSM world. It suited his purposes, as he had no interest in a full-time submissive. He still got to play, but there were no messy emotional entanglements to deal with. After the Jenny fiasco, that was the last thing he wanted.

Evidently this new woman had been referred by one of the regulars, and from what the regular had told Kat, she was total submissive material, but had trouble giving up control. Jax had been so eager to meet this new sub, he had barely thrown his weekend bag into his room before coming down to the meet and greet.

He stepped into the cozy game room, eyes searching for Kat. Finding her in a stunning red dress, as usual, he took two steps towards her before being distracted by coughing. Whoever it was sounded like she was ill or choking. Jaxon spun to see who was making the racket, and his eyes settled upon a lush figure with her back to him. She wore a bright red top, but it was the creamy expanse of skin exposed between her short black skirt and knee-high boots that tempted him most. Hoping to dash to her rescue, Jax reached the woman right after Katrina. She had stopped coughing, and he could hear a melodic voice arguing with Kat.

“I think I should go to my room, Kat. I’m obviously too tired to chew, much less meet a room full of people.” Jax could tell the woman was embarrassed by the attention.

“No, no, don’t be silly. Inhaled a piece of flaky dough, did you? I do it all the time.” Katrina looked over the woman’s shoulder at him. “Jax, would you grab a glass of water from the end of the table? Bring it over for Lara, and let me properly introduce you two.”

Jax saw the woman, Lara, tense when Kat called out to him. He guessed she didn’t want another person witnessing her supposedly embarrassing moment.

“Excuse me,” he started. “Would you like a glass of…” He couldn’t remember how to finish the sentence.

The woman was Lara Brunner, the uptight chemist he had to share a classroom with. But she wasn’t in a stuffy suit, and her hair wasn’t scraped back from her face. Instead, it fell in soft waves around her face, and her clothes. Wow.

“Dr. Brunner. How nice to see you again.” Jax knew his tone was less than enthusiastic, but he couldn’t bear to reveal how torn he was upon seeing her here, not to mention how very surprised he was to find she was into the scene.

“Jaxon, I mean, Professor Greene. I didn’t expect to see you here. Not that it’s not pleasant to see you, but it is surprising. Shit. First I choke, and then I stick my foot in my mouth. I’ll shut up now.” She flushed again prettily. How he wanted to put color there, to make her breath catch like it had when she was stumbling out her greeting. Except he wanted to do it while making her submit to him, and only him. It was something Jaxon hadn’t felt in years.

***

Read another excerpt here.

Hope you enjoyed, and have a naughty day!

~Skylar Kade~

because life is too short to behave

www.skylarkade.com

Nine Questions for Erin!

It's day TWO of our new blog! How exciting!



So, here are some things you may, or may not, want to know about



Erin Nicholas!










Nine Questions for the Nine Naughty Novelists:



1. If you had to choose only one form of chocolate for the rest of yourlife, what would it be?
While this should be a difficult question considering I don’t go one single day without chocolate, it’s really pretty easy… white chocolate mochas from Starbucks. I truly believe Heaven won’t be Heaven without fountains of this stuff (and unlimited free refills, of course!).

2. What author got you started reading or writing romance?
LaVyrle Spencer was who I first read. Separate Beds is still on my keeper shelf. While I’d always written and every story had romance in it, Susan Elizabeth Phillips was the author who really made me say “I want to do this!” and inspired me to try to get published. Eileen Wilks was the first author I ever wrote a “fan letter” to and who gave me writing advice .

3. What's the naughtiest thing you've ever done?
Well, um… nothing… (my mom might be reading this!). Okay, but honestly, the naughtiest thing I’ve ever done was steal another girl’s boyfriend, totally on purpose! (and no he wasn’t really worth it in the end!)

4. What do you like best about the heroine in your latest book?
Jaden is completely sure of herself, what she believes and what she wants and she doesn’t let anyone tell her different! Even when that makes this more difficult for her I love that. I also love that she’s a physical therapist. I’m a physical therapist myself and I’m so glad to share this book as a little tribute to the amazing professionals I’ve worked with over the years!

5. What is a must have in your writing routine?
Scented candles! I try to use a different scent for each book. It’s amazing to me how that scent can take me into the book and characters so quickly when I sit down to write! It’s a great trick that I just stumbled onto. (the scent for No Matter What was Pumpkin Spice, by the way!)

6. What was the most interesting thing you learned in researching yourmost recent release?
My heroes daughter is in a wheelchair and she discovers some new friends and inspiration with a wheelchair basketball team. I learned a ton about wheelchair basketball, and other sports! Amazing athletes!

7. You're marooned on a tropical island, what sexy celebrity and comfortreads would you want with you?
Matthew McConaughy—shirtless—and he would have to read the comfort reads out loud to me in that sexy southern drawl! The comfort reads would be anything by Lori Foster, Cherry Adair, Susan Elizabeth Phillips or Julia Quinn for me. Don’t really care what Matthew wants to read… if I’m going without Internet, indoor plumbing and the aforementioned mochas, then at least I can choose the books, right?


8. Do you listen to music while you write? If so, what's your favorite, ordoes it change from book to book?
Sometimes. Frank Sinatra is always my first choice, but anything country will do as well. Sometimes I want the background noise. Sometimes I have to shut it off and just focus. A lot of the time I write with other noise… the TV, my kids, etc.


9. What's your favorite writing procrastination trick?
There are so many! Playing with my kids is the best because it’s guiltless! But reading is a big one too. Sometimes I call it research… and sometimes I’m honest!



And... My first book is coming out in 6 days!!




No Matter What is coming from Samhain on November 3rd!




Blurb




Adam Steele is good. Good at using his money to get his way. Money always works—until he realizes he can’t buy his daughter’s way out of her new wheelchair. Three private physical therapists later, he’s almost given up on Emily walking again. Then he meets Dr. Jaden Monroe. And his match.

Jaden doesn’t know the meaning of the word “quit”. But she knows a lot about “fired” after a public blowout with her ex jeopardizes the donation her hospital was counting on. Now the most tempting man she’s ever met has made her just the offer she needs to save the new children’s rehab wing—one million dollars to rehabilitate his daughter. In return she finds herself making Adam rash promises: that his daughter will walk in time to take the lead in the school play. And that he won’t entice her into his bed. No matter what.

But Jaden didn’t anticipate a teen whose injuries are more than physical. Or a man so passionate and devoted—and as tenacious as she is. As Adam wears down her defenses with kiss after kiss, the only thing harder than keeping her promise will be keeping a hold on her heart.



You can check out more about me and my books at http://www.erinnicholas.com/!

Introduction - Diane McEntire

Hello everyone! I’m D. (Diane) McEntire author of the paranormal romance series The Watchers.

Nine Questions for the Nine Naughty Novelists:

1. If you had to choose only one form of chocolate for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Dark chocolate has always been my favorite. Never was a Hershey’s person. I’d be happy to switch is there was a “will not go to your butt and thighs” chocolate.

2. What author got you started reading or writing romance?

I love the JR Ward’s Brotherhood of the Black Dagger Series. They didn’t actually get me started, but if I’m in a funk, reading one of them gets my juices flowing again.

3. What's the naughtiest thing you've ever done?

Sounds lame…but I made out in the back of my car at Cherokee Park.

4. What do you like best about the heroine in your latest book?

I put a lot of myself in her (Midnight Savior releasing Dec. 15th). Many of her trials through life have been my own.

5. What is a must have in your writing routine?

Ideas. My creative flow has to be going. I can’t just sit and write. I have to be in the mood. I often wonder how authors can bang out books so fast. I envy them.

6. What was the most interesting thing you learned in researching your most recent release?

The locale I used was the US Marine Hospital located behind where I work. It is one of the last standing Marine hospitals. We are talking merchant riverboat marines and not the marines today.

7. You're marooned on a tropical island, what sexy celebrity and comfort reads would you want with you?
Probably all of the books from the JR Ward series. I could read them over and over and over…

8. Do you listen to music while you write? If so, what's your favorite, or does it change from book to book?
I can’t listen to music while writing. It’s too distracting. I need quiet to hear the voices in my head.

9. What's your favorite writing procrastination trick?
Still trying to find one.My latest release is Midnight Savior – The Watchers, Book Four coming out on Ebook December 15, 2009 through Samhain Publishing.

Blurb:

The phrase “home sweet home” means nothing to Marie DeVeux. Her parents never understood her ongoing relationship with her dead grandmother. Plus, she’s plagued with dreams of a man being tortured. Dreams so real, the burden strips away every vestige of normal life. At rock bottom, she hears her grandmother’s voice telling her that the man exists, and she’s the only one who can save him.

Kern, a Watcher, should have been more careful when he wished for a little more excitement in his life. Kidnapping wouldn’t have been his choice. Torture, solitary confinement and starvation have left his soul consumed by a burning rage and inner demons that push him to lash out at the first face he’s seen in eight long months. Marie.

Is this woman his knight in shining armor, or just another experiment? Kern must sift through the chaos of his mind for the truth that lies hidden in his heart. And make a decision before time runs out—for them both.

http://www.dmcentire.com/