Lillian Grant

Mergers & Acquisitions available for pre-order

2011-10-12T02:30:00.001-07:00

Now available for pre-order at SirenBookstrand

Mergers & Acquisitions

Accountant, Emily Armitage is stuck in Sydney for the weekend, working on the numbers for a hotel sale while fighting off the unwanted attention of her boss. However, things begin to look up when she steps on her balcony and meets the man of her dreams. When her new neighbor delivers room service, along with a shoulder massage, delicious foot rubs, and easy charm, she succumbs to their obvious attraction.

Having spent a passionate weekend together, Monday morning brings an unwanted revelation. Randy’s been keeping secrets that could change her life. Suddenly uncertain, she is forced to make a choice between her career and a man who adds up to perfection. Should she stick with the hotel acquisition or take a chance on their passionate new merger?

Excerpt

Emily rubbed her cheek against his chin. “They do say you’re never too old.”

Randy wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, nuzzling her cheek with his lips. “I thought the expression was you’re never too old to learn.”

Emily tipped her head back as he showered her neck with kisses. “I’m sure I could give you lessons.”

Randy chuckled and pulled back. “In what?”

She stared into his eyes. She seriously couldn’t take much more of this teasing. She was desperate to taste his mouth, but he seemed determined to keep up the torture. Her mouth was dry, and her heart pounded. Should she make the first move? No, not yet, she wanted to see where he intended to lead her.
“Whatever you like.”

He grinned and returned to kissing her neck, causing her to moan.

Finally, when the torture was about to become too much, he kissed his way along her jaw and gently pressed his lips to hers. When he moved back, so their lips were barely touching, she tried to steal the kiss she longed for, but he refused to give in.

Instead, he rested his forehead against hers and stared into her eyes. Emily smiled at him. “Tease. You do know you’re the best date I ever had?”

He smiled back and pressed his lips gently to hers. She felt, more than heard, his reply as he mumbled it against her mouth.

“But you haven’t had me….yet.”

Suddenly the playing turned to something more. His soft tongue gently touched her lips, and she gladly accepted the passionate kiss she had been longing for all evening. They clung together. She fisted his hair to hold him to her as he slid his hands up her back, pulling her closer. His lips took possession of her. His tongue danced in her mouth. He tasted just as she imagined—smoky, spicy, and warm. The sensation of her breasts pressed to his firm chest, the growing bulge in his jeans digging into her abdomen, and the magic of his mouth, left her breathless. Her nipples hardened, her pussy throbbed. She thought she would pass out, but she never wanted it to end. She could stand on the balcony kissing him forever.

He finally broke the kiss, leaving her with a couple of playful nips of her bottom lip. She took some deep breaths, trying to get her pulse to slow down before she had a heart attack.

He grazed her face with his fingers. His dark eyes drilled into hers. “How would you like to watch the sunrise with me?”

His voice was a purr of barely contained lust sending a bolt of passion to her heated core. Emily swallowed slowly. Oh, my God, he wanted to spend the night. She wanted him to spend the night. In fact, she never wanted to spend a second without him.

She whispered her response. “I would love to.”

Randy planted a kiss on her cheek, trailed one hand over her hip, and entwined his fingers with hers before leading her inside. He pulled the balcony door shut behind them, and she expected him to lead her to the bed, but instead he walked toward the room door.

“Where are you going?’

Mergers & Acquisitions available for pre-order

2011-10-12T02:29:00.000-07:00

Now available for pre-order at SirenBookstrand

Mergers & Acquisitions

A new cover & a great review

2011-10-06T22:05:00.000-07:00

Firstly, today I received a beautiful cover for my book due out on 20th October

Great Review for Male Order

And if that wasn’t enough excitement for one week, I got a great review for Male Order at The Romance Reviews.

4 stars
This book was funny. Laugh out loud, funny. From all of the disasters that make up Meg’s life, to Aunt Maud the octogenarian hornball, I was cracking up the whole time. Meg’s character was the kind of woman that you’d really want to root for. You want things to go her way, even though there seem to be obstacles facing her around each corner.
I had a great time reading this. Lillian Grant has a great voice and I like her style of writing. While this was a departure from her other books, I thought she did a great job. She’s able to give us characters that we invest in and want good things for, and in my opinion, that’s the sign of great writing!
Read more here The Romance Reviews
want to know more about the book or see the hot cover…find it here Male Order

Release day for Male Order

2011-09-12T09:00:00.000-07:00

Available now from Liquid Silver Books

All Romance E-Books and Amazon

And don't forget the competition to win a copy runs until the 16th. Just leave a comment below to be in the draw to win.

Blurb

Meg’s mother can't even say the word sex. Her great aunt is a nymphomaniac. The few men she’s slept with left her frustrated. The closest she’s come to sex was as the unwitting visual aid for hot flatmate, Sam’s, cowboy style, wanking session. No wonder her libido went on permanent vacation and she substitutes ice-cream and chocolate for sex.

With so many hang ups, why does she agree to no strings sex with Sam? Why is hunky, strip club manager Michael bent on seducing her? And why the hell does she invest in a male escort business offering extra services?

Sam’s delighted when he convinces Meg to let him go looking for her missing G spot. A ride on his wild stallion shows her how good sex can be...with the right man. One encounter leads to a dozen. Sam is living every man’s dream, sex with no commitment, too bad it’s not his dream.

His new life turns nightmare when Michael enters the scene. Will the Irishman steal her away, or will his involvement in her Male Order business lead to a disaster that gives Sam a chance to prove to Meg their relationship is more than a sexual rodeo?

Excerpt

A dull thud, thud, thud accompanied by yells of, “Yeehaw, ride ‘em cowboy,” made Meg roll her eyes and sigh loudly.

“For fuck sake, can you keep it down in there, literally?”

Laura glanced at her, then back at the bedroom door. “What’s he doing?”

Meg shook her head. “You don’t want to know.” She shuddered with mock horror at the memory.

“Really? Oh, please tell me, or I’ll have to go find out for myself.”

Laura got to her feet, a wicked gleam in her dark brown eyes. Geez, she would, too. Not that the sight of Sam laid back in a reclining chair, wearing only a cowboy hat and white socks, with his hand wrapped around his dick, jacking off like it was an Olympic sport, would freak her friend out. Hell no, she’d probably offer to ride him. She wasn’t about to let that happen. Sam was too good for the likes of Laura. He deserved a girl a little fussier about where she slept.

Meg jumped up and grabbed Laura’s arm, spilling coffee down the front of her own white shirt in the process. Shit, why couldn’t she do anything without making a mess of herself?

“If I tell you, will you sit back down and promise never to mention it to Sam?”

Laura retook her seat, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, this is going to be really good.”

Meg glanced at the bedroom door. Despite her yelling at him to shut up, yips of pleasure still reached the lounge room.

“Go, baby, ride em. You got it.”

She looked back at Laura then stared at a slice of salami on the coffee table. It must be from the pizza Sam had after she went to bed last night. What a slob. An extremely well endowed slob, but a slob nonetheless.

“Well? Are you going to tell me or not?”

Meg sighed. “He’s jacking off.”

Laura snorted coffee all over the place. Choking, she banged her chest, tears streaming down her face. If Laura died from asphyxiation, she sure as hell wasn’t telling the paramedics Sam’s wanking caused her death.
Between gasping breaths Laura squeaked, “And you found this out how?”

Meg shrugged nonchalantly. No big deal really. He liked to jack off, a lot, and she wanted to see what had him yelling. How was she supposed to know what he was doing in there? She could feel the heat rising to her face at the memory.

She had shoved the door open and there he lay in all his glory, reclining chair toward her. The moment they made eye contact, a huge grin spread across his face as he continued to pummel his dick.

The thought of that monster in his hand still made her panties dampen and her insides throb. The head red and engorged, the shaft decorated with bulging veins, heavy balls bunched up tight between his widespread thighs. She’d been unable to move until he groaned and shot his wad all over his stomach. The memory of his warm spunk spilling from his cock made her squirm in her seat.

The spell had finally been broken when he winked at her, asking if she wanted to take a turn on his trusty steed. She had turned tail and run out of the house. Hiding in the mall for hours dressed in her food stained hot pink sweats and matching fluffy slippers.

“I went to check on him one afternoon when he got to yelling and I found him sitting in his chair jacking off. Anyway, I thought you were here to talk about work?”

Laura leaned forward, her face flushed. “So you’re not even going to tell me if he’s hung like a horse?”
Having Laura over was a mistake, she made no secret of the fact she liked Sam. Always going on about his buff body and rippling abs. No way was she going to add anything else to her best friend’s fantasy life, she already had an overactive imagination.

Despite all but chasing after him with drool running down her chin, Sam had shown no interest in her. She wondered why. With her heart-shaped face, willowy figure and immaculately styled long blonde hair, most men found her irresistible. Now she thought about it, Sam hadn’t just ignored her not so subtle advances but, as far as Meg remembered, the only dates he had since he moved in were with his right hand. Even if the women he met hadn’t seen him in all his naked glory, his cute smile and pale blue eyes would win him many loyal fans. They had sure as hell worked on her when he turned up in response to the landlord’s advertisement for someone to flat share with her. She glanced at Laura, who was wrapping a fat blonde curl around her finger and staring at her waiting for an answer.

Meg shrugged. “More like My Little Pony.” She was shocked at how easily and convincingly the lie slipped out without guilt or hesitation. “Now, can we please get back to our discussion?”

With a shrug, Laura put her coffee cup on the side table and pulled a pad and pen out of her bag. “Okay, we need a slogan for Wonder Bites.”

“I thought we did that already?”

“I ran them by Bill. His exact words were ‘you girls better get your shit together or you’ll be wearing sandwich boards advertising condoms in a brothel’.”

“Such a lovely turn of phrase, no wonder he’s in marketing. So did he hate both of them? I thought yours truly sucked. ‘Wonder Bites, good all the way from your mouth to the pan’.” She giggled at Laura as she pouted in response to her teasing.

“I was focusing on the health aspects of the cereal. Anyway you can’t talk. You would hardly win the Clio Award for advertising slogans with ‘Wonder Bites smell funky but taste real good’.”

“They do smell funky. I was just being honest. I’m getting sick of all the bullshit.” Meg stretched out the length of the couch and stared at the ceiling. She’d become fed up with peddling crap in New South Wales’ least successful ad agency. How many more lies could she couch in catchy slogans to sell garbage no one wanted? If only she had a product she believed in, or a job she enjoyed. “Laura, have you ever thought about doing something else for a living?”

“Every day, hun, I’ve even researched what else I could do with my skills.”

A kernel of an idea had been growing in Meg’s brain for weeks. Maybe Laura wouldn’t laugh if she told her. “I was thinking of going out on my own. You know, setting up my own business.”

“Doing what?”

Meg sighed. “That’s the big problem.”

Laura leaned forward into Meg’s peripheral vision. “Funny you should mention starting your own business. I’ve been thinking the same thing and I might just have an idea we could both use.”

The door to Sam’s room banged open. Meg glanced over at Laura. She’d lost her attention. Turning her head a little further, she could see why. There he stood. Skin glistening with sweat, his only attire a less than adequate white towel slung low on his hips and a cowboy hat on his head. Every step he took revealed the full length of his thigh, but thankfully not the full length of anything else.

He grinned at them, flashing a perfect set of pearly whites. “Ladies, what are you two plotting now?”

Meg crossed her arms over her chest. “How to kill noisy flat mates.”

She didn’t need to look to know he had moved closer. The scent of fresh sweat and musky cologne tickling her nose announced his arrival. His voice growled in her ear. “I think you enjoy hearing me almost as much as you enjoyed watching me. Maybe if you got out more you wouldn’t find my private life so stimulating. Unless you do really want me, but you’re too sexually repressed to let go.”

His face hovered above hers. Screw him. Why did he have to look so damn good when he had that smug expression on his mug? His blue eyes twinkled with amusement, his full lips quivered with barely contained laughter.

“For someone so ready to hand out dating advice, I can’t say I’ve noticed you being so lucky with the ladies of late.”

“Maybe I’m waiting for the right jockey.”

Meg grinned at him. “Or maybe you can’t find a jockey small enough to enjoy the ride.”

Her jibe missed the mark. He laughed before bending forward and brushing his lips against hers. His breath tickled her neck, making her shiver, as he whispered, “Perhaps you should slide in the saddle one night and take me through my paces. Then you would find out just how big my stallion really is.”

Hands on his shoulders, she shoved him away. It wasn’t the first time he had kissed her, but this time it had felt more intimate. Not the usual friendly peck and definitely part of his teasing. “Fuck off, Sam. We’re trying to work here.”

Win a Copy of Male Order

2011-09-08T03:36:00.000-07:00

To celebrate the release of Male Order – Reigning Men Volume One I am running a contest.

My hero, in the cowboy hat, yells yeehaw when having a good time. This led to endless opportunities for me to find many horse related words to describe what he has hidden just beneath his hand. So, if you were the heroine and wanted to give his lovely stallion a horse related name what would you choose? And no he is not a gelding!

Leave a comment below and I will pick a winner on the 16th of September to receive a free e-book copy.

And if you want to know more here is a blurb and excerpt.

Sleeping with her flatmate, Sam had been a mistake—becoming a strip club manager’s pimp was a disaster

Blurb:
Meg’s mother can’t even say the word sex. Her great aunt is a nymphomaniac. The few men she’s slept with left her frustrated. The closest she’s come to sex was as the unwitting visual aid for hot flatmate, Sam’s, cowboy style, wanking session. No wonder her libido went on permanent vacation and she substitutes ice-cream and chocolate for sex.
With so many hang ups, why does she agree to no strings sex with Sam? Why is hunky, strip club manager Michael bent on seducing her? And why the hell does she invest in a male escort business offering extra services?
Sam’s delighted when he convinces Meg to let him go looking for her missing G spot. A ride on his wild stallion shows her how good sex can be…with the right man. One encounter leads to a dozen. Sam is living every man’s dream, sex with no commitment, too bad it’s not his dream.

His new life turns nightmare when Michael enters the scene. Will the Irishman steal her away, or will his involvement in her Male Order business lead to a disaster that gives Sam a chance to prove to Meg their relationship is more than a sexual rodeo?

Excerpt:
A dull thud, thud, thud accompanied by yells of, “Yeehaw, ride ‘em cowboy,” made Meg roll her eyes and sigh loudly.

“For fuck sake, can you keep it down in there, literally?”

Laura glanced at her, then back at the bedroom door. “What’s he doing?”

Meg shook her head. “You don’t want to know.” She shuddered with mock horror at the memory.

“Really? Oh, please tell me, or I’ll have to go find out for myself.”

Laura got to her feet, a wicked gleam in her dark brown eyes. Geez, she would, too. Not that the sight of Sam laid back in a reclining chair, wearing only a cowboy hat and white socks, with his hand wrapped around his dick, jacking off like it was an Olympic sport, would freak her friend out. Hell no, she’d probably offer to ride him. She wasn’t about to let that happen. Sam was too good for the likes of Laura. He deserved a girl a little fussier about where she slept.

Meg jumped up and grabbed Laura’s arm, spilling coffee down the front of her own white shirt in the process. Shit, why couldn’t she do anything without making a mess of herself?

“If I tell you, will you sit back down and promise never to mention it to Sam?”

Laura retook her seat, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, this is going to be really good.”

Meg glanced at the bedroom door. Despite her yelling at him to shut up, yips of pleasure still reached the lounge room.

“Go, baby, ride em. You got it.”

She looked back at Laura then stared at a slice of salami on the coffee table. It must be from the pizza Sam had after she went to bed last night. What a slob. An extremely well endowed slob, but a slob nonetheless.

“Well? Are you going to tell me or not?”

Meg sighed. “He’s jacking off.”

Laura snorted coffee all over the place. Choking, she banged her chest, tears streaming down her face. If Laura died from asphyxiation, she sure as hell wasn’t telling the paramedics Sam’s wanking caused her death.
Between gasping breaths Laura squeaked, “And you found this out how?”

Meg shrugged nonchalantly. No big deal really. He liked to jack off, a lot, and she wanted to see what had him yelling. How was she supposed to know what he was doing in there? She could feel the heat rising to her face at the memory.

She had shoved the door open and there he lay in all his glory, reclining chair toward her. The moment they made eye contact, a huge grin spread across his face as he continued to pummel his dick.

The thought of that monster in his hand still made her panties dampen and her insides throb. The head red and engorged, the shaft decorated with bulging veins, heavy balls bunched up tight between his widespread thighs. She’d been unable to move until he groaned and shot his wad all over his stomach. The memory of his warm spunk spilling from his cock made her squirm in her seat.

The spell had finally been broken when he winked at her, asking if she wanted to take a turn on his trusty steed. She had turned tail and run out of the house. Hiding in the mall for hours dressed in her food stained hot pink sweats and matching fluffy slippers.

“I went to check on him one afternoon when he got to yelling and I found him sitting in his chair jacking off. Anyway, I thought you were here to talk about work?”

Laura leaned forward, her face flushed. “So you’re not even going to tell me if he’s hung like a horse?”
Having Laura over was a mistake, she made no secret of the fact she liked Sam. Always going on about his buff body and rippling abs. No way was she going to add anything else to her best friend’s fantasy life, she already had an overactive imagination.

Despite all but chasing after him with drool running down her chin, Sam had shown no interest in her. She wondered why. With her heart-shaped face, willowy figure and immaculately styled long blonde hair, most men found her irresistible. Now she thought about it, Sam hadn’t just ignored her not so subtle advances but, as far as Meg remembered, the only dates he had since he moved in were with his right hand. Even if the women he met hadn’t seen him in all his naked glory, his cute smile and pale blue eyes would win him many loyal fans. They had sure as hell worked on her when he turned up in response to the landlord’s advertisement for someone to flat share with her. She glanced at Laura, who was wrapping a fat blonde curl around her finger and staring at her waiting for an answer.

Meg shrugged. “More like My Little Pony.” She was shocked at how easily and convincingly the lie slipped out without guilt or hesitation. “Now, can we please get back to our discussion?”

With a shrug, Laura put her coffee cup on the side table and pulled a pad and pen out of her bag. “Okay, we need a slogan for Wonder Bites.”

“I thought we did that already?”

“I ran them by Bill. His exact words were ‘you girls better get your shit together or you’ll be wearing sandwich boards advertising condoms in a brothel’.”

“Such a lovely turn of phrase, no wonder he’s in marketing. So did he hate both of them? I thought yours truly sucked. ‘Wonder Bites, good all the way from your mouth to the pan’.” She giggled at Laura as she pouted in response to her teasing.

“I was focusing on the health aspects of the cereal. Anyway you can’t talk. You would hardly win the Clio Award for advertising slogans with ‘Wonder Bites smell funky but taste real good’.”

“They do smell funky. I was just being honest. I’m getting sick of all the bullshit.” Meg stretched out the length of the couch and stared at the ceiling. She’d become fed up with peddling crap in New South Wales’ least successful ad agency. How many more lies could she couch in catchy slogans to sell garbage no one wanted? If only she had a product she believed in, or a job she enjoyed. “Laura, have you ever thought about doing something else for a living?”

“Every day, hun, I’ve even researched what else I could do with my skills.”

A kernel of an idea had been growing in Meg’s brain for weeks. Maybe Laura wouldn’t laugh if she told her.
“I was thinking of going out on my own. You know, setting up my own business.”

“Doing what?”

Meg sighed. “That’s the big problem.”

Laura leaned forward into Meg’s peripheral vision. “Funny you should mention starting your own business. I’ve been thinking the same thing and I might just have an idea we could both use.”

The door to Sam’s room banged open. Meg glanced over at Laura. She’d lost her attention. Turning her head a little further, she could see why. There he stood. Skin glistening with sweat, his only attire a less than adequate white towel slung low on his hips and a cowboy hat on his head. Every step he took revealed the full length of his thigh, but thankfully not the full length of anything else.

He grinned at them, flashing a perfect set of pearly whites. “Ladies, what are you two plotting now?”

Meg crossed her arms over her chest. “How to kill noisy flat mates.”

She didn’t need to look to know he had moved closer. The scent of fresh sweat and musky cologne tickling her nose announced his arrival. His voice growled in her ear. “I think you enjoy hearing me almost as much as you enjoyed watching me. Maybe if you got out more you wouldn’t find my private life so stimulating. Unless you do really want me, but you’re too sexually repressed to let go.”

His face hovered above hers. Screw him. Why did he have to look so damn good when he had that smug expression on his mug? His blue eyes twinkled with amusement, his full lips quivered with barely contained laughter.

“For someone so ready to hand out dating advice, I can’t say I’ve noticed you being so lucky with the ladies of late.”

“Maybe I’m waiting for the right jockey.”

Meg grinned at him. “Or maybe you can’t find a jockey small enough to enjoy the ride.”

Her jibe missed the mark. He laughed before bending forward and brushing his lips against hers. His breath tickled her neck, making her shiver, as he whispered, “Perhaps you should slide in the saddle one night and take me through my paces. Then you would find out just how big my stallion really is.”

Hands on his shoulders, she shoved him away. It wasn’t the first time he had kissed her, but this time it had felt more intimate. Not the usual friendly peck and definitely part of his teasing. “Fuck off, Sam. We’re trying to work here.”

The Romance Reviews top pick

2011-09-02T22:13:00.000-07:00

5 Stars

So, a strong, suspenseful plot, characters I loved, and intense chemistry came together to make this a fantastic read. SPEAK TO ME OF ABDUCTION is the first in the Reel to Real series, and I can’t wait to see what’s going to happen next with the Devereaux family.
This is my second read by Lillian Grant, and this is the second one I’ve had a blast reading. She’s new on the scene but I think she’s got an excellent future ahead of her. If her first two books are any indication, she’s definitely an author to watch!
Read more here: The Romance Reviews

Great review for Speak to Me of Abduction

2011-07-27T15:05:00.001-07:00

I am so excited that people are enjoying this book.

BookWenches have reviewed it and given it 4.5 rating.

Speak to Me of Abduction by Lillian Grant is a fast-paced and fun novel that combines the thrill of a foreign destination, the tarnished glitz of Hollywood film-making, a suspenseful search for a missing man, and sizzling hot romance. I found it to be exciting and sexy and an all-around good read.
We do have to suspend our disbelief somewhat when we read this book, because the heroine meets two gorgeous Hollywood stars who end up being real people – nice, even – but I enjoyed this fantasy aspect of the book. This is a story for all of us who have ever sighed over a movie star (or two) and wanted to be spirited away to an exotic destination on his private yacht.

It did amuse me that the reviewer has a very jaded view of the rich and famous. I'm sure lots of them are very real and very nice people :)

You can read the whole review at BookWenches

Two more chances to win Keep it Under Wraps

2011-07-25T04:36:00.000-07:00

Did you miss out on the competition I ran to celebrate the release? Want another chance to win a copy of Keep it Under Wraps?
I am running another contest at The Romance Reviews until the 30th of July so check it out quick.
ENTER HERE

Speak to Me of Abduction had been reviewed

2011-07-21T03:49:00.000-07:00

Speak to Me of Abduction has been reviewed by Literary Nymphs and they gave it 4 Nymphs.

The sexual tension…the build-up of the relationship of Jacob and Charlene is well done and when they finally get together, it’s sizzling. The action packed scenes near the end are some of the best in the book and I really enjoyed seeing the villain get their just desserts. Watch for Keep it Under Wraps, the next book in the series, coming soon.

You can read the whole review here Literary Nymphs

A chance to win a copy of Keep it Under Wraps

2011-07-16T02:18:00.000-07:00

To celebrate the release of Keep it Under Wraps on 19 July I am giving a copy away to one lucky person who leaves a comment below.

So, as you might work out from the cover, the lovely Hollywood bad boy Jonathon Deveraux finds himself handcuffed by a feisty female PI. If you could handcuff someone to a bed who would you choose? Leave a comment and check back on the 19th to see if you are the lucky winner. Oh, and you don’t need to have read book one to enjoy book two.

If you don’t want to wait you can preorder it at Sirenbookstrand. And it is available at a discount price until the 26th July.

Blurb
A sex scandal threatens to destroy reformed Hollywood bad boy Jonathon Deveraux. PI Georgina Stanvers can save him – if they can trust each other.

Reformed Hollywood bad boy, Jonathon Deveraux, doesn’t remember starring in the DVD in his mailbox, and he’s not sure he trusts the female PI hired to find out where the movie came from.

Georgina Stanvers needs the work but she doesn’t like Jonathon. He’s a smooth talker, like the movie makers who ruined her father. She only suggests re-enacting the bondage scene to jar the actor’s memory. But untamed passion rewrites the script, and inhibitions are stripped away along with their clothing.

When bullets fly it appears an impending sex scandal is the least of Jonathon’s troubles. Needing to discover the truth, “George” puts her heart on the line, and her life in the hands of killers bent on revenge. If Jonathon is to prove his attraction to the PI is more than lust, he’ll have to save her. But first he needs to trust George, and his heart.
Excerpt
George swallowed, breathing deeply in an effort to slow her racing pulse. There he sat, on a bed. The bed. The one where the two ladies had tied him up and done to him what they would. Knowing what happened here should disgust her, but it didn’t. She had never thought being a voyeur was a turn-on. Porn did nothing for her, but she had to admit she’d watched the DVD more times than strictly necessary to solve the case. If she made the suggestion swirling in her brain would she be able to resist temptation? From the expression on Jonathon’s face, she got the impression he wouldn’t be disappointed if she didn’t.

“Perhaps a reenactment would help you remember something.”

His gaze met hers, and she took an involuntary step toward him. Dark eyes filled with desire held her enraptured. Now that she stood within reach, his hand circled her arm and tugged her to stand between his legs.

“Reenact how, exactly?”

George forced herself to break eye contact and stared at the headboard instead.

“You could lie on the bed, like in the video, and I could tie you up. It might trigger something?”

The smile teasing his lips left her in no doubt he had deliberately taken the last comment to mean something sexual. Is that what she meant? She didn’t know.

He agreed with a small nod, and she stepped back as he pulled off his boots. His socks came off with a quick tug then he began to slowly unbutton his shirt. Eyes locked on his, she fought not to drop her gaze to his chest as his tanned torso gradually came into view. The garment slid down his arms and he tossed it aside before getting to his feet. Battle lost, she took in his toned muscles, brown skin, and dark nipples erect from the cold, or maybe with lust. Her own nipples hardened in response, sending a shiver down her spine. She stood mesmerized as he slid his hands down his chest, over his stomach, before they came to rest on his belt buckle.

Her eyes focused on the oversized steel clasp. Fingers sliding behind the scuffed black leather, he started to tug the belt free. George took a deep breath and looked away. She was disgusted with herself. Lust may have melted her resolve, but she didn’t have to show it. What was wrong with her? She was practically drooling.
She dropped her bag to the floor and rummaged around inside, deliberately focused on what she was doing. “You don’t need to go all the way. How about you keep your jeans on, Tiger?” She glanced up at him and smiled. “I’d hate for you to catch a chill.”

With his belt unfastened and his button undone, he climbed on the bed, lying in the middle, arms by his side.
George finally retrieved what she was searching for. She stepped to the bed, and he moved from staring at the ceiling to see what she held in her hands.

“Handcuffs? But they tied me.”

“I don’t carry rope. Hands above your head.”

He moved his hands to rest them on the pillow. Her gaze shifted away from his sparsely haired armpits, tight pecs, and defined shoulders, to his face. He chuckled. “But you do carry handcuffs? For work or pleasure?”

She bit her bottom lip, determined not to let him bait her. Leaning across him, she closed the cuff around his left wrist before sliding it through the bars in the headboard and then fastening it around his right wrist. The effort caused her chest to brush against his face. When he rubbed his lips against her protruding nipple she gasped. Pushing herself back up to a standing position, she folded her arms. Both her nipples had beaded at his touch and now threatened to break through the thin fabric of her T-shirt. She made a mental note to always wear a bra in future.

“Lie still and concentrate. You won’t remember anything if you’re fooling around.”

He sighed and stared back at the ceiling. “I figured if this was a reenactment then fooling around would be the order of the day.”

God, he was right. How was having him lie on the bed seminaked supposed to achieve anything? So far all she had managed to do was turn herself on. The sight of his bare chest along with the soft hair that started below his belly button and thickened just above the zipper on his jeans wasn’t helping much either. The only one likely to have flashbacks was her.

Want to know what happens next….check the adult excerpt at SirenBookstrand.

Keep it Under Wraps available for pre-order

2011-07-12T05:19:00.000-07:00

Now available for pre-order

A sex scandal threatens to destroy reformed Hollywood bad boy Jonathon Deveraux. PI Georgina Stanvers can save him – if they can trust each other.
Reformed Hollywood bad boy, Jonathon Deveraux, doesn’t remember starring in the DVD in his mailbox, and he’s not sure he trusts the female PI hired to find out where the movie came from.
Georgina Stanvers needs the work but she doesn’t like Jonathon. He’s a smooth talker, like the movie makers who ruined her father. She only suggests re-enacting the bondage scene to jar the actor’s memory. But untamed passion rewrites the script, and inhibitions are stripped away along with their clothing.
When bullets fly it appears an impending sex scandal is the least of Jonathon’s troubles. Needing to discover the truth, “George” puts her heart on the line, and her life in the hands of killers bent on revenge. If Jonathon is to prove his attraction to the PI is more than lust, he’ll have to save her. But first he needs to trust George, and his heart.

Available now at Siren Bookstrand

Excerpt

George swallowed, breathing deeply in an effort to slow her racing pulse. There he sat, on a bed. The bed. The one where the two ladies had tied him up and done to him what they would. Knowing what happened here should disgust her, but it didn’t. She had never thought being a voyeur was a turn-on. Porn did nothing for her, but she had to admit she’d watched the DVD more times than strictly necessary to solve the case. If she made the suggestion swirling in her brain would she be able to resist temptation? From the expression on Jonathon’s face, she got the impression he wouldn’t be disappointed if she didn’t.

“Perhaps a reenactment would help you remember something.”

His gaze met hers, and she took an involuntary step toward him. Dark eyes filled with desire held her enraptured. Now that she stood within reach, his hand circled her arm and tugged her to stand between his legs.

“Reenact how, exactly?”

George forced herself to break eye contact and stared at the headboard instead.

“You could lie on the bed, like in the video, and I could tie you up. It might trigger something?”

The smile teasing his lips left her in no doubt he had deliberately taken the last comment to mean something sexual. Is that what she meant? She didn’t know.

He agreed with a small nod, and she stepped back as he pulled off his boots. His socks came off with a quick tug then he began to slowly unbutton his shirt. Eyes locked on his, she fought not to drop her gaze to his chest as his tanned torso gradually came into view. The garment slid down his arms and he tossed it aside before getting to his feet. Battle lost, she took in his toned muscles, brown skin, and dark nipples erect from the cold, or maybe with lust. Her own nipples hardened in response, sending a shiver down her spine. She stood mesmerized as he slid his hands down his chest, over his stomach, before they came to rest on his belt buckle.
Her eyes focused on the oversized steel clasp. Fingers sliding behind the scuffed black leather, he started to tug the belt free. George took a deep breath and looked away. She was disgusted with herself. Lust may have melted her resolve, but she didn’t have to show it. What was wrong with her? She was practically drooling.
She dropped her bag to the floor and rummaged around inside, deliberately focused on what she was doing.

“You don’t need to go all the way. How about you keep your jeans on, Tiger?” She glanced up at him and smiled. “I’d hate for you to catch a chill.”

With his belt unfastened and his button undone, he climbed on the bed, lying in the middle, arms by his side.
George finally retrieved what she was searching for. She stepped to the bed, and he moved from staring at the ceiling to see what she held in her hands.

“Handcuffs? But they tied me.”

“I don’t carry rope. Hands above your head.”

He moved his hands to rest them on the pillow. Her gaze shifted away from his sparsely haired armpits, tight pecs, and defined shoulders, to his face. He chuckled. “But you do carry handcuffs? For work or pleasure?”

She bit her bottom lip, determined not to let him bait her. Leaning across him, she closed the cuff around his left wrist before sliding it through the bars in the headboard and then fastening it around his right wrist. The effort caused her chest to brush against his face. When he rubbed his lips against her protruding nipple she gasped. Pushing herself back up to a standing position, she folded her arms. Both her nipples had beaded at his touch and now threatened to break through the thin fabric of her T-shirt. She made a mental note to always wear a bra in future.

“Lie still and concentrate. You won’t remember anything if you’re fooling around.”

He sighed and stared back at the ceiling. “I figured if this was a reenactment then fooling around would be the order of the day.”

God, he was right. How was having him lie on the bed seminaked supposed to achieve anything? So far all she had managed to do was turn herself on. The sight of his bare chest along with the soft hair that started below his belly button and thickened just above the zipper on his jeans wasn’t helping much either. The only one likely to have flashbacks was her.

Cover Art for Male Order

2011-06-29T15:41:00.000-07:00

This is the cover for a book I have coming out in September with Liquid Silver books. It's a romantic comedy and book one in a series but really, who cares about the story when the cover artist, April Martinez comes up with something that gorgeous!

Blurb
Sleeping with her flatmate, Sam had been a mistake--becoming a strip club manager's pimp was a disaster.
Meg’s mother can't even say the word sex. Her great aunt is a nymphomaniac. The few men she’s slept with left her frustrated. The closest she’s come to sex was as the unwitting visual aid for hot flatmate, Sam’s, cowboy style, wanking session. No wonder her libido went on permanent vacation and she substitutes ice-cream and chocolate for sex.
With so many hang ups, why does she agree to no strings sex with Sam? Why is hunky, strip club manager Michael bent on seducing her? And why the hell does she invest in a male escort business offering extra services?
Sam’s delighted when he convinces Meg to let him go looking for her missing G spot. A ride on his wild stallion shows her how good sex can be...with the right man. One encounter leads to a dozen. Sam is living every man’s dream, sex with no commitment, too bad it’s not his dream.

His new life turns nightmare when Michael enters the scene. Will the Irishman steal her away, or will his involvement in her Male Order business lead to a disaster that gives Sam a chance to prove to Meg their relationship is more than a sexual rodeo.

Dare to Dream - Debbie Vaughan

2011-06-26T04:20:00.000-07:00

Blurb

It’s said love is timeless.
Meghan Dennehy, is about to prove it.

Uncomfortable in her world, the antiques of the past hold far more interest than the fast paced era Meghan Dennehy lives in. Only happy with her nose in a book or in the life built in her dreams, she longs for a place to belong and a love of her own.
A hundred years in the past, Will Thornton, a half-breed former army scout is caught between two worlds. Passing for white, he does not forget his native heritage and proudly bears the name Ghost Walking, given him by his grandfather. His heart yearns for someone to love him for who and what he is.
Fate intercedes to bring them together. But destiny isn’t always kind, even to young lovers. It will take more than passion to bind them. It will take faith in a love that transcends time.

Excerpt

Will brought in the trunk from the barn to set at the foot of the bed. He heard her stirring about in the kitchen, but was determined to leave her alone until everything was ready. He laid a fire in the fireplace and surveyed his efforts. He hoped they’d do for now.

He stood and arched his back until his spine cracked. He must be getting old. He caught wind of a wonderful aroma drifting from under the door. A compliment to her cooking would be a good start and far from a lie. Everything she’d made so far had been perfect.

He eased the door open, not wanting to startle her by just bursting in. Turning his head to the right, he saw the chair under the door handle and frowned. Was she trying to bar his way? He turned his head to the left and forgot to breathe as his heart tried to escape his chest and his cock, the tight confines of his britches. He stepped through the doorway to gape.

In the lantern light, her pale body bent over the tub rim, slender and perfect. Fair hair swirled in the water as her right arm groped for the pitcher. He grimaced when the spasm set in, watching her cradle the limb to her chest until the pain passed.

“Meghan?” He spoke her name softly so as not to startle, and she froze. He unbuttoned two buttons of his shirt and pulled it over his head. “Let me rinse your hair.”

She didn’t speak, nor did she move to rise. Will knelt behind her, knees on either side of hers and dipped the pitcher into the tub. He poured the contents slowly along her nape, using his other hand to squeeze the soap out. The bulge of his erection rubbed against her bare bottom with each movement. He leaned farther in order to draw her mane from the water so he might rinse the last of the soap away, and her ass wriggled.

Wrapping her hair around his hand, he pulled her head back gently, forcing her to gaze up at him. Tears streamed down her face.

“Hush, love, hush,” he cooed as he pressed her to his chest.

“I’m sorry. I’d take it back if I could.”

He pulled her face around, her hair still his handle. “Take what back?”

“The others, if you’d come first, they never would have been. But you weren’t there. I had to come find you.”

Will smiled despite her tear-stained face and kissed each eye. They must be destined for each other if he understood what she meant. “What or who came before doesn’t matter. I was wrong to ask. Everything started new the day we met.”

“So you don’t think I’m a slut? You don’t care I’m not a virgin?”

Will wiped at the tears on her lashes and cursed himself as twice the fool. He kissed her tenderly. Breaking the kiss, he pulled his lips only far enough away to say, “No, I would never think that of you. I just couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else touching you, or you them.” He allowed his hand to roam over her breast. “As to the other, at this moment I am happy you’re not a green maiden, else what I plan to do might shock your sensibilities.”

A shiver ran through her, and her eyes widened. “What did you have in mind?”

Will smiled wickedly, and then kissed her senseless. When her body went limp in his arms, he turned her around until she again faced the tub. His tongue dipped into her ear, causing her to buck against him. He chuckled.

“Lean way over, sweetheart. Get a good grip on the rim.” Will urged her arms outward, curling her fingers over the tub’s edge. He angled her butt up and nudged her knees outward, sat back, and assayed her position. “Mmm, stay put. I won’t be long.”

He took longer than he should have to get his boots off. The lantern light glistening off the dew already collecting between her thighs became horribly distracting, or maybe it was the knowledge she wanted him as bad as he wanted her. He tossed the last boot across the room and she made an—eep! His britches and drawers came off as one.

Knelt behind her, he ran a finger down her spine, and she arched her back like a cat. When the same finger ran the length of her slit, her back bowed, and her ass went up. Wet and perfect. He seemed to continually promise to take things slow and then make a liar of himself. He’d try again for her sake.

He eased his rampant rod down to rest between her lower lips, swallowing the groan that rose from his depths as they touched. Cupping her breasts in his hands, he massaged them while he danced his tongue along her neck and shoulder.

“Will?” Her butt tilted more in invitation.

“Mmm. Sugar, I’m tryin’ to take this slow.” The groan escaped as she wiggled her ass.

“Can we try slow another time? Please?”

Her skin went goosepimply under his hands. Pure meanness made him ask, “Please, what?”

“Love me, now.” The plea ended in a sob.

The need in her voice stole the air from the room. Will drew back slowly, allowing the swollen head of his shaft to stroke back over her bud then further until he reached her entrance, wet and ready. He held himself in check and moved forward an inch at a time. His hands stilled her hips when she would have thrust back onto him, possibly ending everything before they started.

When his groin touched her butt, she pushed back, taking up that last bit. A shudder ran through her and into Will as her inner muscles trembled and squeezed the length of him.

Her sigh turned to a moan when he began to thrust.

Available for pre-order now at Siren Bookstrand

The Winners are....

2011-06-18T04:18:00.001-07:00

I have drawn the winners for the two free copies of Speak to Me of Abduction. The two lucky ladies are Debbie and Margie Heitz. I hope you enjoy reading about my Hollywood hunks as much as I enjoyed writing about them. Congratulations!

Two chances to win a free copy of Speak to Me of Abduction

2011-06-12T19:52:00.000-07:00

To celebrate the release of Speak to Me of Abduction on Wednesday I am giving away two free copies.

Visit my website www.lilliangrant.com before Friday for your chance to win.

Speak to Me of Abduction

2011-06-06T14:57:00.000-07:00

Speak to Me of Abduction is now available for pre-order at SirenBookstrand

Find me today

2011-05-31T03:15:00.000-07:00

Today I am blogging on ERAuthor's group blog Some Write it Hot. I'm talking about when enough is too much...backstory...sheesh you people!

A cover for Speak to Me of Abduction

2011-05-27T03:24:00.000-07:00

Speak to Me of Abduction

Coming on 15th June from Siren-BookStrand my romantic suspense novel, and book one in my Reel to Real series.

After accepting a movie role, Charlene Page, worries she might be the next rising porn star. On reflection, that might have been safer.

Cover artist, Jinger Heaston

Blurb
Stuck in Rio and desperate for cash, Australian backpacker Charlene accepts a minor movie role. When her co-star, Hollywood hunk and serial womanizer, Jonathon Deveraux is abducted from the set she turns to his older brother for help.
Oscar winner and Hollywood good guy Jacob Deveraux is a recluse. However, when his brother goes missing, he agrees to help the hapless backpacker who appears to have been deceived into taking a movie role so that Jonathon could woo her into his bed. The more determined he is to keep his distance the more he is drawn to her. When it becomes obvious his bother’s kidnapping is designed to punish Jacob he worries Charlene may be next. Despite his best efforts to keep her safe she is grabbed off the street. Can he find and save his brother and Charlene or will he lose another woman he loves?

Debbie Vaughan is going to be Published

2011-03-31T02:12:00.000-07:00

I am so excited that my lovely crit buddy has finally been allowed to announce that she is going to be published. The wonderful Debbie Vaughan, who was my guest here a few weeks ago, has signed a contract with Siren-BookStrand for her book Dare to Dream. The book is due out as an e-book in July and a paperback sometime later. I had the pleasure of reading it before she submitted it and it is a truly wonderful story.

It’s said love is timeless.
Meghan Dennehy is about to prove it.

Uncomfortable in her world, the antiques of the past hold far more interest than the fast paced era Meghan Dennehy lives in. Only happy with her nose in a book or in the life built in her dreams, she longs for a place to belong and a love of her own.

A hundred years in the past, Will Thornton, a half-breed former army scout is caught between two worlds. Passing for white, he does not forget his native heritage and proudly bears the name Ghost Walking, given him by his grandfather. His heart yearns for someone to love him for who and what he is.

Fate intercedes to bring them together. But destiny isn't always kind, even to young lovers. It will take more than passion to bind them. It will take faith in a love that transcends time.

Meet Author Ash Penn

2011-03-23T02:14:00.000-07:00

Today I am excited to be interviewing English author, Ash Penn.

*Lillian flops into a deck chair and waves a hand at Ash.*

Sit, sit. Here have a blanket. I turned the temperature down so you would feel at home. Now we can imagine we’re on a British beach in the middle of summer.

I did want to use Cornelle Keeven’s set but he got a bug up his butt. You make one small mistake and he bears a grudge for months. Hell, I even told him Debbie wasn’t coming and I’d frisk people to make sure they weren’t carrying explosives. He got real freaked out when I offered to show him my frisking technique. Anyway, this is cosy isn’t it?

Q. So, Ash, this book Passing Time is your second release with Loose Id. Tell us a bit about the characters and the plot. I understand it’s a bit spooky. Woooohoooo.

A. There are spooky elements but it’s not really a ghost story. Louis Duncan is a rather grouchy guy, fast approaching middle age and wallowing in his own sense of hopelessness. Jake is younger and embraces life. Their differences make them perfect for one another. Even Louis’s boyfriend, Carter thinks so. And he’s dead.

Q. As you know, I only write Male/Female romance, soooo I have always wanted to ask how do you write Male/ Male? Being as you’re a girl I can’t work out how you know what goes where and who does what to whom? I am only dealing with plugs and sockets but you have a plug overload and some interesting sockets to use!

A. Imagination plays a big part. Plenty of research via m/m novels. I have been known to lurk on certain forums where people discuss the intimacies of their sex lives. Another great resource is the m/m group on Goodreads.

Q. Have you always written Male/Male romance? What made you chose that genre?

A. Yes, I’ve always written m/m in one form or another, long before it was even a genre. I used to sit at home penning my stories thinking I was the only girl ever who thought the idea of two men together was hot. This was long before the internet taught me otherwise. I do have a strong masculine side to my nature which doesn’t tend to emerge in real life but in my writing I can explore those facets of my personality which is why m/m romance is my perfect genre.

Q. I did have the joy of reading this book before publication and I love the characters. So, where did this story begin, with the characters or the plot?

A. Characters definitely. Without the characters there is no plot. In complete contrast to my first book, I wanted to try my hand at writing a much gentler, sweeter kind of romance. There’s plenty of sex, but unlike my first book, Stray, these characters are actually likeable. I hope.

Q. What things in life inspire you to write?

A. Good books, mostly. And places. I could certainly find inspiration on a Greek beach, or wandering the backstreet of Venice which I don’t do nearly often enough.

Q. Whilst you have only been published recently, I wonder, when did you first get an inkling that you could write and when did you first act on it?

A. I’ve always written. In school, English was my favourite subject. Although I’ve taken long breaks where I didn’t write anything at all, I always come back to it. I take my writing so much more seriously now and try to fit in around four hours a day. I say try because I rarely manage to make four hours. I waste far too much time on the internet for one thing and I can’t always pass that time off as research.

Q. What is a typical day for Ash Penn? Do you have set hours when you write or do you only get to hide under the stairs when life allows?

A. I tend to write mostly in the morning. I’m fortunate in that right now I can stay at home and write full time. This isn’t going to be a permanent thing so I’m making the most of it while I can. I’m also most of the way through an English degree. One more year to go.

Q. Tell me about your muse and are they in charge or do you manage to rein them in?

A. My muse and I don’t communicate well, which is why I take so long to write a story. I don’t tend to outline so I’m often taking wrong turns and writing myself into a corner. Sometimes my muse will throw me a map, more often than it’ll stand there laughing at me while I try to figure my own way out.

Q. When do you usually get plot motivation? How do you keep hold of those ideas before they disappear into thin air?

A. My characters dictate the plot and the ideas come along as I write. I’ll often make notes as ideas come to me. I keep a notebook by my bedside table for when the muse strikes in the middle of the night. If I don’t, the brilliant plot idea I had at 2AM evaporates by the following morning. To be fair though, in the harsh light of day I tend to find it wasn’t such a great plot point after all.

Q. What has been the most exhilarating moment to date in your writing career?

A. My first publication, closely followed by my second publication. Also, finishing my first book and sending it out into the world

Q. So, what’s next for Ash Penn? Any new stories in the pipeline you can share with us?

A. I’m working on a novel at the moment. I’ve been working on it for the past nine months. I keep saying it’s almost done, and this time I actually mean it. I don’t like to give out too many details but it’s a romance that takes place over the course of about ten hours. It’s actually quite difficult for two people to fall in love in such a short space of time, but I think my guys might just end the story with the start of something special between them.

Now some questions just for fun

Q. Looking back over your life what was your favorite year and why?

A. Writing related? 1999. The year of my first proper computer.

Q. Favorite movie and favorite movie quote?

A. I don’t really watch movies but I’ve always enjoyed the original Star Wars trilogy. The newer films I don’t like so much, actually not at all. ‘May the force be with you’ is not my favourite quote, by the way.

Q. If you were stranded on a desert island what book would you take to read and why?

A. The Complete Works of Jane Austen. I love her characterisation and witty observations.

Q. What is the stupidest thing you ever did?

A. Not working hard enough to get myself published years ago.

Thank you for coming Ash. Gees I think I’m going to have to turn the thermostat up. You poms sure do live in the cold.

Be sure to check out Ash’s new book at Loose Id and if you haven't read her first one you are really missing out on something special.

You can get your copy at Loose Id

Blurb
When world-weary Louis Duncan returns to the English town where he grew up, the last thing on his mind is finding love. He's come home to be at his estranged mother's side as she lies comatose in a hospital bed.

The always-sunny barman Jake Harvey yearns to offer Louis much more than a willing ear. After an evening of too much wine, too much Indian take-out, and too much of Jake's soft lips, Louis succumbs to the young man's charms. Jake proves to be a passionate lover as well as a loyal friend.

When his mother’s condition deteriorates, Louis leans on Jake to help him through the difficulty of another loss. The love of his life died two years before, but to Louis he remains every bit alive as Jake. He and Carter continue to chat, smoke together, even argue over whether Louis is living or merely existing. They do everything as they always did, except have sex. Now, despite Carter urging him to take the risk, can Louis give up his first real love and take his chances with the living?

Excerpt
Toward the end of yet another tedious day, Louis Duncan found himself wandering streets he’d not trekked in twenty years. Since his unexpected return to his hometown, he’d tried a variety of the pubs and bars that had sprung up along the High Street in his absence, but only one managed to draw his attention night after night.

The Prince of Wales public house had undergone a total transformation since the dark and dingy days of his youth. It was now a classy-looking modern bar called Harvey’s. Wood paneling and floor-to-ceiling windows had taken the place of the traditional beer-and-nicotine-stained walls Louis recalled as being off-limits to a teenager looking younger than his years.

The usual hum of voices permeated the low-level music as he entered the bar and approached the array of bottles. He took a moment to scan the various spirits, although he never ordered anything other than a large bourbon.

“Hey, Lou.” The barman, Jake, greeted him as though Louis had been a regular for years. “How’s your mum?”

Louis had spent most of the day at her side, the rhythmic chug and beep of the complicated machinery keeping him company. Occasionally a nurse would rustle up a coffee, and a doctor might pop in to update him on her progress, but apart from that the only conversation he’d shared these past couple of weeks was with a fresh-faced, eternally cheerful barman.

“No change,” he said, catching the faint nasal vowels of his own adopted New York accent.

Already the longed-for bourbon, a drink he had yet to order, sat before him. For all his youth, this guy knew how to keep his customers happy. Louis lifted the glass and swallowed the contents, savoring the thin heat flaming down into his belly.

“Another?” Jake asked, already reaching for the drained glass.

Louis smiled. For reasons unknown to himself, he always tried to arrange his features into an expression that might pass for pleasant with this particular guy. “Thanks, Jake.”

Jake returned the smile and then turned away to fetch the bourbon, affording Louis a prime view of plump ass. He wasn’t totally desensitized to the allure of a well-presented body.

“Cute,” Carter said softly, taking a perch on the stool next to Louis’s.

“I’m a little long in the tooth for cute.” Louis glanced at his lover, a handsome, smartly dressed man with a shock of sandy hair. Carter grinned, his gray eyes bright and mischievous, exactly like the man he was before the illness had yellowed his skin and ravaged his body to a wispy husk.

“You’re a little long in the tooth for spending yet another evening alone in a bar, but that doesn’t seem to bother you so much.”

Louis hunched forward on his stool. “Every day I get to sit by and watch the mother I haven’t spoken to in twenty years slip closer to death. I think I’ve earned myself a few lousy drinks, don’t you?”

“You don’t think you might have earned yourself more? A shot of that, perhaps?” Carter gestured to the barman on his return.

“Only you, my love,” Louis muttered as Jake set a fresh bourbon in front of him.

“Sorry?”

Louis glanced up to meet Jake’s curious gaze. “Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

“Is that something you do a lot?”

“More than I should.” Louis was long past caring whether he looked like a fool or a loon.

“Do you answer yourself too?”

Louis shook his head. “Now that would make me insane.” He tried another of his smiles, but his lips refused to tilt.

“Well, I’m here,” Jake leaned his arms on the bar, all traces of humor gone. “If you feel like talking to someone.”

Louis laughed. “Haven’t I bent your ear enough these past couple of weeks?”

“With that accent you can bend my ear any time you like.” Jake gazed at him, although to Louis it felt more like a stare. Did he expect an answer? A few more bourbons, and perhaps Louis might have one for him, but not tonight.

He downed his drink and reached for the wallet in his jacket pocket. “How much do I owe?” he asked in his best business voice.

Jake waved a hand. “On the house.”

“You think that’s a good idea?” Louis took out a note anyway. “I wouldn’t want you getting yourself fired because of me.”

“That’s not likely to happen. I have a very understanding boss.”

Louis set the note on the bar. “No boss is that understanding.”

“Mine is.” Jake slid the note right back. “Did I never tell you my last name?” He grinned. “It’s Harvey. My dad owns the place.”

He’d not mentioned it, but then Louis had no cause to ask. “Still, I’d rather pay what I owe.”

“I’ve got a better idea.” Jake took the ten pounds, folded it neatly, and leaned over to slot it into Louis’s shirt pocket. “Why don’t you repay my hospitality by taking me out sometime?”

He stroked a thumb across Louis’s nipple through the cotton. Louis pulled back as a jolt of pleasure tingled down his body.

What was this? Flirting? No. No, it was part of the job to amuse the sad fucks who visited bars alone in order to drink themselves senseless before bedtime.

Ghost Hunter by Paige Tyler

2011-03-15T03:00:00.000-07:00

Today I am happy to hand my blog over to the lovely Paige Tyler...take it away Paige.

I'm so excited to announce I have a new book out with Ellora's Cave! It's a paranormal romance called GHOST HUNTER, and it's got a hunky hero, a kick-ass heroine and a serial killing ghost that's scary as hell! Not to mention a smokin' hot cover!

I love when I come up with an idea for a book out of the blue, which is what happened with GHOST HUNTER. When I heard my local RWA chapter set up a lecture with a team of paranormal investigators, it got me thinking right away about writing a book about a ghost hunter. Because the chapter is far from where we live, though, we didn't actually go to the lecture. I was a little bummed about that, especially since they were giving out EMF detectors. On second thought, maybe it was better we didn't go. Ghosts freak me out, so having something that can detect them probably wouldn't be a good idea.

Enough about me, back to the story behind the story. While I knew the hero was a ghost hunter named Trace, I wasn't quite sure how the heroine fit into the story, or even who she was. So, my hubby and I played around with a few ideas at our local PF Chang's (we come up with a lot of story ideas there!) We both decided that having the heroine Cassidy need the hero's help because her house was haunted or something like that didn't seem original enough, so we made her a budding romance writer who tags along with the hero and his team to do some research. Like any good story, though, it had to have some conflict, which is why Trace and Cassidy completely rub each other the wrong way right from the beginning. Actually, he thinks he's a jerk. But don't worry, Cassidy discovers underneath that rough ghost hunter exterior, Trace is just the man she's been looking for. It doesn't hurt that he's hot!

Okay, so we had our hero and heroine. Now we needed a bad guy. That's where the ghost comes in. He's not your standard, everyday ghost, though. He's a serial killer who attacked Cassidy that comes back from the grrave to continue his string of grisly murders, and she's at the top of his list. To make things even more interesting, not only can he do all the regualar ghostly stuff like walk through walls and materialize out of thin air, he can also take solid form.

I'm not going to tell you any more than that, though. Don't want to give too much away, you know. I will add that my editor at Ellora's Cave told me she got so caught up in the story, she completely forgot she was reading a submission!

Now that you know the story behind the story, I think I'll tease you with an excerpt. Enjoy!

BLURB:

Almost getting murdered by a serial killer gives Cassidy Kincaide a new lease on life and convinces her to go ahead and tackle that ghost-hunter novel she's always wanted to write. So, she hooks up with a gorgeous paranormal investigator named Trace McCord to do some research.

Cassidy and Trace rub each other the wrong way right from the beginning, but they have to put aside their differences when the serial killer who attacked her comes back from the grave to continue his string of grisly murders, with her at the top of his list.

Trace has to keep Cassidy close to keep her safe, and as they try to stay one step ahead of the ghost while figuring out how to stop it, he and Cassidy end up in each other’s arms. While Trace has a whole list of reasons why he shouldn’t get involved with her, he finds himself falling in love with the beautiful blonde anyway. And even though Cassidy started out thinking he was a jerk, she learns that underneath the rough ghost hunter exterior, he’s just the man she’s always been looking for. Now, all they have to do, is live long enough to be together.

EXCERPT:

Trace was only a few miles from the address Robert had given him for Cassidy when his cell phone rang. At first he wasn’t going to answer it, but some sixth sense made him change his mind. Now he was glad he had.

He was about to disconnect the call when he heard a muffled scream on the other end of the line. It was quickly followed by a loud clatter, then nothing.

“Cassidy!”

No answer.

Trace felt his chest tighten. Swearing under his breath, he shoved his cell phone in the pocket of his jeans and floored the pedal on the Hummer, running a red light to get through the intersection. The other drivers honked their horns as they squealed to a stop, but he ignored them. There was no way he was going to let Cassidy die.

Five minutes later, he slid into the parking lot outside her apartment, running over an ornamental fence and a flower bed to come to a screeching halt a few feet from the front door. Jumping out of the Hummer, he ran around to the back and grabbed his duffel bag full of gear. Throwing it over his shoulder, he raced up the steps and charged through the door into the building, scaring the hell out of two women carrying laundry baskets.

“Where the hell are the stairs?” he demanded, not wanting to waste time with the elevator.

The women timidly pointed around the corner.

Trace didn’t thank them as he ran in that direction. He hit the steps hard, taking them hree at a time. Once on the fourth floor, he ran down the hall, checking the room numbers on he doors. When he came to the right one, he didn’t even bother to slow down. Instead, he icked the door in as hard as he could, reaching into his bag for his shotgun as the frame plintered and the door flew open.

He looked left and right as he entered the apartment, but there was no sign of Cassidy or el Vecchio. Trace’s blood ran cold at the scene that met his eyes. The living room looked s if a cyclone hit it. The couch and throw pillows were sliced to shreds, stuffing still floating hrough the air. The coffee table was lying on its side, as were the two end tables, and the amps that had been on them were smashed to pieces along with practically everything ele in the place. Even the walls had been slashed.

“Cassidy?” Trace called.

“In here.”

Trace followed the sound of her voice until he came to the kitchen. Cassidy was standing in the center of the room inside a wobbly drawn circle of salt, ready to throw a handful of something in his face. She sagged with relief at the sight of him, letting the stuff in her hand trickle out onto the floor. That was when he realized she was holding a big container of oregano.

“Is he gone?” she whispered.

Trace nodded. “Yeah, he’s gone. But I’m getting you the hell out of here anyway.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, but simply slung the shotgun over his shoulder by the strap, then walked into the kitchen and swung Cassidy up in his arms.

She put one of her own around his neck. “Is it safe for me to leave the circle?”

“Yes. I’ll keep you safe. Trust me.”

Apparently she must have believed him because she didn’t resist. She cuddled the container of oregano close to her body and leaned against his chest.

He frowned. “Cassidy, you did great with the salt circle. It saved your life without a doubt. But what are you doing with the oregano?”

She looked up at him with big, blue eyes. “Isn’t it what you used to get rid of ghosts?”

His mouth twitched. “That’s sage and garlic. You can ditch the spaghetti spice.”

“Oh,” was all she said. Resting her head on his shoulder, she let the container of oregano tumble to the floor, then put that arm around his neck, too.

Giving the place one more look to make sure Del Vecchio hadn’t come back, Trace carried her out of the apartment and right passed the alarmed neighbors who had come out into the hallway to see what the ruckus was all about. Trace imagined they got their money’s worth seeing a big guy with a shotgun and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder carrying a beautiful half-naked woman in his arms. He abruptly realized he probably should have taken a few minutes to let Cassidy grab some clothes. But then the lights in the hallway flickered and he decided he could get her clothes later. They were getting the hell out of there.

“Is she being kidnapped?” one elderly woman asked another in a low voice as he and Cassidy passed them.

“If she is,” said the other old woman, “then I want to want to be kidnapped next.”

Any other time, Trace would have laughed, but right now all he wanted to do was get Cassidy someplace safe. Fortunately, he knew exactly where to take her.

Watch the Trailer Here!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F7c6DgZ-fHs

Get your copy of GHOST HUNTER at Ellora's Cave!

http://www.jasminejade.com/m-615-paige-tyler.aspx

*hugs*
Paige

http://www.paigetylertheauthor.com

http://paigetylertheauthor.blogspot.com

Meet Debbie Vaughan

2011-03-01T01:21:00.000-08:00

Today I am delighted to be interviewing the wonderful Debbie Vaughan. Even better this interview is being simulcast over on Cornelle Keveen’s blog. Debbie had me on Cornelle’s couch a while ago and it seemed only right I return the favour. I am sure his post will be all singing and dancing, disco balls, flashing lights, loud music you know the gig. Well, that is assuming he has managed to rebuild the set. Last time we visited there was a little misunderstanding about what kind of grenade he wanted us to bring.

Hey, don’t blame me! The man said bring hand grenades, I brought hand grenades. How was I supposed to know he meant a drink? I barely remember that interview! He was the one who decided to juggle the damn things.

It was a simple mistake…anyone could of made it.

Exactly!

So, Debbie, before we start can you please empty your pockets.

How the Hell did those get in there?

Uh yeah, they will need to go in this bucket of sand.

Sorry, Leeann laid out my clothes.

*Puts bucket outside, smiles and pats the sofa* Now we are all safe, come and tell us a bit about yourself. How about a nice easy question to begin with?

Why am I worried?

As you know I am a huge fan of your writing.

Aw shucks, thanks! <big grin>

Whilst you are, as yet, unpublished, you have written three books in a series. Can you tell us a bit about the story and the characters?

Well let’s see…We have Constance Bennett, human. She’s had a rather tragic life but hasn’t let it get her down, much, except she’s sort of given up on the whole sex thing. She has a couple of real close friends and her paraplegic dachshund, Willy, to keep her company.

Then we have the new man-about-town, at least at night, Thomas Nathaniel Thornton. You’ll notice his initials are TNT, believe me, there’s a reason for that. He’s da bomb! :) He’s a mover and a shaker in the vampire community but deep down he’s a good ole’ boy with a Texas drawl and a large...belt buckle.

Belt buckle? Belt buckle? Is that a euphemism?

What did you think I was gonna say?

Well if you didn’t mean belt buckle you could have said – you know - we’re all adults here. But belt buckle it is *wink*

Last, but by no means least, is Rafael, Raf, to his friends. “Just Raf, like Cher.” My best description of him is a young Tony Curtis channeling Richard Simmons. Believe me the combination is lethal. He’s old as mud, gorgeous, gay and proud of it! Oh, and possibly the first vampire-- of course in my world just because it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck-- doesn’t mean it’s a duck. LOL

There are others in my cast but those are the A team.

Vampires live among humans, many like Tom, are the power behind those who rule the world and have been for ions. While a blood substitute has made it possible for them to make their presence known without much fear of reprisal, it leaves a little something to be desired. Okay, a LOT to be desired.
I should mention at this juncture another well known writer has used synthetic blood as a medium for her vampires to “come out of the coffin.” This is not a patent concept. Blood substitutes and extenders exist in the real world. They are of limited use in human medicine but have found some success in the veterinary community. See, I do research. :)

Vampires are a popular theme in the urban fantasy genre of late. Your books are not about your average vampires, so what makes them different?

Lots of things really. I suppose the first would be they are not the bad guys in my series but rather another misunderstood minority just trying to fit in with the “normal” folk. I also put a different slant on the whole vampire legend. What if vampires aren’t really demon spawn? What if they came from… shall we say, slightly higher origins, but had bought-in to the whole stereotypical vampire hype?

Have you always been drawn to the dark side?

Well, yes but not in the way you would expect. I adore the whole idea of “monsters” and things that go bump in the night. The flip side is they don’t frighten me. I have always felt an affinity for them. I root for King Kong, the hunchback, the Wolfman and especially the vampires in film and prose. They are so sensual, so tragic so, YUM! What’s not to love? ~~fans self~~ Is it hot in here? I think I’m having Frank Langella flashbacks…

If I hear noises under my bed I’ll know who to call then.

Why? You got Frank under there?

Moving right along, what things in life inspire you to write?

Everything! I think that’s part of being a writer, the least little thing sends your mind off on a tangent. Granted, I lived in my head a lot, especially as a child. My vivid imagination often runs away with me. Give me a “what if?” and I will give you a hundred scenarios for the situation. Is the man helping change the tire for the lady at the side of the road a good-Samaritan or a serial killer selecting his next victim? Will he be struck by a passing car forcing the lady to save him from the clutches of death by turning him vampire? Vampires pop-up a lot in my imaginings.

When did you first get an inkling that you could write, and when did you first act on it?

I used to make up stories to keep myself amused as a child. They often involved knights on white chargers coming to my rescue and were filled with talking animals.

When I got older and learned to read I was voracious. We had to write book reports for school and my teachers always selected mine to be read aloud. In high school I was blessed with two wonderful Literature teachers who thought I was gifted and urged me to pursue my passion. I had a few pieces published in the school paper but I never thought of making it a career. Life got in the way. But I kept reading! Then about thirty years ago I came up with the idea I could write a book, a romance, with time travel and a paranormal element.

The story was written in long hand, and ended up being about 150,000 words! (It was the era of the epic novel.) Oddly, the story generated some interest but none of the publishers could pigeon hole it. I was asked to remove the mystery, to focus on the romance, to make the setting all past or the present. Crossing genre lines wasn’t allowed then. I wasn’t willing to make those changes, so I shelved the idea.

You recently entered the Amazon Breakthrough Novel competition. I have read your entry and I love it. However I do know this is a rewrite of something your originally wrote many years ago. Looking back, how has your writing changed from when you first wrote it?

That’s true. Dare to Dream was the novel I wrote thirty years ago.

I suppose the biggest change to my writing has been to lose the purple prose. I read a lot of historical romance back then and purple was “in”. The Dare to Dream submitted to ABNA was only about 52,776 words, a third of what it was originally. I like to think my energies are more focused now. (It isn’t God but the Devil in the details!) I credit my critique group with helping sort the wheat from the chaff. Without ERA to guide and encourage me I might have thrown in the towel again.

The business end of writing is brutal.

I’m afraid Dare to Dream didn’t interest the ABNA panel. That’s not totally unexpected. While not erotica, it does carry a lot of heat and sensual content, so probably not the best fit for the contest. I have started schlepping it to publishers.

Now that you are not as young as you once were and not as old as you could be, do you think life experience has enriched your writing?

Absolutely! No matter what a writer may tell you, their own lives are reflected in their work. Now I’m not saying they have a hunk chained in the basement waiting to be flogged or a vampire under the floorboards in the closet, but the everyday goings-on sets the tone for what the characters do and how they relate to the reader. Perhaps I relate with my characters more than other writers. <shrugs> My heroine, Connie, is a very big part of me or perhaps, the other way round.

What is a typical day for Debbie Vaughan? Do you have set hours when you write or do you grab the time when you can?

I wish I could say yes. I like a set routine and thrive on order but that hasn’t been the case for the last few months. My life has undergone some major changes and I am still struggling to get everything in order. I have re-entered the workforce after thirty odd years which is thrilling and scary as hell!
My typical day starts at 5:30 am. I let the dogs out and go feed the horses. Then I feed the dogs, me, get ready for work and leave the house about 7:45. When I return from work, I repeat the morning chores and try to set things to rights, washing, cleaning house, yard work, that sort of thing. I check with ERA and do my weekly critiques and get to read all the stories before the rest of the world. Then I check critiques of whatever piece I have up.

When I’m working on a new piece, I tend to be absorbed by it and will often not leave the computer for hours. All ten of my dogs lie around and watch me pound away at the keyboard. Needless to say, these days most of my writing is accomplished on the weekend.

Are you working on anything at the moment?

Well, I’m trying to get Haven, the third book in the Legacy Series, through critique and I’ve just started book four. I have the title: Heaven and Earth!

Only the title?

Well, you have to start somewhere…

Gees, I’m exhausted just reading that. I may need to take a lie down on Cornelle’s couch once we’re done.

He did very well with the selection. Red chenille! Very posh and comfy. * Debbie bounces on the sofa*

I have heard you talk about your muse, so give me a description and tell me who is in charge, you or them?

I am totally at Raf’s mercy. He calls all the shots and is constantly surprising me. I had no idea he would be my muse, but from the moment he stepped into the scene, he took over. Don’t tell him, but his was supposed to be a minor role, sort of the comic sidekick. Now an entire series revolves around him, his relationship with Connie and Tom and how they’re linked. I hope everyone will get to meet him soon and, love him as much as I do.

You know I love him. What’s not to love about a flamboyantly gay Tony Curtis look alike?

My very thoughts! Oh, and he NEVER lies.

When do you usually get plot motivation? How do you keep hold of those ideas before they disappear into thin air?

At the most awkward times! I get a lot of them while I am driving or mowing the lawn. I bought one of those digital voice recorders, but all I could hear was engine noise. So, I try to hang onto them until I reach my notebook or computer. I have a file called “story notes” I stash them in. I don’t make outlines. Why bother when Raf will step in and change things anyway. I come up with an idea and he runs with it.

What has been the most exhilarating moment to date in your writing life?

Oh geeze, I've had several. The first was when I entered a grossly under edited Midnight Sun in the 2009 Get Your Stiletto in the Door Contest sponsored by the Chick-Lit Writers. I didn’t win, but I received a very high score and the judges loved my voice and characterization.   As an unknown, I can’t tell you what that validation did for my spirit. That same work is now being considered by two New York houses. While there is no guarantee either will accept it and offer a contract, knowing they think I am good enough to consider put me over the moon. I could probably leap the sun if they would contact me before I die.   LOL

I have also had the opportunity to meet one of the nicest authors on the planet, Ms. Charlaine Harris, who has been a huge inspiration for me and through her board another author, Amber Green. She asked if I would like to join ERAuthors. What was she thinking?

One of the things that inspires me most about you is your attitude. No matter how many times you get a knock back you pick yourself up and soldier on. I am sure there is a publisher out there that will publish your books but that’s easy for me to say. How do you stay motivated despite the setbacks?

I try to put a happy face on it, but I get depressed like everyone else. I learned a long time ago if you dwell in your misery, misery is all you will have.

This is a very difficult industry to break into, especially now with the digital revolution.

When I first sent Dare to Dream out thirty years ago. I sent the full manuscript. No one wanted a synopsis or query letter, they wanted to see the finished work. And, they sent it back with suggestion and notes in the margins! Those times are long gone.

Now everything seems to hang on a couple of well written sentences.   If you can’t write a great tag line it doesn’t matter how good the manuscript may be, they’ll never ask for it. The big houses no longer accept unsolicited work; you have to have an agent. That is harder than it sounds. Agents seem to be in a holding pattern, waiting to see which way the wind will blow with e-books. It’s frustrating and requires a lot of patience. Something I have in short supply.

One of my favorite authors is Laurell K. Hamilton. In one of her old blogs she stated she had to send her first Anita Blake manuscript, Guilty Pleasures, out over two hundred times before she found someone willing to take a chance on her. I have had a lot of rejections, but I am nowhere near her mark! Yet.
You need more than talent to become a successful author. You need a thick skin, perseverance and patience but more than anything else, you have got to believe in your work.

Obviously people can’t buy your books but I do know you have a number of free reads available. Where can people go to read them? And discover the joy that is the imagination of Debbie Vaughan.

I have a website: www.debbievaughan.com where you can find some snippets of my manuscripts as well as reviews and excerpts from some of my author friends. There is also a link: Get Bit by My Free Reads which will redirect you to my Blogger site: http://www.getbit-bymyfreereads.blogspot.com/
I have a novella called Tom’s Story which will give you a more detailed look at my series hero. There is also a short story titled, Query This Sucker! Memoirs of an Angry Author, a tongue-in-cheek look at my publishing frustrations. Just click the title is the subject bar.

Now some questions just for fun…

Should I be worried?

Looking back over your life what was your favorite year and why?

1978 and I’m not telling LOL *grin*

You’re the second person who has answered that question and refused to say why. Am I sensing a conspiracy?

My lips are sealed.

Favorite movie and favorite movie quote?

Gone With the Wind: “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn!” I also like when Rhett scoops Scarlet up and tells her …well never mind.

Maybe you’d better change the subject?

Okay, if you were stranded on a desert island what book would you take to read and why?

Besides Gone With the Wind?   *Debbie flips her hand and raises a brow*

Something to make me laugh. Any of MaryJanice Davidson’s Undead series, except the last one! The last one makes me crazy. Or any of Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plums. Or, there is this Aussie writer who cracks me up…her name is on the tip of my tongue. Oh yes, Lillian Grant! I love Happy Birthday, Nancy Tobin. I understand you have another comedy, Male Order, guaranteed to keep me in stitches and I can’t wait to get my hands on Speak to Me of Abduction.

What is the stupidest thing you ever did?

Stayed married to the wrong man for 38 years. Luckily, I recently got over it.

I guess it was an easy mistake to make.

Let’s just say my best and worst quality is my unyielding loyalty and leave it at that, shall we?

Thanks for having me. We need to do this again real soon, only the next time I’ll be Debbie Vaughan, New York Times Best Selling Author!

*Gets up and hugs Debbie.*

Is that a Glock in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?

Dammit! I’m gonna kill Leeann when I get home.

*Debbie stuffs three hand grenades into the pocket of her slacks.*

Do these make my butt look big?

Hunh!

::A disturbance offstage gives prelude to a very well timed interruption::

“What do you mean I can’t go out there? Hmpht. Here read this and get outta my way. Yeah. That’s what I thought you said and the name’s Cornelle Keveen.”

:: That Big Easy glide distinguishes his stride onto the stage.::

Yeah, I bet you two weren’t expecting to see me here in one piece were you? Zip it Debs and make sure you take those hand grenades with you this time.

Lillian, quit trying to look innocent. It ain’t working for you.

For those of you reading this in the dark, I’ll bring you up to speed. These two women are destructive guests. That’s all I can tell you. If you want to know more, drop by my blog and read their last appearance there.

I loved the interview ladies. Ms. Vaughan’s mystery has been revealed at last. Good job Lillian. It was rather amusing to see her squirm.

I wanted to sneak in on you two to plug a new concept over in the new studio that my lawsuit against you will finance. It’s called “On the Character’s Couch.”

Readers will get to delve into the minds of both Author and their lead characters as they sit down across from one another for a little interaction that you will only find at Cornelle Keveen’s space.

I know. It’s kinda brilliant huh? And just think. I owe it all to Lillian’s misdirection and Debbie’s misinterpretation.

::Hands them both their legal notices with a kiss, a pinch, and a wink.::

You’ve both been served Big Easy Style. ‘Whoa Nah Ya Heard Me?’

Cue the band. I’m outta here.

What the f…? Did I ask him to juggle? I don’t think so! Call my attorney! No, wait…Call Leeann. <Maniacal laughter fills the studio.>

*Lillian shakes her head and sighs* I really need to get a better class of guests around here.

Back in the Closet

2011-02-11T16:56:00.000-08:00

Today I am thrilled to be able to share an interview with the multi talented David Kentner AKA KevaD. Under his pseudonym David has published two fantastic stories with Noble Publishing and his third Back in the Closet is due out on Valentines Day.
You can find all of David's books here at Noble Publishing.

This is book two in the series. I loved book one and just wondered if life had got any easier for Chaz, Mike and The Cat Too?

A. Not at all. Mike's as loveably crazy and devoted to Chaz as ever. TCT discovers hunting can be fun, and that Chaz hates snakes. Chaz has to confront some issues from his childhood, though.

In the end, Chaz is a much better man for it and understands and appreciates just how special Mike really is in his life.

As for Mike, he'll get over that he couldn't keep an Amish as a souvenir of their time on the farm…eventually.

Please tell me your real life is nothing like the lives of Chaz and Mike

A. Okay. My real life is nothing like the lives of Chaz and Mike.

I know male/male romance wasn’t something you had written before you created book one, so what inspired you to try a new genre?

A. The critiquing group, ERAuthors, you and I are a part of. As you well know, there are some amazing writers there, and you're one of them. They challenged me and gave me the self-confidence to explore new venues and genres. Out of the Closet, written and contracted with a publisher in just three months, was the result.

I'd probably still be unpublished if it wasn't for ERAuthors.

I am a big fan and have read a lot of your work. Your stories all vary in plot and genre but the one thing I noticed about all of them is how you take time to paint your characters. Are they what comes to you first when you start a book or is it the plot?

A. Thank you! I'm such a fan of yours, your saying that means the world to me.

Usually, for me, it's an initial concept. In Sunday Awakening, the entire story formed around the words "Sundays are like that sometimes." The tag developed from those five words. The plot itself went through several variations until the character Cheryl stepped forward. Once she appeared, I was a goner. I had to tell her story. But she required a very special man to fall in love with. If anyone ever takes the time to really dissect the story's hero, Taylor Hughes, (and I have no idea why they would) they will find Taylor is simply Cheryl in the male persona. That's why he was so easy to write.

Out of the Closet sprang from the tag, "Chaz never once thought the day he came out of the closet no one would be home . . . except the cat. And he was neutered."

Likewise, Back in the Closet came from it's own tag line.

Obviously, the tag lines are, and remain, my original, core thoughts that give birth to the story and thusly the characters.

An exception is a novel I've had on hold for a while now, The Hummingbird, which I'll get back to working on once my current project is finished. The Hummingbird was created from the character Krisah, an orphan surviving in the sewers. I was conducting research for another work in progress when Krisah stepped into my imagination and told me his story. It's a tale too compelling not to write.

All of your books have wonderful humor in them. The tag line for Sunday Awakening, for example, is just brilliant and when you get to the point in the story where Cheryl is living the moment it seems like such a normal reaction, for her. Does the humor come naturally to you in everyday life or is it something your characters bring to the page?

A. Basically, I'm a sarcastic prick.

Honestly, I've been around a lot of people faced with conditions so extreme I don't know if I could survive with the dignity and grace they have. The one commonalty they all shared is the ability to find and give away a smile. My characters and people I have known inspire whatever humor I have.

I also used to drink a lot. People are really funny when you're snockered.

What things in life inspire you to write?

A. People. The human race is amazing. No matter what difficulties and horrors are inflicted on people, when they have been beaten down and have nothing left, they will put their arms around a total stranger and say, "I'm here. Lean on me." How can we not be inspired by that?

Whilst you have only been published recently, I wonder, when did you first get an inkling that you could write and when did you first act on it?

A. I'll never be convinced I "can" write, but I've been trying since before I learned the alphabet. My first story was lines and squiggles in crayon on paper. I wrote it for my mother two years ago. To tell the truth, I can’t recall a year in grade school I didn’t write a story the teacher didn’t read to the class. In high school I had a poem and short story published in a local magazine. I had every intention of becoming an English teacher and writer – life disagreed and it's only been in the last few years I've enjoyed the opportunity to return to my love of writing.

What is a typical day for KevaD? Do you have set hours when you write or do you only get to hide under the stairs when life allows?

A. When life and wife permit. I try to hide from my wife, but the three-legged cat tells her where I am. He gets upset because he wants to use the litter box and there isn’t room for both of us.

I have heard you talk about your muse, so give me a description and tell me who is in charge, you or them?

A. The muses are definitely in charge. One is female. She offers gentler stories and helps hone works in progress. Her specialty is refining plots and character motivation. The male is a bit sadistic. He enjoys murder and revenge. The things he whispers in my ear are terrifyingly mouthwatering. I've been sketching out a storyline he's been pushing. It's disgustingly interesting.

When do you usually get plot motivation? How do you keep hold of those ideas before they disappear into thin air?

A. Anytime I am alone or my wife is asleep. More than once I've pulled over to the side of the road and jotted down notes. I joke about my best story concepts coming while I'm mowing the lawn, but there's a lot of truth in that. The engine noise blocks out extraneous sound and I can lose myself in my thoughts for the five to six hours it takes to mow our yard. When I'm finished, I sit down at the computer.

What has been the most exhilarating moment to date in your writing career?

A. Truthfully, being accepted in to ERAuthors. To have a group of superior writers welcome me into their fold was humbling and exciting. I'm totally in awe of the stories these people create. I keep saying it because it's true – I wouldn't be published if not for ERAuthors.

The two previous moments were my first story being accepted by a magazine (Faraway Journal) and placing fourth in a national fiction competition (Mensa's Calliope magazine).

As well as writing stories you also devote yourself to supporting others. I know you run great interviews on your blog for example. What else do you do to give back to the writing community?

A. The blog interviews are actually the unedited versions of interviews I conduct for GateHouse News Service, an agency that distributes stories to newspapers across the country. It's true I don't receive any pay for writing my weekly column. I do it because I love to write, and if my love of writing helps promote other authors, regardless of genre, we all win. I'll pretty much help anyone, anytime with their writing, though I learned the hard way that I need to be a tad more selective. More than once I've spent hours on end trying to help improve and hone a story, only to discover the writer had no intention of ever trying to see it published.

So, what next for KevaD? Any new stories in the pipeline you can share with us?

A. I'm wrapping up my latest novel Whistle Pass, a MM intrigue tale with a strong romantic thread set in 1955. It's a complex story with loads of twists and turns set in a time when our government openly considered homosexuality a mental disorder and treatment included lobotomies and court ordered commitment to insane asylums. I should be ready to try and find Whistle Pass a home in about a month, if all goes well.

Krisah and The Hummingbird have really been insisting I return to that story.

And my male muse's story of betrayal and revenge refuses to go away, so I better do something with that one, too, before he inflicts some of the torture on me he has planned for characters in the novel.

Oh, yeah. SonRise. Can’t forget SonRise. That WWII intrigue novel is nearing completion of revisions before I try to find it a home also.

Now some questions just for fun

Looking back over your life what was your favorite year and why?

A. 1978 – It has a nice ring to it.

Favorite movie and favorite movie quote?

A. Yellowbeard – that movie is insane and full of unforgettable lines.

Yellowbeard: She couldn't be your mother. No woman ever slept with me and lived.

Yellowbeard: Who're you talkin' about?

Betty: The fruit of your loins, sugar drawers.

Yellowbeard: Are you mad, woman? I haven't got fruit in my loins! Lice, yes, and proud of 'em!

Betty: When little Dan came along...

Yellowbeard: Who's Dan?

Betty: My and probably your son!

If you were stranded on a desert island what book would you take to read and why?

A. Kama Sutra – there's bound to be a knothole in a tree somewhere.

Seriously – the Boy Scout Handbook. That book contains everything anyone needs to survive – and it has pictures. Gotta have pictures. Tying a square knot's a bitch without pictures.

What is the stupidest thing you ever did?

A. Legally?

Legally, it was as a police officer. There was this behemoth tearing up a place. I was the commander of the night shift at the time and my officers called for me to come to the scene. They had a standoff going with this monster. I walked in and the gentleman shouts, "You think you can arrest me?"

I was having a really, really bad night. So, gathering all the stupidity I could find, I took off my cap and gun belt and said, "Yeah."

It wasn't pretty.

Or did you want the truth?

Be sure to check out David's new book on the 14th at Noble Publishing and if you haven't read the first one you are really missing out on something special.

Blurb
Sometimes the best-laid plans don't mean you get laid.
Chaz and Mike are inaugurating their life together as an openly gay couple. Bliss is inevitable, until a dead relative rises up and brings their plans to a screeching halt.
Chaz's not-so-dearly departed Amish Uncle Silas has bequeathed his nephew his farm . . . and a $60,000 tax bill if Chaz doesn't play by the rules.
With empty wallets, the duo and their kitten, TCT, head off for Iowa to live on the farm for ninety days - without electricity or plumbing . . . or sex.
While Mike finds trees to climb, horses to ride, and a big ax to play with, and TCT discovers a wide array of critters to chase and capture, Chaz faces a past veiled in mystery.
As a young boy, Chaz spent time on the farm. Why can't he remember the giant oak tree or the ancient barn? Each time he tries to enter the barn, terror stops him cold.
Chaz will need courage he's never had before, along with all the strength in his partner's lusciously muscled body, to solve the riddles plaguing him. Keeping Mike and his axe from chopping off the wrong piece of lumber might not be a bad idea, either.
Excerpt:
"Chaz, it's a dick, not a birthday candle." Mike rolled his eyes.
This wasn't working out at all like I'd thought it would. It had become painfully obvious the best-laid plans didn't always mean you got laid.
I looked up from between Mike's muscled thighs. The un-bottled perfume of his heat and pearly drops of natural lubricant hung in the air. "Then why do they call it a blowjob?"
I certainly didn't know. I'd bruised myself the first time I tried to beat off. The epiphany - and me - came when I massaged my swollen member to ease the pain.
He flopped his head onto the pillow and rubbed his brow in an attempt to stave off the obvious headache. "I don't know, man. Why do they call showing somebody your ass, 'shooting the moon?' The moon doesn't have a butt crack through the middle of it."
The size of the monster in my hands set my tongue on a collision course with my quivering nerves. "Actually, it has nothing to do with the moon. Well, not in the classic idiom of the earth's singular satellite. The terminology relates to the concept of bringing darkness into the light. The adage purportedly has historical references as far back as Adonis. You see, Adonis, by popular opinion, somewhere along the line became confused, intertwined if you will, with a nonexistent god named Adidas. Thusly, Adidas holds reference to 'false identify,' which in turn may, at times, depending on the debate, also mean 'to bring out the reality of that concealed.' In layman's vocabulary, 'shooting the moon' is a primitive means of revealing something previously hidden. I can explain it further if it would help?"
His left hand joined his right in massaging his temples. "No. I've got it. Thanks."
A muffled shriek rose from my throat. "You're losing your erection!"
"Ya think?" Rolling onto his side, he patted the black silk sheets. "Come up here and lay with me."
Begrudgingly, I obliged him. It was to be our first time. Not just as a couple, but as an openly gay couple. Two virginal homosexuals surrendering our homosexual virginity to each other. A beautiful, life-changing experience, and I'd blown it . . . sort of.
Mike pulled me in close. Even had I wanted to resist, which I didn't, the strength of the high-rise construction worker wouldn't have allowed me to. Tall and lean, the man's muscles had muscles.
His abs weren't washboard, they were those warning strips the street department puts down to wake up drivers so they don't cruise through a stop sign. I swear his eyelids could lift as much weight as my spindly arms could. I leaned against telephone poles. Mike climbed them - upside down.
Warm, wet, his lips pressed a kiss onto my throat. My cock responded with a few drops of its own wetness, then shuddered and throbbed when his hand engulfed it.
"Let me show you how it's done." The words, throaty, all man, thrust more blood into my erection than I thought it could handle. My testicles tightened when he dotted my chest with kisses, a trail of wanting to my waist.
"Mrrrrowwww. Ssssss."
The Cat Too. TCT for short. A tuxedo kitten Mike had given me, the traitorous creature had abandoned me for Mike. Sat on his shoulder like a parrot.
"Ssssss."
I'd put it out of the bedroom. If it was going to throw a hissy fit every time Mike and I made - tried to - make love, we needed another plan.
Bzzz, bzzz, bzzz, bzzz. The doorbell? Great. Just fricking wonderful.
The moment, and my erection, waning, Mike rolled onto his back and sighed. "You get the impression this isn't supposed to happen today?"
"There's always tonight." I whispered, kissed his forehead, then tumbled off the bed. Slipping into gray flannel shorts and a T-shirt, I opened the bedroom door. There stood TCT, back arched, tail perpendicular, eyes focused towards the entrance to our apartment. He hadn't thrown a fit about us, he'd known before the bell rang somebody was at the door.
"Good, kitty." I stroked his back. He responded by wrapping his fur ball body around my hand, sank needle-sharp teeth and claws into my skin, then left me bleeding while he bolted through the doorway and scrambled up the covers to lie next to Mike.
My cat. Yeah, right.
Wounded, both in body and spirit, I opened the front door.
"Chaz Westerbrook?" the woman asked - in a baritone voice.
"Yes?" I scoured the face. Nothing about it held any familiarity. Either as a male or female. The orange bouffant looked nice, in a Folies-Bergere sort of way. The Adam's apple had a point capable of popping balloons. He was tall enough, that's where my line-of-sight rested.
"Would you autograph this for me? Please?"
In his hand he held a copy of my debut novel, "A Kiss From the Shadows," the first book of my gay love trilogy. A fan. My chest and ego swelled with pride.
"Certainly." Taking the novel from him, I asked, "Do you have a pen?"
He unbuttoned the top three buttons of his lavender paisley sundress and pulled a pen out of his black lace bra.
I opened the cover. "Who would you like it to?"
"Jasmine. If you don't mind?"
His smile was priceless. Really. All of the teeth were capped in gold with diamond insets on the canines. I didn't want to ask why. He might have told me.
"To Jasmine," I said aloud. "You will always be in my thoughts. Chaz." It was true. How could I forget him? His chest was hairier than TCT. I handed the book back to him. "Have you ever considered filling in your cleft? You remind me of a young Kirk Douglas." I left out the part about a young Kirk Douglas crossbred with King Kong.
"I get that a lot." He embraced the book to his chest, licked it – yuck – and opened a lime green shoulder bag. "You seeing anyone?" The long-lashed, brown eyes looked a little too hopeful.
"Yeah, snow cone." The growl came from behind me. "He's in a relationship, so hit the bricks."
"Well," he huffed. "In that case . . . ." The book went in the bag. When he withdrew his hand, a sheaf of papers thumped against my chest.
"You've been served."
He spun on a heel with an exaggerated swish of the loose-fitting dress and sauntered to the waiting elevator. "Your book sucks dingleberries by the way."
A whirlwind of heated anger shoved past me. "I'm gonna kick his ass."
"Mike. Mike!" I couldn't grab his shirt, because he didn't have one on. So, I grabbed the waistband of his shorts.
Men - really, really, well-built men - have this indentation in their firm little butts. I wanted to glue my cheek in Mike's when the shorts ripped off in my hands. Damn, the man was so built.
A black and white streak of fur shot past us and into the elevator just as the door closed. Shit. This wasn't over.
I'd made it a third of the way to the stairs when Mike slammed into the stairwell. By the time I hit the first landing, his one flight, one-step cadence had him on the ground floor.
When I arrived in the lobby, a woman stood in front of Mike, offering him her card. But by where her eyes were focused, had the police asked for a description of the naked man, she'd probably only been able to say, "Six inches by two inches limp."
I could attest to the fact, erect, it more than doubled that. Hence my nervousness in the bedroom. The thought of Mike's love tool nailing my virgin ass scared the beejeezus out of me.
TCT, asleep in Mike's arms, purred his contentment.
"Where's Jasmine?" I asked, though more than a bit concerned of what the answer might be.
"Garbage can out front. And the tranny ain't no tranny." Mike headed for the elevator.
"Call me," the woman cried out. "The number's on the card. On the card. My number?"
She caught me at the door. "What happened to his nipple?"
"Cat bit it off."
In disbelief, she slapped my arm. "Seriously, what?"
Truth was, TCT's predecessor, The Cat, bit the thing off. "Last woman he screwed got so excited she ripped it right off with her teeth. He carries hers in his wallet."
I left her to mull it over and went outside.
Jasmine was trying to push his way out of the curbside can. The dress bunched at his waist exposed a pair of denim mid-thigh shorts. I grabbed his legs and jerked him out.
"Thanks," he heaved. I didn't pull the used condom off his forehead or the brown lettuce leaf out of his hairdo. In Jersey, such things were to be expected in trashcans.
"You've got shorts on under your dress." Pissed, I gave him my best slanty-eye look along with a droop-mouth frown.
"Hey," he mumbled, shrugging. "Whatever gets me to the mark so I can get the papers served."
Oh, yeah. Boiling piss mad. "You're not a fan of my writing?"
He pulled the book out of his bag. "This crap? I wouldn't read this if you paid me."
I snatched the book from his grasp, did a three sixty, and smacked him in the face with it. He fell unconscious against a parked car, setting off the alarm.
"Bitch." I hissed, and walked back into the apartment building.
The woman stalked me all the way to the elevator. "What's his name?"
"Rock Hard, the actor." The doors closed over my lie.
"I knew I recognized him!" She screamed her false victory so everybody could share in her stupidity. "Tell him to call me!"
* * * * *
Mike flopped down on the couch next to me.
"So, what's up?"
I leafed through the papers. "I have to be in court tomorrow to confirm my tax-exempt status before being awarded my uncle's farm in Haven Glenn, Iowa."
"Your uncle? You've never mentioned him."
"Yeah. I know." Nobody ever talked about crazy Uncle Silas for fear his insanity might be contagious. "He died a while back, and it looks like he left me his farm."
"Why? You his favorite nephew or something?"
Not having an answer, I shook my head. I didn't get this at all. "No. He refused to speak to me after 'A Kiss From the Shadows' hit the bookstores. Wasn't a big fan of gay unless it involved nubile virgins, ribbons, and a Maypole."
"What's this tax-exempt status thing about?"
"I have no idea, Mike. I'm as much in the dark here as you are."
He sighed and leaned into the cushions. "I guess you're gonna be gone a while?"
"I don't know. Maybe. Come with me. I don't want to go without you."
"Nah. You can do your writing and accountant job from your computer. The union isn't gonna buy my disappearing overnight. I can come when they clear my request for some time off. That good enough?"
I laced my fingers through his and smiled. "Yeah. Good enough. I'm going to miss you until then."
"One thing." His brow dipped. Something appeared to trouble him.
"What is it?"
"Where is this place?"
"Haven Glenn?"
"No. Iowa."
"It's . . . ." I had to think. Iowa wasn't exactly on a New Jersey boy's lists of sights to see before he died. "I'll get my laptop. Maybe Google can find it."

Speak Like an Australian Day

2011-01-25T22:23:00.001-08:00

Today, January 26^th, is Australia day, a day when Aussies celebrate the arrival in 1788 of the First Fleet of eleven convict ships from the UK. The day the British flag was raised and occupation of the eastern half of our continent began. England’s largest jail was born.

Now, whilst this may be a minor event on the planetary calendar, not coming close to the Superbowl or Macey’s Christmas Parade, I still think the world should pause, reflect and celebrate with the inhabitants of the world’s largest island.

If Disney’s reinterpretation of the Pirate genre can give birth to ‘Speak like a Pirate Day’ then surely something as monumental as Australia Day should garner a similar response. Therefore I think this holiday should be renamed, ‘speak like an Aussie day.’

To help you all get in the swing of it I shall endeavour to give you the heads up on the most useful Aussie expressions and pronunciations. Now any of you who watched that movie with Meryl Streep where she declared, “a dingo ate my baby” are at a disadvantage…we really don’t sound like that.

First things first, an Australian will tell you they come from Austraya, note the word has a silent L.

When meeting an Austrayan the native will greet you with, G’day mate, which is the universal acknowledgment of your existence and acceptance as friend rather than foe.

If he offers you a ‘snag’ do not be offended or concerned, he is merely offering you a sausage, usually from the barbie.

The average Austrayan will pepper his language with words that may appear profane to the uninitiated. For example if he calls you a bastard it is a usually a term of endearment, unless you happened to let slip some unfortunate information about your parentage. Oh bugger, denotes that something has clearly gone wrong. If an Aussie were to drive into the back of your vehicle with his Ute (a car with a tray on the back instead of rear passenger seats and a trunk) his first response would usually be ‘oh bugger.’

Austrayans have many affectionate terms for those they love, mate, cobber, and dag. Dag being reserved for the times when your mate is being stupid. If you spill beer down yourself and make an Aussie laugh he may well call you a dag. Should you hasten to Wikipedia for a translation you may be insulted to discover the word dag denotes a fly blown, shit encrusted piece of wool hanging below a sheeps butt, however, to an Australian it is an acknowledgment that you are just plain stupid.

Clothing here has it’s own names. At the beach, the male of the species can be seen wearing budgie smugglers, you may call them a banana hammock or perhaps swimming trunks. Dacks are pants and underdacks, are obviously underwear. Women have been known to wear frocks and men singlets rather than wife beaters. A skivvy is a roll neck jumper and thongs go on your feet.

As well as their being generic words recognized the country over, each state has its own nuances. For example should you meet an Austrayan who ends every sentence with ahy, thus turning every comment into a question, you can be assured you are in the company of a Queenslander. Should your tame Aussie keep telling you everything is grouse then you are the proud owner of a Victorian.

Having lived here for many years I have learned to understand and even mimic the Aussie so well that I have blended into my habitat. I grew up in the UK but became an Austrayan citizen as soon as time allowed, there is no where else in the world I would choose to call home, despite the drought, flooding and kookaburras who seem greatly amused by something in the trees outside my bedroom window at 5.30 in the morning. Although I do like Paris, maybe I could do Paris. Hmmm.

A Reader's Review

2011-01-06T20:46:00.000-08:00

I have been very slack of late in updating my blog. Life got in the way. We are in the midst of renovating our laundry and I have been madly editing a novel called 'Male Order,' about a girl who accidentally becomes a pimp to a male prostitute.

Meanwhile, Happy Birthday, Nancy Tobin, has been getting some rave reviews from readers on Goodreads including this one posted by Mrs. Missive.

Let me start of by saying that this book shocked the heck outta me. Aside from the A-hole hubby and the overwhelming desire to off herself, I had a scary similar life situation to Nancy(our newly 40 heroine).

Nancy has a job she hates, a life she doesn't know how to change and the sudden interest of a hot college stud named Jake.

Jake decides he just wants to make Nancy smile. Well what better way to make a woman smile than boinking her brains out? Hell, sounds like the right idea to me.

Now I know you are thinking, "Hold up! She's married!" But trust me a few pages of her husband and you'd boink the hottie too.

I felt a real connection with the characters in this book, and I could not put it down until I found out if Nancy got the HEA she deserved. And I have to say the ending sentence is the absolute best I have ever read. I've never quoted the end of a book, because I'm not a spoiler sally, but this ending is beyond quotable.

The only problem I had in this book for awhile were Nancy's waffling on her belief that Jake could want her. This breaks my cardinal rule of, "if you are boinking a hottie, you aren't aloud to have body issues". However Nancy's growth as a character, and the inner strength that is brought out in her completely redeemed her for me.

This was a true spicy romance novel. Loved it. So glad I won the copy, highly recommend to erotica and romance readers alike. 5 stars.

Unusual locations for a sexual liason

2010-12-28T00:09:00.000-08:00

Find me today guest blogging at Smutketeers where I am talking about unusual places to have sex. Leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of Happy Birthday, Nancy Tobin.

Smutketeers

Non consensual sex in romance novels

2010-12-16T01:19:00.000-08:00

Hi, everyone! I’m KS Brown, and I’m so honored that Lillian invited me to be a guest on her blog! You’ve never heard of me because none of my books have been published yet, but I’m working toward that goal every day. I write steamy paranormal romances about weredragons and day walking vampires and the bad guy organization that wants to exterminate them. But enough about me…

Lately, I’ve been wondering when rape became sexy. Oh, I know there are people who get off on rape fantasy, and I get that. No problem. What I do have a problem with is when romance and erotica authors write thinly disguised rape as sex scenes.

I’m sure you know the ones I’m talking about. Where the hero insists on sex despite whatever level of objection the heroine raises. Then, the heroine either decides she likes it, or that he’s not really hurting her, or whatever, and goes on to fall in love with him.

It’s normally justified in some way, so the reader might not always see the hero as a rapist. He’s from a different culture, so his standards of behavior are different. He lost control, because he just wants her soooo much, or he loves her soooo much, or some other reason.

I’ve seen these scenes in everything from old historical romances, to BDSM erotica, and nearly everything in between. The result for the reader can be as simple as being turned off by the story, to as serious as making them think that behavior is the norm and expecting it in their own relationships. It also perpetuates the common myth that participants in certain kinks are either abused or abusers. The debate on whether or not authors should bear the social responsibility to accurately portray such things is a subject for another time.

Many authors, probably most, don’t resort to this kind of thing. They do the work to ensure that both parties thoroughly enjoy themselves, and consent to the act. In my opinion, these non-consensual sex scenes are poor, lazy writing, a way for the author to add conflict without working for it. If the author cares so little about her characters, why should I as a reader care about them enough to read their story?

As a reader, I read romance and erotica to get lost in the story, the fantasy, of the relationship. If the author includes non-consensual sex between the main characters, I don’t buy any more of her books. If it’s in a newer book, I try to contact the author to let her know I was disappointed and why.

So, authors, please, take the time to make sure your characters enjoy the sex and consent to it. Your readers will thank you.

Find out more about my guest at her website and her blog

Guest Blogging

2010-12-13T12:17:00.000-08:00

Today I am guest blogging at Inez Kelley's site. Discussion has turned to strange names for the male member. Drop by a leave a comment to win a free copy of my book.

Inez Kelley

Visiting Today

2010-12-12T12:58:00.000-08:00

Today the lovely Ali Katz has Nancy featured on her Love Songs website. Ali delved into my innermost thoughts seeking out where the ideas for my characters came from. She also has a new, never seen before excerpt from the book. Why not check it out and say hi.

Love Songs

Find out all my secrets

2010-12-08T03:05:00.001-08:00

Today I am being interviewed on Debbie Vaughan's blog. Stop by if you want to find out all my deepest darkest secrets.

You can find it here. Get bit by my free reads.

Another Great Review for Happy Birthday Nancy Tobin

2010-12-03T12:48:00.001-08:00

Joyfully Reviewed have given a great review of Happy Birthday Nancy Tobin.

Check it out here Joyfully Reviewed

A new free read on Some Write it Hot

2010-12-03T03:14:00.000-08:00

Want some great free reads? Then check out the following links to my group blog, Some Write it Hot.

Gato Negro by Ali Katz is a fantastic read. If you like sexy shape shifters you won't be disappointed.

Read it here.

And another fantastic read by up and coming Debbie Vaughan is also on the blog. If you love hot vampires then you simply have to read it. I love Tom and can't wait for her to post another update.

Read it here.

Lovely shiny and new

2010-12-01T12:30:00.000-08:00

As you can see, if you had venture here before, my site has had a makeover. I have a nice new header and lots of pretty colours.

Now the site is looking so good I intend to shift blogging over here and leave my website as a website. So on the weekend I shall finish the tidy up and get this new blog on the road.

I'm Back

2010-10-10T02:00:00.000-07:00

We had a fabulous trip to Melbourne. It had changed beyond recognition since we lived there but it was fun catching up with family and chilling at the beach for a couple of days. The weather wasn't suitable for sunbathing but it was warm enough to sit out on the balcony and watch the waves roll in.

I arrived back to discover I have taken another step on my publication career path. Having subbed my novel, Speak to me of Abduction to Carina Press a while ago I was delighted to receive an email asking for a rewrite and resubmit. No guarantee of publication but an editor thinks it has enough merit to ask me to try to make it something they would want to publish.

Maybe going back to the day job tomorrow won't seem so bad after all.

A chance to win my book for free

2010-10-02T03:54:00.000-07:00

After a very hectic week at work and with the launch of Nancy I am off for a week to Melbourne. It's a big birthday for my lovely husband on Wednesday so we decided to travel back to the place we first emigrated to in Australia.
Whilst I'm gone their will be lots of exciting posts on our group website
Some Write it Hot. so why not go visit it.
My good friend and crit buddy Debbie Vaughan also has a great free to read story on her website. It's a great fantasy story and I can't recommend it enough. You can find it here.
Get Bit by my Free Reads
and the last bit of news is that my book is being featured on Monday 4th on the excerpt Monday website. Go and check it out for a chance to win a free copy of my book.
Excerpt Monday
See you all in a couple of weeks.

Release Day

2010-09-27T03:14:00.000-07:00

I never thought it would get here but at last my book is about to be released. As promised an adults only excerpt can be read on my books page along with the blurb telling you what the story is about. I can't wait to find out if people enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Happy Birthday Nancy :)

Cover for Happy Birthday, Nancy Tobin

2010-09-19T21:11:00.000-07:00

With only 8 Aussie days left until release day I got the final cover for Happy Birthday, Nancy Tobin.

April Martinez has come up with a stunning design that has me grinning like the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland. More than one person has asked if they can get one of those for their birthday.

Wondering what luscious gift life has in store for her? Go check it out on my books page. You won't be disappointed...well other than by the fact you probably can't get what she's getting.

Welcome

2010-09-08T21:06:00.000-07:00

You may have stumbled, or deliberatly found, the place where I like to hide the good stuff. Anyone who has looked at my main webpage knows it is open for all. Now here I am restricting access to those over 18. Why? Well when a girl writes erotic romance sometimes excerpts can be a little bit too racy for all the world to read.

As well as the chance to read excerpts of my books you can also join me on my torturous journey to continuing publication. A literary agent recently asked on his blog whether you needed to be a tortured soul to be a good writer. The answer, of course not because if you're not tortured when you start you will be by the time you're finished.

So, why not go and check out my book page to see what I have written to amuse and titilate. Or maybe the Path to Publication Page where I will share my journey, no doubt eventually to literary obscurity. I came, I published, I died. Or something like that!