Welcome to Book Hooks, a Wednesday offering by members of Marketing For Romance Writers to share a little taste of our work and entice you into wanting more! Click on the links at the end to travel to other Book Hook posts, and enjoy!
We’re
thrilled to announce Extasy Books has re-released our erotic romantic suspense, The Merry Widow. Thoroughly revised and edited, this is the steamy story
of a mid-life widow’s sexual awakening. Following a prologue to set the stage,
it opens with an erotic scene between two women – the first ever in our
heroine’s life. If this isn’t your cup of tea, no problem – you might prefer
our Romantic
Suspense books, all of which deliver one man, one woman, hot sex, and
perilous danger.
But if
this appeals to you – hang on for the ride! Recently widowed and in her early
forties, Merry Delany is about to plunge into a self-discovery journey that
takes her places she’s never imagined, much less hoped for. Once passion is
unleashed, can it be stopped?
EXCERPT
“So
why did you spy on me and my friends after that?”
Jim
sipped his wine and never batted an eye. “I had to know what the mob might use
against you as possible blackmail.”
“Oh.”
Merry pursed her lips. “I suppose that’s plausible. That couldn’t have taken
more than two or three weeks. You know, to discover the other women and the
guys visiting my house. And you were clear this wasn’t a drug house.”
“You’re
right, of course. If you really want to know, Widow Delaney, I became obsessed
with you. With your body. With your wild escapades. At first, I couldn’t figure
you out. And then I had to have you. You were wasting yourself on all those
young Turks. And I was in the wings more than willing to serve you.”
“And
more than able, I will add on your behalf. But you do have an ego, Detective
Barnes. Why did you wait a week and a half to come back to me?”
“Why
didn’t you call?”
“I
asked you first.”
“It
was stupid to wait. I didn’t want to appear as if I needed you. I wanted you to
come to me.”
“You
thought since I’d experienced your world-renowned cock, no other would
suffice.”
“Something
like that.”
“Do
men often think with their cocks? Ignore that question. It was rhetorical and
inflammatory.”
“Well, you don’t want to be inflammatory, now do you?”
She managed a smile around a piece of cheese. “Not yet,” she said with her mouth full. She sipped more wine and swallowed.
BLURB
The millennium arrived with such promise—will it deliver for recently widowed Merry Delaney?
So much for all the anticipation about
the new millennium. Merry Delaney’s life is still in a rut and shows no signs
of changing. Sex? A fading memory, gone long before her husband actually died. Excitement?
Hardly the hallmark of an accountant’s life. At forty-two, what can she look
forward to?
Until her best friend takes Merry’s
predicament into her practiced hands. One passionate kiss unleashes
possibilities Merry never dreamed of—and she wants to sample them all. Men?
Women? Young? Old? Ménage? Toys? Yes, to all, to pleasure, to making up for
lost time.
Enter Chicago Detective Jim Barnes, who solicits Merry’s help with a mob funds-skimming case. Can the scorching passion that soon smolders between Merry and Jim survive the escalating mob threats of exposure? Having discovered a zest for sex, will Merry ever again be satisfied with one man?
Welcome to Book Hooks, a Wednesday offering by members of Marketing For Romance Writers to share a little taste of our work and entice you into wanting more! Click on the links at the end to travel to other Book Hook posts, and enjoy!
We’re
thrilled to announce Extasy Books has re-released our erotic romantic suspense, The Merry Widow. Thoroughly revised and edited, this is the steamy story
of a mid-life widow’s sexual awakening. Following a prologue to set the stage,
it opens with an erotic scene between two women – the first ever in our
heroine’s life. If this isn’t your cup of tea, no problem – you might prefer
our Romantic
Suspense books, all of which deliver one man, one woman, hot sex, and
perilous danger.
But if
this appeals to you – hang on for the ride! Recently widowed and in her early
forties, Merry Delany is about to plunge into a self-discovery journey that
takes her places she’s never imagined, much less hoped for. Once passion is
unleashed, can it be stopped?
EXCERPT
Detective
Barnes sat in his home office, poring over the latest information on the Fire
and Ice case. Merry had e-mailed him that the account with the current
suspicious vendor had been abruptly closed. How could they have found out? Only
he and Merry had put those links together. He hadn’t shared any of it with
department personnel. He was quite convinced Merry hadn’t shared it with
anyone.
So how did they get the information?
“Jesus H. Christ.” Could they have
bugged Merry’s computer or her phone?Why
the hell hadn’t he considered that possibility earlier? Would the
mob hire an auditor they couldn’t keep tabs on?
He
grabbed a can of pop from the fridge and ran out the door. Once again, he
fastened the blue flasher to the car and drove like a madman toward Merry
Delaney’s house.
He
parked in her driveway and ran to the door. She’d gotten the doorbell fixed—he
heard it doing its thing. But she didn’t come to the door. Maybe she was
spending the night at Camille St. Jermaine’s again. He might not like that, but
it was probably safer.
Jim
picked his way around back and peered into her office and into her bedroom.
Nothing. She wasn’t in the house. Her car was in the garage. That didn’t bode
well. Not at all. Had she gone out on another date?
He was
fairly certain she hadn’t been with a man since their little tryst. That fact
had done some positive things for his ego. So how was he going to feel if she
was out with a guy? Like a jerk. He should’ve called before now.
BLURB
The millennium arrived with such promise—will it deliver for recently widowed Merry Delaney?
So much for all the anticipation about
the new millennium. Merry Delaney’s life is still in a rut and shows no signs
of changing. Sex? A fading memory, gone long before her husband actually died. Excitement?
Hardly the hallmark of an accountant’s life. At forty-two, what can she look
forward to?
Until her best friend takes Merry’s
predicament into her practiced hands. One passionate kiss unleashes
possibilities Merry never dreamed of—and she wants to sample them all. Men?
Women? Young? Old? Ménage? Toys? Yes, to all, to pleasure, to making up for
lost time.
Enter Chicago Detective Jim Barnes, who solicits Merry’s help with a mob funds-skimming case. Can the scorching passion that soon smolders between Merry and Jim survive the escalating mob threats of exposure? Having discovered a zest for sex, will Merry ever again be satisfied with one man?
We’re
thrilled to announce Extasy Books has re-released our erotic romantic suspense, The Merry Widow. Thoroughly revised and edited, this is the steamy story
of a mid-life widow’s sexual awakening. Following a prologue to set the stage,
it opens with an erotic scene between two women – the first ever in our
heroine’s life. If this isn’t your cup of tea, no problem – you might prefer
our Romantic
Suspense books, all of which deliver one man, one woman, hot sex,
and perilous danger.
But if
this appeals to you – hang on for the ride! Recently widowed and in her early
forties, Merry Delany is about to plunge into a self-discovery journey that
takes her places she’s never imagined, much less hoped for. Once passion is
unleashed, can it be stopped?
BLURB
The millennium arrived with such promise—will it deliver for recently widowed Merry Delaney?
So much for all
the anticipation about the new millennium. Merry Delaney’s life is still in a
rut and shows no signs of changing. Sex? A fading memory, gone long before her
husband actually died. Excitement? Hardly the hallmark of an accountant’s life.
At forty-two, what can she look forward to?
Until
her best friend takes Merry’s predicament into her practiced hands. One
passionate kiss unleashes possibilities Merry never dreamed of—and she wants to
sample them all. Men? Women? Young? Old? Ménage? Toys? Yes, to all, to
pleasure, to making up for lost time.
Enter
Chicago Detective Jim Barnes, who solicits Merry’s help with a mob
funds-skimming case. Can the scorching passion that soon smolders between Merry
and Jim survive the escalating mob threats of exposure? Having discovered a
zest for sex, will Merry ever again be satisfied with one man?
EXCERPT
Here is the opening scene:
The lips
pressing against hers were soft and pliant. They tasted of peaches. The tip of
a tongue slipped out to trace the contour of her mouth, wetting her lips. Merry
Delaney leaned in toward that kiss.
It had
been far too long. With eyes shut tight, she parted her lips slightly,
responding in kind. A gentle sweep of passion filled her with warmth.
The
peachy lips became more eager, more insistent. A hand settled over Merry’s
breast, and she focused her entire awareness on the nearly forgotten tingling
sensation of her pebbling nipple. Good God, she’d missed that so.
Practiced
fingers wove their way underneath her top and inside her bra until they cupped
a breast. Merry frowned. The kiss intensified, and she redirected her attention
to tasting those lips.
An arm
gathered her close. Breasts crushed against breasts.
Merry’s
eyes blinked and then opened wide. She jerked out of the embrace and moved a
foot or so down the length of the couch, away from her lifelong friend, Camille
St. Jermaine. “What are you doing?”
It’s
easy to upload books you purchase at Extasy Books to
your Kindle – instructions are on the Extasy
Books blog page. And while you’re there, why not scroll
through the other offerings? Lots of fabulous authors and a wide range of
genres and heat levels.
The holidays are still with us, right? You won’t want to miss this hot new holiday release from Lisabet Sarai!
Femdom
Holiday Erotica
12,000
words, 51 pages
Smashwords and
Amazon
KDP
ISBN
(Smashwords): 9780463715581
ASIN:
B082ZTHVKJ
This Christmas, Santa discovers it’s nice to be naughty.
Blurb
Recent university grad Matt Glaser may not
have the Santa Claus beard or belly, but when it comes to earning extra holiday
cash, it’s a case of ‘ho ho ho, let’s start the show’—he loves his red suit
like a reindeer loves carrots. This potential client, though—classy, curvy
Eleanor Danforth—seems more interested in checking out his butt than his
references. And two grand for a private party? Oy vey, Prancer, something’s not
kosher about this particular Vixen. She’s not one to be denied, though. When
the interview takes a carnal turn, he finds he’s unexpectedly eager to satisfy
the demanding older woman.
Wearing the provocative costume supplied by
his employer, Matt arrives at the Danforths’ swanky apartment to discover he’s
been cast as the emcee for Eleanor’s intimate gathering. His duties include
managing a pair of scantily-clad blond elves, distributing decadent treats to
guests who’ve been good, and meting out punishments to the naughty. Meanwhile,
the mistress of the house has a Christmas gift especially for him—one made of
silicon and leather straps, which requires plenty of lube. Ho ho ho, Matt! It’s
going to be a very merry Christmas indeed.
Muffled in the overcoat I’d borrowed from
my roommate Brian, I faced the hardwood and brass double doors to the
Danforth’s fortieth floor apartment. The doorbell was easy to locate; I just
wasn’t sure I had the guts to ring it.
The Santa costume that my employer had
provided was more appropriate for a go-go boy than Father Christmas. The droopy
conical hat was traditional, with its fuzzy white trim and pom-pom, and the
knee-high black patent leather boots, too, but St. Nicolas wouldn’t have been
caught dead in these shiny red spandex hot pants. They clung to my bum like a
second skin. It was a good thing the weather was warm for December, or I would
have frozen my balls off. The scarlet shirt, fashioned of some sort of stretchy
velvet, had long sleeves with white fur cuffs. However, the front made a
plunging vee that bared most of my chest.
I was grateful for the soft, snowy-white
fake beard. It hid my blushes. I felt ridiculous and incredibly exposed. Like
most authors, I tended to live in my head, my vivid imagination compensating
for my mundane real-world existence. In contrast, this costume emphasized the
physical. My face was hidden; my mind wasn’t important. I had no illusions
about the fact that Mrs. Danforth had hired me primarily for my body.
I could still back out. Turn around, step
back into the chrome and steel elevator and whoosh down to the ground floor.
Spend Christmas Eve eating take-out and working on my novel.
Seriously, though, could I afford to throw
away two thousand bucks? Meanwhile, the experience, however weird, might in the
future serve as grist to the writer’s mill.
Before I could talk myself out it, I gave
the button a firm press.
Almost immediately, Mrs. Danforth opened
the door. “Good evening, Matt. You’re right on time. I do appreciate
punctuality.”
My eyes grew wide and my cock started to
harden as I took her in. She’d been attractive in her form-fitting suit and
silky blouse, but now she was stunning.
Her sleeveless, evergreen-colored cocktail dress was fashioned from some
light, shimmery fabric that clung to her voluptuous breasts and hips. The short
skirt showed off her smooth thighs and muscled calves, their shapeliness
enhanced by her sparkling red stilettos. Her pale hair gleamed in the recessed
lights of the entry way. Artfully-applied make up accentuated her patrician
features. Her plump, crimson lips were moist and inviting.
“Toss your coat onto the chair,” she
ordered. “Let’s see the costume.”
Like an automaton, I shrugged off the heavy
wool garment.
She clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, you look spectacular! Sexy and naughty, just the way I imagined.”
AboutLisabet
Lisabet
Sarai became
addicted to
words at
an early
age. She
began reading
when she
was four.
She wrote
her first
story at
five years
old and
her first
poem at
seven. Since
then, she
has written
plays, tutorials,
scholarly articles,
marketing brochures,
software specifications,
self-help books,
press releases,
a five-hundred
page dissertation,
and lots
of erotica
and erotic
romance – over one
hundred titles,
and counting,
in nearly
every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi,
ménage, BDSM,
GLBT, and
more. Regardless
of the
genre, every
one of
her stories
illustrates her
motto: Imagination
is the
ultimate aphrodisiac.
Do you love reverse harem romances? Love Christmas books? Then check out Moonstone!
Moonstone is a
standalone contemporary reverse harem romance, which is part of the Jewels Café
series—all of which can be read as standalones.
Blurb:
Christmas gifts aren’t the
only surprises Ginny is going to get this year.
Moonstone Guinevere ‘Ginny’ Miles is in Silver Springs
visiting her parents for the holidays. They moved to the town five years ago,
and adore their new life here. Used to the hustle and bustle of London,
England, Ginny isn’t convinced at first—what’s so great about a small town in
Upstate New York, anyway? Despite her own opinions, it’s clear to Ginny the
move has done her parents the world of good—they look years younger. There’s
clearly something magical about this town.
Following some exploration of her own, Ginny discovers
Silver Springs has its charms—Jewels Cafe is amazing, for starters, as is its pumpkin
spice latte. Ginny’s drunk a lot of lattes in her thirty-three years, but
nothing quite like this.
Her taste buds are still tingling from the tasty treat
when she comes across a broken-down truck on the way back to her parents’
place. And when she spots the three gorgeous guys with the vehicle, it’s not
just her taste buds that are tingling.
Is Ginny’s vacation in Silver Springs about to get a
whole lot more interesting?
Moonstone Guinevere Miles—known as Ginny to people who
didn’t want to incur her fierce and everlasting wrath—heaved her suitcase off
the luggage reclaim belt with an “Oof!” and placed it on the floor, a sigh of
relief escaping her. At least the thing had wheels—she didn’t really have the
energy for carrying a heavy suitcase all the way through Customs and out to
Arrivals. The long, tiring flight had seen to that. No matter how much she
tried, no matter how exhausted she was, she simply could not fall asleep
on a plane. Ever. Eye mask, ear plugs, meditation, bloody whale music—nothing
helped. She’d long since resigned herself to staying awake while snores from
other passengers emanated around the cabin. At least it had only been about
seven and a half hours since taking off from Heathrow—she couldn’t imagine what
state she’d be in if she ever flew any longer than that—to Australia, New
Zealand or somewhere.
Doubtful that would ever happen, though. It had
taken long enough for her to get her backside out to the east coast of America,
where her parents had been running a retreat since retiring five years ago. But
then, things were different now, weren’t they? Which was why she was even here
in the first place—it wouldn’t have been possible otherwise.
Thinking of her parents brought an inevitable smile to
her face, and inserted a little more spring in her step. Despite the energy and
mood suck that had been the flight, she was excited to be here. She was eager
to see her parents, and to find out exactly what they’d built up over the last
five years. She’d seen photos and videos, but it wasn’t the same as actually being there.
When they’d first announced they were using their
retirement nest egg to open a retreat in Upstate New York, she’d been floored.
Who the hell retires, only to take on a massive project like that? Surely the
whole point of retiring is to wind down, enjoy some free time, relax? But no,
her mum and dad—who, to be fair, had never been what one would call
conventional—had set their hearts on it. They’d had a huge purge of their
belongings, sold their cars and house, and jetted off across the pond, leaving
Ginny shocked and not a little bereft. She’d been so used to having them close
by and had quickly realized just how much she’d taken that for granted.
At the same time, her own career had taken off and
she’d become so busy that her parents’ sudden distance hadn’t made the blindest
bit of difference. She barely saw the inside of her own flat, never mind her
friends and family. This was the first Christmas she’d had off work since then,
too, and she was looking forward to spending it with her parents more than she
could put into words. They’d been big on the festive period ever since she was
a baby, and as such, Ginny’s brain was stuffed full of warm, fuzzy memories of
Christmases past. They’d been useful to get her through the last five crappy
ones, too, where a microwaved ready meal was the best she could hope for, if
she hadn’t managed to wangle a free meal from the place she’d been working at
at the time.
Her smile widened, and she walked faster still—God,
just how big was this bloody airport?—desperate to see her mum and dad and
start the Christmas holiday with a bang. Anticipation rushed through her.
They’d have turkey and roast potatoes, pigs in blankets, mounds of vegetables,
desserts laden with enough calories to last them until Valentine’s Day,
Christmas carols, amazing decorations, a beautiful tree, fairy lights…
And Santa Claus. Two of them, in fact, jumping up and
down enthusiastically and waving wildly at her, with not a rotund belly in
sight.
Ginny was so excited, she couldn’t even be bothered
with the embarrassment she might have felt at being greeted in a public place
by her parents dressed up in Santa outfits. Plus, nobody knew her here anyway,
so who cared?
She scurried around the barrier, almost flipping her
case in her haste to turn a corner, then covered the remaining distance between
them in seconds flat and released the handle of her suitcase. A series of
squeals and exclamations went up—from all three of them—and then everything
went dark as Ginny was enveloped in a warm, fluffy embrace, her face crushed up
against what she suspected was the white fur trim on her mother’s jacket, and
kisses rained down on her. It was all she could do to suck in oxygen as she was
squeezed and squeezed them right back. She was assailed by the scents of clean
clothes, shampoo, perfume, and cologne—all perfectly lovely smells by
themselves, but somewhat overwhelming all at once. Unintelligible murmurings
reached her ears, but she didn’t bother to reply since she had no idea what was
being said. And she didn’t need words, anyway. All she needed at that moment in
time was to soak up the enormous outpouring of love she was experiencing.
She was so bloody happy, she thought she might pop.
Eventually, her parents loosened their hold enough so
she could step back and actually look at them. She took in her father’s
handsome face, his steel-gray hair—or what she could see beneath the hat, at
least—his wide grin, and her mother’s long, light gray, waist-length plaits,
the glint in her eyes and the glow of her skin.
“Guys, you look fantastic! If this is what
retirement does for you, I think I might sign up now.”
Her mother, Deborah, gave a nonchalant shrug—which,
given her attire, was way more amusing than it should have been. “What can I
say, sweetheart? I feel fantastic. I’ve got so much more energy than I
ever had in London, even when I was much younger.” She shrugged again. “It’s
the retreat, I’m sure of it—the moment your father and I first set foot there
all those years ago, I felt there was something magical about it. Silver
Springs is the most wonderful little town, and we’re lucky enough to live and
work in the most spectacular part of it—though it hardly feels like work.”
Ginny gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, then turned
to her father, Charlie. “And you, Dad? You look twenty years younger, but how
do you feel?”
His face took on a beatific expression. “The same as
your mother, kiddo. Exactly the same. If I’d known just how wonderful it would
be, I’d have thrown in the towel and moved out here years ago. Decades, even.”
He grabbed the handle of Ginny’s case in one hand, then looped the other around
her neck and pulled her in to drop a kiss on her chin-length blonde hair, which
he then ruffled. “I’m so thrilled you’re here, Moony. You’re going to love it
in Silver Springs. Just love it! Come on, let’s get going. We’ve got a long
drive ahead of us, and the weather’s on the turn.”
Ginny bit back comments on both his use of her
childhood nickname, and his messing up of her hair. She didn’t want to dampen
the almost euphoric mood that seemed to float between the three of them—a
combination of being pleased to see each other, and her parents’ obvious
appreciation of their new home. Though five years was hardly new anymore, was
it? She really should have visited before now, but the circumstances had been
impossible. Now they weren’t, and she was here, in the bosom of her family, at
Christmas time, and it was going to be magical.
And, at some point, she’d enlighten her parents about
the fact she had nothing in particular to rush home for, either. But that could
wait. No need to burst the happy, everything-is-perfect bubble just yet. She’d
let them all enjoy their first Christmas together in years before thinking
about that.
They made their way out of the airport building. The
cold air slapped Ginny in the face, momentarily taking her breath. Her slight
gasp drew her mother’s keen eye. “I hope you listened to me, sweetheart, and
brought warm clothes with you. It’s even colder up in Silver Springs, you
know.”
“The car’s not far,” her dad piped up. “I’ll get the
heating on as soon as we’re inside, and we’ll soon have you snug as a bug in a
rug.” He tipped her a wink, and warmth flooded her veins. She hadn’t realized
until now just how much she’d missed her wacky yet lovable parents. They might
be unconventional, but they’d given her a wonderful childhood. When she’d reached
adulthood, they’d remained incredibly close, with them managing to achieve the
perfect balance of loving and supportive without being controlling. They’d let
her forge her own path, make her own mistakes, and had been there to help pick
up the pieces without uttering so much as a “I told you so.”
They’d definitely earned this idyllic new life they’d
carved out for themselves, and she couldn’t wait to experience it for herself,
if only for a little while. Though she wasn’t sure how much fun there was to be
had in the back end of beyond. It was hardly going to be lively. Perhaps it was
a good thing she was only here for an extended holiday.
At ten thirty on a stormy Christmas
Eve, I really didn’t expect any business, but the sign for our diner out on the
highway reads “open until midnight”, and I’m a woman of my word. Good thing I
didn’t close; the
half-frozen long haul trucker who wandered in really needed some hot coffee,
not to mention a slice of my luscious cherry pie.
Something about the grizzled, bear-like
man with the chocolate-brown eyes and ready laugh spun me back to my
scandalous, sensual younger days. I hadn’t wanted anyone in years, but I wanted
Dave Driver. Was I brave enough to act on my desire? And would he flee,
screaming, from the amorous attentions of a white-haired little old lady?
Before he could mention it, I refilled his
empty mug. What was it about this guy? Ants crawled along my skin. Butterflies
danced in my stomach. My nipples felt heavy and hard as polished stones and a
hungry void pulsed between my thighs.
Our eyes met. Heat flickered through me. I
held my breath.
“You got any cherry pie?” he asked at last.
Had he wanted to request something else?
“Um—yes, yes, of course,” I gasped.
Disappointment and relief warred inside me. After all, I wasn’t a girl anymore.
I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. “Best cherry pie in three counties, in
fact.”
“And would you happen to have something to
do with that, Marnie?”
“I certainly would. It’s my mother’s
recipe—by the way, what’s your name?” I winced at my own boldness. “Since you
know mine.”
“Dave,” he replied. “Dave Driver.”
I giggled. “You’re joking, right?”
“Nope. Guess I was fated to be a long-haul
trucker.” Sadness tinged his smile. “Anyway, Marnie—how about that pie? It’s
great talking to you, but I’ve got to be in Nebraska by Thursday morning.”
“Coming right up.” I cut him a
more-than-generous slice and topped it with a scoop of homemade vanilla ice
cream. Ruby-red fruit oozed from the flaky crust. Fingers of creamy white
dripped over the top and pooled on the plate. I garnished the whole thing with
a sprig of fresh mint and presented it to him with a flourish.
“Very Christmas-y,” he said. “Looks
delicious, too.”
“It is.” I watched him devour a big, gooey
chunk.
“Wow! This is amazing!”
“Thanks.” It felt so good to be the cause
of his innocent delight. “Glad you like it.”
“Why don’t you join me? Have a piece of
your own?”
“I shouldn’t. It’s bad for my cholesterol.”
“It’s Christmas Eve, and you have to work.
You deserve some compensation!” He held
out a moist forkful of cherries and cream. “Here, take some of mine, then.”
Giving in to impulse, I leaned over the
counter, opened my mouth and let him feed me. Flavors exploded on my tongue:
the sweet-tart burst of the fruit, the richness of the ice cream, the buttery
lightness of the crust. Dave scrutinized my face as I chewed and swallowed,
savoring every moment. I couldn’t stop licking my lips. His eyes followed my
every move. A blush climbed into my cheeks, even as I chided myself for being
immature and overly sensitive.
“See?”
he said gravely. “You should listen to me. Go get yourself some of your
incredible cherry pie.”
I didn’t resist any more. I wanted the pie.
I wanted him, too. Not much I could do about that second desire, but I could
certainly fulfill the first. Hard as it sometimes was to believe, I was sixty
four. Did I think I’d live forever?
With my pie and ice cream (a somewhat
smaller piece than I’d given him), I perched on a stool inside the serving
area. Facing each other across the counter, less than a foot apart, we ate in
silence.
I tried without success to concentrate on
the exquisite taste of the dessert in front of me, as Dave seemed to be doing.
Instead, I was intensely aware of how close he was—and how paradoxically
attractive. I watched his sensual mouth opening and closing around forkfuls of
pie, the flick of his tongue over his lips as he gathered stray crumbs, the
shift in his throat as he swallowed a mouthful of coffee.
He drained his coffee cup. He’d nearly
finished. When he was done, he’d disappear into the winter night. He had a long
way to travel before morning. His job probably depended on providing a reliable
delivery schedule.
I was just a stop along the way.
AboutLisabet
Lisabet
Sarai became
addicted to
words at
an early
age. She
began reading
when she
was four.
She wrote
her first
story at
five years
old and
her first
poem at
seven. Since
then, she
has written
plays, tutorials,
scholarly articles,
marketing brochures,
software specifications,
self-help books,
press releases,
a five-hundred
page dissertation,
and lots
of erotica
and erotic
romance – over one
hundred titles,
and counting,
in nearly
every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi,
ménage, BDSM,
GLBT, and
more. Regardless
of the
genre, every
one of
her stories
illustrates her
motto: Imagination
is the
ultimate aphrodisiac.
Today we’re thrilled to welcome fellow eXtasy author Cass Ford! Prince of Sin was released as an e-book in June and received an Editor’s Choice award – now this sizzling tale is available as an audio book. We know you’ll love it!
Author: Cass Ford
Narrator: Sierra Kline
Length: 6 hours 4 minutes
Publisher: Cass Ford
Released: Oct. 24, 2019
Genre: Erotic Romance
When savvy gossip vlogger Morgan Sidney gets assigned the breakup of porn’s most illustrious couple, she strikes a deal with her boss – if she scores an exclusive, she’ll get promoted. So when the famous and flirtatious Prince of Sin offers to fulfill her three wildest sex fantasies, Morgan must decide whether she’ll keep things professional or surrender and explore her sensual side. As someone who despises the media, why is Chase Prince spending time with a reporter? Clearly, he’s intrigued. But can a scorched sinner – and the biggest smut star around – let a fierce civilian enter his domain? Prince of Sin takes listeners beyond Tinseltown’s glossy Hollywood Hills to Silicone Valley – for a behind-the-scenes look at a sometimes bleak, always risqué world.
Smut writer Cass Ford began creating smoldering male protagonists when she was five years old and convinced her aunt that she had a hot and heavy kindergarten boyfriend. In grade school, she penned tales on her parents’ typewriter and by middle school sold her own love and gossip magazines to friends. As a preteen at sleepover camp, Cass often told playful, steamy bedtime stories to her bunkmates. After earning her Bachelor of Journalism degree and several TV/film certificates, Cass continued to hone her passion for storytelling as a development producer for broadcast news and unscripted television. Born and raised in Canada, she now resides in California.
Programmer by day, narrator by night, Sierra Kline is always looking for the next adventure. True to her Midwestern roots, Sierra got her degree in theatre from Michigan State University which she has been fortunate to put to heavy use both on the stage and in the booth. When she’s not recording in her home studio, she prefers the great outdoors and loves running, traveling, and backpacking.
How closely did you work with your narrator before and during the recording process? Did you give them any pronunciation tips or special insight into the characters?
I gave Sierra some information about character backgrounds, like accents. Most of that information was in the novel as I introduced each character, so I didn’t have to give too much detail. Before I chose Sierra to narrate, she sent me a sample scene with Chase and Morgan interacting together. There was some back and forth between us to nail down Chase’s voice, but once she found it, Sierra really ran with the rest of the audiobook. Most of my notes on the full audiobook were small grammar or pronunciation corrections, and there were few. One I remember was the word balayage, which I had to lookup myself. I’m SO pleased with how the audiobook turned out. Sierra did a fantastic job!
Were there any real life inspirations behind your writing?
Of course! The whole novel concept was inspired by a male pornstar who I actually had lunch with as part of my research. Not gonna say who… The porn sets I visited for research also influenced various scenes and characters in the book. That investigative research was critical in shaping the novel. So many scenes and beats and moments from the book came from real-life scenes and beats and moments.
How do you manage to avoid burn-out? What do you do to maintain your enthusiasm for writing?
Burnout is very real. Working fulltime in television and living that author life on the side can be exhausting. I think managing and balancing my time helps. I’m pretty Type A, so I like to get things done immediately. But being able to sense when I feel overworked and let some emails or tasks slide until I feel up for them, that’s a skill I’ve been working on since the book came out in June. I remind myself that writing and marketing are not life or death. It should be fun, not stressful.
What do you say to those who view listening to audiobooks as “cheating” or as inferior to “real reading”?
People are entitled to their own opinions. But man are preachy people annoying. Everybody absorbs content differently. I personally take in information much better when reading it, but respect those who best consume content by listening. To those critical of audiobooks, don’t listen to them. But who are you to judge others for their preferred method? You do you, we’ll do us.
What gets you out of a writing slump? What about a reading slump?
I don’t really have time for writing slumps. Whenever I find time to write, I have to take advantage and dive in. As for reading slumps, I actually just had one. I’d started reading a few books in a row that I just couldn’t get into, so I took a reading break. I was also busy preparing the Prince of Sin audiobook release. But after a few weeks, I realized I missed reading, so to get back on track, I ordered a book in a totally different genre than I’d read recently—non-fiction. And so far, Gene Weingarten’s One Day has been a captivating read.
In your opinion, what are the pros and cons of writing a stand-alone novel vs. writing a series?
When it comes to marketing and sales, a series generally makes the most sense. Readers who love Book 1 will continue onto Books 2, 3, 4… Thus, more sales. But I think sequels need to make sense. If they feel forced, readers will know. I recently read a dark romance series where the first and second books captivated me, but the third fell flat. It was slow and stuffed full of dull exposition. I found myself skipping over paragraphs to get through it.
I outlined Prince of Sin as a standalone, but had a rough three-book series plan in case I changed my mind. But when I finished writing it, I felt the characters’ stories had been told and closed it out accordingly. Since publishing, the feedback has been that readers would love for Kali or another secondary character to get their own novel. So that is something I’m considering in the future. Would love to hear who my audiobook listeners think deserves a standalone novel!
Have any of your characters ever appeared in your dreams?
Strangely, I don’t think I’ve ever dreamed about any Prince of Sin characters or scenes. Over many days for several years, this book consumed my thoughts. But once I fell asleep, it never crept into my mind.
What’s your favorite:
Food Cheese
Song Portland, Maine by Donovan Woods
Book The Best of Everything by Rona Jaffe
Television show Friends
Movie E.T. or the Back to the Future series
BandThe Wood Brothers
Sports teams
NHL – Toronto Maple Leafs
NBA – Toronto Raptors
NFL – Pittsburgh Steelers
City Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Are any of those things referenced in appearance in your work?
Growing up in Toronto, I was raised on hockey. So the Anaheim Ducks vs. L.A. Kings rivalry in Prince of Sin came naturally to me. A Toronto Maple Leafs rivalry didn’t make sense since the book takes place in Southern California. My current work in progress has a few scenes in Toronto, one of which is at a Toronto Maple Leafs game. Another features some fictional Toronto Raptors players out at a bar/nightclub.
If you had the opportunity to live anywhere in the world while writing a book that took place in that same setting, where would you choose?
Definitely London, England or New York City, two cities that feel similar to me in some ways. In Los Angeles, I have to drive everywhere and my neighborhood feels somewhat suburban. I’d love to spend a few months living downtown in either of those cities, right in the action, walking and taking the tube or subway to get around.
5 Books That Mean A Lot To Cass Ford
A Visit to the Sesame Street Hospital by Deborah Hautzig
This is the first book I remember. I had surgery at age three and somebody got me this book to prepare me for the hospital experience. As a kid, my parents read me lots of books, including Sesame Street, Curious George, Dr. Seuss… I always loved story time before bed.
Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
A teacher recommended this book for my twelfth-grade book report. I absolutely loved it and remember feeling like I’d finally graduated from younger novels, like Gossip Girl.
New York by Edward Rutherfurd
For a long time, this was my favorite book. Rereading it this year, I was just as enthralled as the first time (around 2010). Fun Fact: When Edward Rutherfurd came on my old morning show as a guest, I was so starstruck, I fell off a chair. Now I’m impatiently waiting on his next release, China.
Beautiful Bastard by Christina Lauren
These ladies! The Christina Lauren duo is crushing the game. I read this book on a trip and think subconsciously, it is THE book that turned me into an erotic romance writer. Though I read the Fifty Shades trilogy in two weeks, it didn’t turn me onto erotic romance at all—the characters irritated me. But Bennett and Chloe in Beautiful Bastard… This had to be what did it for me!
The Best of Everything by Rona Jaffe
THIS. BOOK. IS. AWESOME. It’s the OG Sex and the City, following a group of single ladies trying to hustle and make it in the big city (New York) in the 1950s. I couldn’t put it down. And I just learned it was turned into a movie in 1959, so I’ll be checking that out!
Today we’re thrilled to welcome fellow eXtasy author Renee Matthews, here to share about her upcoming Christmas release, A Timeless Christmas. Part of eXtasy’s Twelve Days of Christmas, it’s due out December 20, and you can pre-order HERE
Some Christmas miracles are not retold, but relived.
Prince Menion had never wanted for anything in his life minus Jacob Riker. Jacob and his twin brother, Lucas, came to the Kingdom of Miraennon every fall and always left before spring arrived. They would bring with them tales of magical worlds and add wonder to his boring life. Then last year, Jacob Riker arrived alone, and they grew closer than Menion should have allowed. Menion was expected to be married and be the next Lord of Miraennon by Christmas. None of those plans involved Jacob Riker.
Being a time traveler, Jacob Riker had never expected to be so stuck in one moment. After their months together, that had been Jacob’s own personal Christmas miracle. Then Menion Astaulind was standing in the snow breaking his heart and proclaimed love for another.
Now, Jacob stands ready to jump through the portal one last time to win over the only man he ever loved before Christmas comes again.
BIO
Renee is often in her own little world. There is nothing that she loves more than writing down all the stories that make up her world. She can often be found curled up in front of her laptop with a cup of coffee.
Today we’re thrilled to welcome fellow eXtasy author Maggie Blackbird with a fabulous kinky release just in time for the holidays. You won’t want to miss this one!
He’s got the perfect Christmas present for the community’s chief—vengeance wrapped in a shiny box with a red bow on top.
Joseph Slade Indian
isn’t angry. He’s pissed. Pissed that the man who threw over his love for glory
and money is back, and now leads their Ojibway community as the new chief.
Holding the pain deep in his chest, Slade knows how he’ll celebrate the most
miserable day of the year—opening a gift of recompense after being dumped by
the one man he dared to love.
Gavin
Pemmican is full of regret. He knows he made a big mistake leaving Slade for a
materialistic dream of power and prestige. No longer the poor bullied misfit
but an educated lawyer, he’s ready to put his skills to the biggest case of his
life by brazenly challenging Slade in the kangaroo court of sexual torture he’s
daring to stick Gavin in—and win back the only man he’s ever loved.
Gavin swiveled on his black shoe, glancing over his shoulder. No,
not a glance. His heavy-lidded eyes burned into Slade. Searing him until his
mouth dried.
The napkin fell to the floor.
Reality slapped Slade’s face cold, and fire crackled in his veins.
Who did this asshole think he was, blatantly tossing garbage around while he
stood watching?
Gavin kept gazing at him while he shifted one leg over the other.
The sound of his heels clicking against the floor echoed off the walls.
Slade gritted his teeth. Was Gavin daring him to get mad, going to
throw around his newfound power if Slade told the high and mighty chief to bend
the hell over and pick that damned napkin off the floor?
Gavin’s dark eyed gaze continued to cut into Slade, as if sharing a
secret. There wasn’t a hint of smug satisfaction. Only a potent, seductive
invitation.
A man had needs. Slade swallowed. And he wasn’t about to get laid on
the rez, no matter if the population clocked in at eight hundred members.
With one final lingering peek, Gavin disappeared inside his office.
Slade’s breathing hitched. The lightness in his chest twisted until
his lungs clenched. He ought to leave the napkin on the floor and find out what
Gavin had to say about that. Slade set the mop handle aside. If he ignored the
trash, the band manager would call him out.
He trounced to the washroom door and leaned down, swiping up the napkin, but the plush material melting into his palm didn’t resemble a napkin. Then what the…? He turned the garment over. His throat clamped shut. Underwear. He was holding Gavin’s underwear.
Author Bio
An Ojibway from Northwestern Ontario, Maggie resides in the country with her husband and their fur babies, two beautiful Alaskan Malamutes.
When she’s not writing, she can be found pulling weeds in the flower beds, mowing the huge lawn, walking the Mals deep in the bush, teeing up a ball at the golf course, fishing in the boat for walleye, or sitting on the deck at her sister’s house, making more wonderful memories with the people she loves most.
For Laurel,
Christmas so sucks. She’s out of a job, money, and luck until her neighbor
Scott plays Santa. This tall, dark, and sexy hunk delivers sweet decadence and
holiday magic that makes being bad oh-so good.
Excerpt:
God, god,
god. Laurel indulged in Scott’s clean, wondrous flavor, his intense
heat, and male need.
He groaned
savagely.
The
unrestrained sound and his impassioned embrace said more than words could. He
wanted her as no other man had.
With one
hand firmly on her ass, he pulled her into him.
Trapped in
the best possible way, she surrendered to his desire and her own.
They kissed
as lovers would after a lengthy separation, his stubble scraping her cheeks and
chin. Few things could have better defined or intensified his masculinity.
She
couldn’t touch him enough and stroked his firm pecs, broad back, silky hair,
and the precious package between his legs.
A fierce
sound spilled from him. He pushed her tongue aside to fill her mouth and
fondled her boob.
Her nipple
came alive within his lusty caress, the tip and halo painfully tight.
Getting
close enough proved beyond necessary and seemingly impossible to achieve. They
were practically welded together and it wasn’t enough. She clawed his top,
wanting the damn thing off.
On a rough
moan, he cupped her ass and lifted her into his arms, her weight
inconsequential against his brute strength. Lost in intolerable need, she
pressed her thighs to his narrow hips, her pussy snug to his cock.
He tottered
backward and dropped onto the sofa, her straddling him.
Clothes
flew. Her tank top and bra tangled with his Henley.
He cupped
her naked breasts, his grin stretching from ear to ear.
Warmth
swirled in her stomach and pussy, his pleased reaction doing wonders for her
battered heart. Especially given his physical gifts: smooth olive skin, taut
pecs, and beautifully defined abs. Even Photoshopped male models didn’t look
this good. “Where’s your phone? I have to take your picture.”
“Later.
Yours first though.” He tongued her nipple into his mouth.
Riotous
pleasure shot through her. Never had she experienced such intense heat. Her
head fell back.
He suckled
hard, soft, and somewhere in between. His tongue flicked her tip relentlessly.
Nerve
endings fired. She trembled.
He held her
tightly, preventing escape.
As if she
were crazy enough to be anywhere but up close and personal.
Finished
with one boob, he sucked air and leaned toward the other.
“No, no,
no.” She gripped his head. “Stop!”
Alarm
flooded his handsome features, dread beneath it. “Why?”
“I want—I
have—I can’t wait any longer. Sorry.” She scrambled off his lap, knelt between
his legs, and tugged his fly.
“Whoa.” He
gripped her wrists. “Let me help before you draw blood.”
“Hurry.”
“Believe
me, I’m trying.” He yanked his button free and rammed down his zipper.
Together, they shoved his jeans and stretchy boxer briefs to his thighs.
His cock
sprang out, wavered, and landed on his belly, the thick shaft so hard it
pointed north.
“Wow.” She
cupped his lightly furred balls, their weight and warmth pure wonder. “You’re
gorgeous.”
He sagged
against the sofa but also pressed his family jewels into her palm. “Yeah?”
“I have to
take a picture.”
“Not
fucking now.” Breathing hard, he cupped her hand over his dick and balls.
“Don’t you dare stop.”
“No sir. I’ll be good.” She took his rod into her mouth, tonsil deep.
About Tina:
I’m an Amazon and international bestselling novelist who
writes passionate romance for every taste – ‘heat with heart’ – for traditional
publishers and indie. Booklist,
Publisher’s Weekly,Romantic Times
and numerous online sites have praised my work. I’ve won Readers’ Choice
Awards, was named a finalist in the EPIC competition, received a Book of the
Year award, The Golden Nib Award, awards of merit in the RWA Holt Medallion
competitions, and second place in the NEC RWA contests. I’m featured in the
Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, I worked at a
major Hollywood production company in Story Direction.
On a less serious note: I’m an admitted and unrepentant
chocoholic, brake for Mexican restaurants, and have been known to moan like Meg
Ryan in When Harry Met Sally while
wolfing down tostadas. I’ve flown a single-engine airplane (freaking scary),
rewired an old house using an ‘electricity for dummies’ book, and am horribly
shy despite the hot romances I write.
