Thursday, April 19, 2012

Award-winning author Bev Irwin showcases Ghostly Justice

Award-winning author Bev Irwin showcases Ghostly Justice

This is the last of my book blog tour for Ghostly Justice and it is with the lovely Bri Clark. Come and spend a moment or two.

Monday, April 2, 2012

Born in Ice gift certificate Winner

The winner for a $10 gift certificate to either or Barnes and is Jason. I have your email address so will email you to ask which type card you prefer.

Thank you Goddess Promotions for the invitation to your Fish Part Pavilion. I had a great time!

Linda LaRoque
Writing Romance with a Twist in Time
A Marshal of Her Own, Feb. 2012 Book of the Month at Long and Short Reviews

Here's my winner!!

Loved reading all the great excerpts from so many wonderful writers...And the winner of my contest is Xeranthemum. If you'd just get in touch with me, X, I'll be happy to send the book of your choice from my website, Please e-mail me a and I'll get it right to you. Answered all your questions on the excerpt site, but if you didn't catch them I'll do it again. Jean

It Has Been a Pleasure... share today with the readers here at the Goddess Fish Party Pavilion. Thank you so much for allowing me to post about my novels, especially my new release, Out of Forgotten Ashes, which will be available in a few hours from Champagne Books.

My contest winners are Mysti Holiday and Shadowluvs2Read.
[Mysti, please email me (AuthorJude(AT)comcast(DOT)net so we can make arrangements.]

Thanks again, I had fun!

Best wishes and Happy Reading!


Sunday, April 1, 2012

Thank you for joining me!

Thank you so much for joining me today in celebration of my new release "Undefeated"
I've sent emails to each of today's winners. I appreciate everyone who stopped by and left a comment on each of my posts.  My winners were: Edenmary Black and Shadow. Congratulations!

Charity Pakerson

Spoiled Pets are the Best Kind

Normally it's not my philosophy to spoil pets or children. It never leads anywhere good, especially with pets. But when it came to my heroine, I couldn't help but indulge her a few times. Besides, she was Bekion's first pet, of course he's going to spoil her.

Pet's Pleasure
by Zenobia Renquist

Coming Out 05 April (Thursday)

Buy Link:


She said, “You left your work.”
He shook his head. “I can do it in my chambers. It will be quieter there. I’ll be happy when Vieve returns. She may be a pushy woman but at least she does her job without complaining.”
“It also helps that she likes me. She wouldn’t have complained about the mess I was making.”
“Also true.” He made a thinking noise. “Maybe I should worry about how much she spoils you.”
“She doesn’t spoil me.”
He snorted. “Who gave you three boxes of pebble candy?”
“And the bell beads that adorn your hair?”
Starling touched her head, making the beads at the end of her braids tinkle. “Vieve.”
“Who commissioned the table and chairs you use in the main dining hall?”
“Vieve. But that’s because she beat you to it. She probably thought you would request it eventually and decided to get it done before you asked.”
“I enjoyed having you sit on my lap,” he grumbled. The topic strayed to dangerous territory and they had yet to reach the privacy of his bedroom. “It matters not. I have validated my point. You are being spoiled. In my experience, spoiled women cause trouble.”
“I’m not a woman. I’m a pet. Pets are meant to be spoiled. So there.” She stuck her tongue out at him.
Behind him, a few of his guards chuckled under their breath. Bekion joined their amusement and shook his head. “I am supposed to spoil you, not my secretary.”
“If it makes you feel better, Vieve always says the presents are from you.”
“She should inform me of the presents before giving them to you.”
“Now who’s whining?” Starling lifted an eyebrow at him when he met her gaze.
He stopped, put Starling on her feet and then walked away.
Starling called after him, “Petty.”
He didn’t acknowledge her. He did smile though. Laughter escaped him when she caught up with the group at his chambers. She had Nausic carrying her. He said, “Spoiled.”
“I’ll admit to mine when you admit to yours.”
Bekion said to Nausic, “Take her to the inner chambers. I need to work without interruption.”
Nausic nodded and walked away.
Starling called back, “It’s my naptime anyway.”

Buy Link:

Tune in 06 April at D. Renee Bagby Presents First Chapters blog for the a sneak peek at the full first chapter.

Stop by my website for a chance to win a PDF copy: Contest ends 08 April.

Zenobia Renquist
Discover Different and Unique Romance

Last Post of the Night more M/M from Michael and BL

How about more interracial m/m from the other two muses? First up a book I adore, BLMorticia's first book from Rebel Ink Press, My Lieutenant. 

Official Blurb: Nathan Ellerby's apartment has been ransacked by his ex who didn't like the fact Nathan dumped him. Trouncing through the debris uttering a string of obscenities, Nathan's shocked to see Lieutenant Bryant Duncan at his door claiming he's already caught the offender. Sensing an instant connection, when Nathan finds out Bryant's divorced and he's straddling the fence between being gay or bisexual, Nathan finds himself in a quandary.

 Although the Lieutenant does everything in his power to prove to Nathan he's worthy, Nathan is afraid to lower his defenses which leaves both men wondering if Nathan will allow love into his life even through his doubts.



* * *

And then finally, my other muse Michael Mandrake with Under the Gun! A hot erotic romance which just received a great review. New from No Boundaries Press.

Camdyn Hardy is a former cop who has his own private investigator business. Due to a misunderstanding from a client, he gets into an argument with his lover Tay. Right after, they breakup Camdyn is left alone to think about his future as a PI and his love life.
Malik Day was recently discharged under the DADT policy and is looking to get his life on track The main reason he joined was because he dreamed of being a ranking officer. Now that it’s been taken away, he desires to start his life anew and find someone to share it with.

After two weeks the men meet at a shooting range and find out they have a lot in common. Once they engage in a one on one match, they proceed to a bar to have drinks and get to know one another better.  They both discover their affinity for guns as well as Camdyn’s need for a new partner at Camdyn & Associates. Malik is intrigued but afraid to ask him and decides to wait till they are closer. Camdyn is excited about this prospect as well but waits for Malik to say the word. Finally, in an erotic encounter, true feelings are revealed.

In subsequent books, the story continues where the twosome begin their work and love relationship. Together they’ll take on cases investigating cheating husbands or wives, companies with defector employees all the while trying to maintain their newfound commitment to one another as well as having a little fun in the process.

* * * *

Hope you enjoyed my posts today. As always I've enjoyed my time at Goddess Fish. Have a great Sunday.

The Literary Triad -!

Michael Mandrake –

Dragon & Hawk excerpt (PG) and a Contest!

Once more into the excerpt bin... This time from Book One, which started it all: Dragon & Hawk, published by Champagne Books in both ebook and print.
Contest after the excerpt...

Evan Jones and his brothers came to the hostile Arizona Territory to start new lives--and found three very different, strong women who taught them the meaning of courage and love...
     Slowly, as days passed, Evan recovered. "Come walk," she said, and dragged him down the stairs. He looked at steep streets snaking around the hills and paused, intimidated. Unsure.
     "Día por día," she encouraged him with a smile. "Each day, and so each step, as it comes." She walked with him, patient, turning to go back when his eyes showed too much pain.
     Reyna admired his determination. Little was said on those first excursions, all his effort concentrated on getting from here to there and back. But one morning, he looked up from watching one foot go in front of the other, surprised at the variety of familiar surroundings, and started to talk during their strolls...
     They walked a little farther through Bisbee each day, exchanging stories of their cultures. One muggy August morning, she told him of Cochise, Great Chief of the Nide. The county had been restructured and named to honor him only a few years before. "Nide, The People is what they
call themselves," she said. "'Apachu' is a Zuni word for 'enemy.' You could have no fiercer foe than to betray the Nide."
     "Ah," he said, "The same could be said of Dreigiau—Dragons of Cymru."
     "Dragons?" She turned quickly to him, concerned.
     "Heard then of dragons, have you?"
     Reyna slowly nodded. "Nide Creation legend tells of Dragón Viejo—Old Dragon. A vile, baby-eating monster. Wise—and extremely evil."
     "Welsh dragons aren't evil—well then, some were, mind. All were fierce, though—breathed fire, ate huge herds of sheep—oh, and the occasional maiden or baby now and then." Evan laughed at her astonished, worried look. "'Tis myth, Señora, just stories. But the symbol of Cymru is the Red Dragon. That actually came from the Romans, mind you now, but another tale says two dragons—one red, one white—fought a duel to determine who would rule the land. The Red Dragon won, for it was born of the valleys of Cymru—that's Wales—and loved the land so deeply it would
rather die than live under the rule of the White."
     Evan lifted his chin, proud. "So the people of Wales are known by the Red Dragon, for we too are fierce and love our land deeply. Not evil, is it then? Wherever there are Cymry—that's Welshmen—well, there Dragons be."
     She recalled Nide legend, and inwardly trembled. "Eres tú dragón. You are Dragon."
     He smiled. "Certain sure. Dw i'n waed coch cyfan Cymro—I'm pureblood Welsh."
     Her heart stopped, flipped, beat again. She was unsure if it was because his totem was terrifying, or because his eyes were bright, his smile mesmerizing. He spoke, but she didn't hear his words for the pounding in her ears. She couldn't catch her breath.
     His bemused smile gleamed. "Señora, the story. What happened? The dragon?"
     "Old Dragon ate every baby Woman had," Reyna said, distracted. "She found a way at last to hide her last son, teach him magic until he grew big enough to hunt. The Boy tricked Old Dragon, killed him with four arrows. Old Dragon fell down a huge cañon, his bones now the boulders at the feet of the mountains." She blinked, shook her head, trying to dispel her uneasiness.
     He watched her closely, and it unnerved her. "Señora? I upset you with talk of dragons?"
     She forced a smile. "No, of course not." She didn't want to tell him Dragón Viejo had been the fiercest enemy of her totem, Halcón. Hawk. No. His spirit guide couldn't be malicious Old Dragon, not Evan. No, I refuse to believe it. Dragons of his land must be different creatures than the Ancient

CONTEST: What do you think your animal spirit guide would be? Some people are Rabbits, quick and careful to watch from the shadows. Some are Bear, calm but fierce when protecting their own. Leave your comment about your animal totem here with your email address [email(AT)whatever(DOT)com] and I will draw a name at random at 9:00PM Pacific time-- the lucky winner will receive a free PDF of Out of Forgotten Ashes tomorrow morning! I'll announce the winner as my final post. Good Luck!


Musical Inspiration and my soulmate

I love music almost as much as I love to write and that is really saying something.  The T.V. in my house is rarely on when I am home alone, but my ipod never gets a break.  I tend to lean towards the music that fits my mood, and I have learned to use that to my advantage in my writing.  If I know that I am writing a love scene or a heartbreaking scene, then I set my playlist to match my scenes in order to keep my mood even with my writing.  However, music has also equally influenced my “real” life, as opposed to the imaginary one that I normally live in, and I believe that music can lift you up when you are down or allow you to wallow in your misery if that is what you need at the time.  Songs hold our memories.  How often do you turn on the radio and suddenly find yourself thinking about a person or a time that you’d forgotten?  Just like Trisha Yearwood says, “The Song Remembers when” and if I had to pick one song today that remembers for me, it would have to be:
 Usher  “You Got it Bad”
This song was very popular back when my husband and I were dating.  We would be out on the town when this song would come on the radio, and then we’d turn the sound up, and sing this song to each other at the top of our lungs.  We meant every word, but we would still laugh about it afterwards.  We decided against playing this song at our wedding, in order to keep from offending some of the older quests, but in my heart this song will always be my wedding march, because I know every time that I hear it, that it was the song I was hearing in my head as I was marrying my soulmate. 
Do you have a song that remembers for you? 

Charity Parkerson ~ author of the Sinner Series

Angels Among Us: Fallen & Tempted (R-Rated Sensual Excerpts) + Contest

Hello peeps! I'm back again for my last post of the day. Earlier today I introduced you to Fallen and Tempted, the first two books in my Angels Among Us series. I also shared two very sweet excerpts. Now I'm cranking up the heat with something a bit more spicy.

For those just joining in: I am giving away an ecopy of BOTH books in this series. Just comment (leave your email address too) to enter and win! I hope you enjoy my excerpts!

Excerpt 3 (Fallen):
He tore his mouth away from hers and looked down into her eyes, reading desire there. Her lips parted, her breath was coming fast and ragged, the same as his. He traced the full upper lip with his fingertip before circling around to trace the bottom. Her tongue crept out to taste the tip; the sheer pleasure of it shot through him like a lightning bolt. “Shayla,” he whispered with a shudder as her body moved against his. “I want you. Now.”
She nodded wordlessly, her hands already coming up to the hem of his shirt. He lifted his body away from hers just long enough for her to whip his shirt over his head and bring his own hands to the front of her blouse. With one firm tug, the buttons at the front of her shirt popped out of their holes, and the material fell away from her easily. He reached around to reach the clasp of her bra, pulling it away just as easily. Cool air whispered between them for a moment before he pulled her back down and her chest settled against his.
His fingertips slid gently up and down her back as his open mouth found her neck. She gripped his shoulders tightly and arched her back, offering up more of the curve of her neck and aching breasts to his delight. He took one offered orb into his mouth, thrilled at the friction between his tongue and her hardening nipple. Grasping his hair with one hand, she held him there, gasping for breath as he tasted the honey of her skin. Never had he tasted anything more satisfying.
As she lowered her head to kiss him again, his hands moved down to cup the delicious curve of her bottom, pressing her tightly against him. He throbbed with need against her, desperate for release, aching for the sweet ecstasy that he knew awaited him within her most sacred and womanly of places.
Before he could reach between their bodies to unsnap the button on her jeans, she was doing it. Amir busied himself with cradling her breasts in his hands, testing the weight of them, marveling at how his touch caused the tips to pucker and harden. When she was unbuttoned, he helped her slide the jeans over her hips and down her legs. His hands gripped her legs in a slow caress on the way back up from her ankles. Within seconds she had divested him of his jeans as well.
Amir’s eyes roamed over Shayla’s body with undisguised want and admiration. The beauty of what she was offering him, her womanly body, both stunned and pleased him. He had never been with a woman before, yet he felt as if he already knew how to love Shayla, just as he knew everything else about her.
“Shayla,” he murmured her name again, running one hand down from the tip of one breast to the curve of her waist and hip. She shivered. “I’ve never…that is…I know what to do but I’ve never been with a woman before.”
“Shhh,” she pressed her finger to his lips, effectively silencing him before drawing close for another kiss. “I love you, and I know I’ll love being with you.”
His anxiety put to rest, he went down easily when she put one hand against his chest and pushed gently. When he was lying on his back she came over him until she was straddling his lap. Her heated core pressed up against the thick root of his yearning, forcing a moan from his lips. As she rose up enough to press the head of him to her entrance, Amir paused and held his breath, the anticipation nearly driving him over the brink.
She paused for a moment, savoring the tingling feeling of expectation. In the same instant he thrust upward and she surged downward, and in one firm stroke he was buried within her. The breath he had been holding came out on a hoarse cry that rose up to mingle with her impassioned moan. They stayed that way for a moment, simply reveling in the feel of their joined flesh. And then, she began to move.
Pleasure; pure, exquisite and torturous, it thrummed through him as he moved his hips upward to meet hers. He allowed her to set the pace, too overcome with the ecstasy of the moment to snatch the reigns back from her firm grasp. He watched her as she moved over him, her hair now completely unbound and cascading around her shoulders, her lips parted as moans of delight spilled from between her sweet lips, the rise and fall of her breasts as he reached out his palm to touch her. He delighted in the feel of her skin, hot against his hand, and the contrast of his light skin against her dark.
When her pace grew wilder and her breath quickened, and her eyes widened and her lower lip disappeared between her teeth, Amir knew that heaven was near. When she collapsed against him, her moans wild against his ear and her body quivering against his, he knew that she had found her release. Not far behind her, Amir drove up into her once, twice, and a third time before exploding with his own exquisite ending.
Excerpt 4 (Tempted): 
Sarah watched as Jackson walked toward her, his fingers working at the buttons down the front of his crisp white shirt. Her palms were damp as she twisted at the skirt of her gown. Her heart was racing, her skin was tingling, and he hadn’t even touched her yet.
“Relax,” he said gently, bringing his hands to her bare shoulders. “What happened to the flirty girl who wanted to learn?”
His smile pushed away her reservations and she giggled. “She’s still here, just a little less flirty and a lot more nervous.”
“We won’t do anything before you’re ready, okay?”
She nodded, standing when he grabbed her hand and tugged. Her eyes traveled down the length of bare, mahogany skin exposed by his open shirt. She wanted to touch him, but kept her fingers wrapped around the tulle at her sides. She would let him guide her.
He motioned for her to turn around, and she obeyed, giving him her back. For a moment, there was nothing but silence as she felt his eyes traveling over the back of her neck and over her bare shoulders. Then his fingers were at the zipper running along her spine. Her wedding gown fell into a pool at her feet, and she stood there wearing only a corset, panties, and the petticoat that Vivian had insisted upon.
Jackson’s lips found the curve where her neck met her shoulder in a lingering kiss, and his hands rested at her hips. His front met her back, and she realized that at some point he had completely removed his shirt. Her head fell back against him as he left a trail of kisses across one shoulder, pausing at the back of her neck for a spine tingling nip before moving onto the other.
With a speed that left Sarah breathless, he had the drawstring of her petticoat untied. It too fell to the floor with her dress. She stiffened, very aware of the fact that she was almost completely naked. He turned her to face him, his hands sliding over her shoulders and down her arms in a spine-tingling caress. As his fingers intertwined with hers, he captured her mouth, running his tongue slowly across the lower lip. He’d never kissed her more thoroughly; he nipped and tasted and prodded with his tongue until she thought she would melt from the dizzying sensations he was creating.
He pushed her gently back to the bed. She sat, sliding back across the cool comforter and toward the pillows resting on the headboard. She watched, her eyes wide, as he removed his last few pieces of clothing.
Her cheeks and neck flamed hot, but she could not look away from the beauty in front of her. Smooth, supple skin, like coffee laced with lots of cream, blanketed muscles that created ripples and valleys along his chest and torso. Dark hair sprinkled across his chest and tapered in over his abdomen until it reached…her eyes felt as if they were bulging from her head, they were so wide when they came to rest on his swollen member.
As he walked toward her, she shuddered in anticipation. That beautiful man would very shortly be on her, in her, around her. She clenched her legs together at the fluttering that had begun low in her belly, and was now spreading to her feminine core.
He knelt on the bed and grasped her ankles firmly, pulling her gently until she was lying on her back. He kissed her again, his mouth trailing from her lips down to her neck as he worked at the ribbon on the front of her corset. As he pulled the uncomfortable undergarment aside and stared down at her body she felt herself blushing again. She wished her breasts were bigger and that her waist was smaller. She wished her legs were just a little bit longer.
As if he sensed the direction of her thoughts, he grasped her chin gently and forced her to look into his eyes. They were dark with desire, the pupils so wide she could barely make out the gray irises.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, trailing his hand over one small, perky breast. “Just like this, Sarah. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
The love and acceptance in his eyes gave truth to his words. Overwhelmed with emotion, as she often was these days, Sarah reached up and pulled Jackson down for another kiss. This time she did the exploring, sweeping the inside of his mouth with her tongue, and drinking thoroughly from his mouth. His body came down over hers, heavy, solid, protective.
A low sound, almost a growl, rumbled in his chest as she moved her lips to his neck to taste his skin as he had hers. The growl became a moan as she brought her hands up to his chest, caressing the soft skin and scoring it lightly with her fingernails as she tentatively flicked out her tongue over his sweet skin.
He snatched the control back from her in an instant, fulfilling his promise to teach her. He left not an inch of her untouched. His hands palmed her breasts, his fingers teased the sensitive tips. His lips replaced them as he ran his hand down over her ribs and waist. As his tongue circled one peach-colored nipple, his hands busied themselves with the final undergarment separating them, her white lace panties.
Sarah gasped and arched her hips to meet his as he settled between her legs. She felt him, full, thick, and pressed against her. In the back of her mind she knew there would be pain, but nothing would get her to the pleasure that waited on the other side except Jackson being inside of her. She wanted it, the joining of their bodies and souls, more than she’d ever wanted anything.
She squirmed and writhed beneath him as his fingers slipped through the chestnut curls between her thighs and found her most intimate place. His breathing grew heavier, and his fingers shook as he slipped first one, then a second finger inside, hinting at what was soon to come.
He took his time, allowing her to get used to the sensation, bringing her closer and closer to the explosive ending that she knew was only seconds away.
“Jackson please,” she begged. Everything he’d done so far had been wonderful, far better than she’d imagined, but she was ready for more. “I’m ready now.”
“Sarah,” he groaned against her shoulder. “I want this to be perfect for you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I don’t care,” she choked out between breaths. His hand never ceased its movement between her legs.
“All right.”
He reluctantly pulled his hand away and spread her legs wider. He came down between her hips and pressed forward, guiding himself into her. She felt as if her inner channel was so impossibly stretched that she would rip in two, but she gritted her teeth and forced herself to breathe as Jackson thrust forward swiftly, breaking through the barrier of her virginity.
She couldn’t stop the strangled cry that came from the back of her throat as hot, searing pain ripped through her. She shuddered against him, her fingernails digging into his shoulders as he paused inside of her.
He stroked her hair and sprinkled kisses across her face, murmuring softly to her as she breathed through the intrusive pain. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he whispered against her ear. “I’ll never hurt you again.”

About the Author:
I'm Elise, a lover of all things romance. I picked up my first romance novel when I was in high school and have been reading and writing it ever since. 

I love the world of historicals starring feisty heroines. I love dark paranormals featuring brooding other-worldly heroes. I love writing stories about love conquering all. I love writing characters that people can fall in love with.
I'm a stay-at-home wife and mother of two, and wh
en I'm not reading, writing, or caring for my family, I'm in the kitchen whipping up fun recipes or singing my heart out to the radio! 

All books available at: 



She was actually going to do this.
Mitch couldn’t believe it. Transfixed, he watched Nikki release the top button on her blouse. The rich blue silk folded back, creating a deeper V that dipped toward her cleavage.
She inhaled slowly. To calm herself? To gather strength? Mitch hadn’t a clue. With the next button freed, the fabric fluttered away from her body, creating shimmering waves of color that rippled over the swell of her lush breasts and taut nipples.
He swallowed, his mind going places it shouldn’t—the faint saltiness of those rigid peaks on his tongue, his mouth drawing them deeper inside, suckling hard while his hands roamed her naked ass and between her thighs, his fingers reaching her damp slit, slippery with arousal, hot and ready for him.
Yeah, I want to do this, she’d said.
With more resolve than Mitch would’ve guessed he owned, he wrapped his hand around Nikki’s wrist, stopping her.  
She regarded him questioningly, her vulnerable expression tearing away all of his barriers, her satiny skin and magnolia scent making his cock stand at attention. If his balls got any tighter, he’d be in serious pain. Physical as well as mental. He should have brought his hand back, but couldn’t, driven to touch her, convincing himself she was real. That she’d actually returned.
She appeared far younger than twenty-nine, more like the girl he’d fallen in love with so effortlessly, so foolishly. Back then, Mitch had told Nikki about his dream to run a business—maybe a pizza parlor if he was very lucky—so he, Connor and their grandmother would finally have enough to eat. He’d confessed his worry that he might not be good enough to succeed, revealing nearly all of his fears, stuff he hadn’t even shared with Connor. He’d given his ego to her for safekeeping and look where that had led. Much of him still regretted how easily he’d trusted, while a part had never quite given up on her. Nikki had done a good enough job of that.
Her most recent news photos had shown a woman shamed and frightened by the events swirling around her, no longer the feisty girl he recalled who loved to roughhouse and tease. A few minutes ago, when she’d stood her ground with him and Connor, a bit of her sass had returned.
Mitch liked that and how well she’d filled out. Even clothed, her body was ripe, her narrow waist accentuating her full breasts and the womanly flare of her hips. Her dark auburn hair hung well below her shoulders, the wavy tresses artfully mussed as they would be after a satisfying fuck, the color complementing her blue-grey eyes and ivory complexion. Delicate and pale…almost too pale.
What happened to the sprinkling of freckles across her nose? Did she have them removed? Damn. For that and a whole lot of other shit, she deserved a spanking, her body bared, bent over his thigh, ass lifted in penitence, obediently accepting her punishment.
A bead of sweat ran down Mitch’s spine. His clothes had never seemed more restrictive. Maybe he should strip too or behave like a professional, rather than the horny, hopeful teen he used to be. No matter what Connor had claimed, this was nuts.
“No,” he said, his thumb stroking the side of her hand, his frown on his brother.
Connor didn’t notice. Given his ruddy complexion, he’d forgotten to breathe during these last seconds, as wanting of her as Mitch. Not that Connor would ever admit to it or give an inch. He’d never been able to reconcile what she’d done to them. Although Mitch appreciated his brother’s caution, that didn’t mean either of them were going to lord it over her or get revenge.
“Take the check,” Mitch ordered.
She pulled her hand from his. He had to stop himself from taking it back and hauling her into his arms, kissing her into submission.
“I didn’t come here for charity,” she said.
“I’m not offering you any.” He kept picturing them on his desk or sofa, writhing in delight. There was definitely no charity in that, just pure, hard lust. “We’ll call it a loan.”
Nikki squared her shoulders.
Not a good move given his current state. Her posture further displayed her breasts. Didn’t she realize that?
“I can’t pay it back without a job,” she said. “I want this one. I need it. I’ll be the best damn server or performer you’ve ever had at Wicked.”
“No.” He planted his hands on his hips. “I don’t want you working there.”
Her lower lip jutted out. She looked at him from beneath her lashes. “You don’t think I’m pretty enough?”
Okay, now she was playing with him. He liked it, but wasn’t about to let on. “I didn’t say that.”
Naked pleasure raced across her lovely features. “You don’t think I’m built enough?”
“We’ll know in a few minutes,” Connor muttered.
To him, she offered a tentative smile, the type one gives a potential boss. “That you will, and I promise, you won’t be disappointed.”
More color stained Connor’s face and throat.
“Neither will you,” she said to Mitch, her smile growing more provocative by the second.
She really needed a good spanking. Mitch had to settle on stopping her again as she reached for her buttons.


Tina Donahue
“Heat with Heart”

SINFULLY WICKED (menage - Available NOW)
SiNN (5 Stars - Mary's Naughty Whispers)

MISSING CLAYTON Coming in June, excerpt

MISSING CLAYTON is not coming out until June with Black Opal Books but here is a teaser.

I don’t like it here. It’s dark. It’s cold. Why doesn’t Mommy come and get me? She knows I don’t like the dark.
“Your mommy has to find you,” the man had said.
Where is she?
“It’s a game,” he said.
He grabbed my arm. It hurt. It’s not a good game. He’s not nice.
I called her, but he put his smelly hand over my mouth. I wanted to bite it. Mommy doesn’t like biting. But he’s mean.
I don’t like this place. Will she find me here? She will. She’s good at hide-and-seek. I hope she finds me soon.
The boy sat cross-legged in the cave-like space, a mat of blue tweed his only protection from the damp dirt floor. Putting his head in his hands and felt the mud coating his hair. He’d screamed when the man rubbed it on his head.
“My mommy doesn’t like my hair dirty. She’ll be mad at you.”
The man laughed. Not a nice laugh, either. He sounded like the Joker in Batman.  The laugh reminded him of his father when he got angry.
He had to be good. There was no closet to hide in here.
The thick mud covered his blonde hair. Clawing at his head, he broke off bits of clay. He remembered that morning and his mother brushing his hair. She said it shone like the sun.
They were going to his new school and she wanted him to look nice for his teacher. If Mommy didn’t find him in time, would he have to stay in grade one? He scrubbed at his head until his hands hurt, yet the dirt remained. He didn’t want to cry, but tears slid down his face and merged with the dirt. They ran into his mouth, the mixture stung his tongue, and he spat it out. More tears ran down his face. His mother didn’t like spitting.
He clenched his fists and pounded at the rug beneath him. It wasn’t long before his hands throbbed. He stopped pounding and began tearing at the ragged fringes along one end of the rug. When his fingers slipped beyond the rug, he touched earth—cold and hard and damp. He shivered.
After what seemed like forever, curiosity overcame his fear and he began to investigate. His eyes, adjusted to the dimness, saw a few feet beyond the rug. A dirt wall, like the one behind him, ended the open space in front. He stretched out his right arm and his fingers felt the dampness of another wall of dirt. To his left, the area stretched into a black space.
He peered into the darkness. Several wooden crates—each containing differently shaped objects too blurry to make out—filled the space. Above him, he saw the wooden door he’d been shoved through. He counted four wooden rungs leading up from the crawl space. The trap door allowed only a sliver of light to enter the space. 
I don’t like the dark.
Mingling scents of mold, dampness, dried animal droppings, closed in on him. It made his throat tight and he coughed. 
He stretched a hand above his head. Sticky strands closed around his fingers. He jerked his hand back, scrubbed the spider webs onto the rug, and retreated to the safety of the woven mat. Maybe it was better not to explore. Sitting Indian-style, he cradled his arms around his chest and rocked back and forth. Beyond where he sat, the cave was jet-black. He tried to hold back his tears. Soft scuffling sounds came from the corners of the dugout. He knew they weren’t human. The rhythm of his rocking increased.
When is Mommy coming? I’m going to curl up here and sleep until she finds me. There’s just enough room. If I close my eyes, I won’t see how dark it is. It will be as dark inside my head as it is on the outside.
He curled into a fetal position. Somewhere close he heard the scurrying of tiny feet. Stuffing his fingers in his ears, he made himself think about playing in the safety of his backyard. Anything to drown out the wild pictures crowding his head. 
He remembered building the castle in his sandbox. He was scooping out the moat when someone called his name. The man came into the backyard. 
“I have a surprise for you.”
The chocolate was soft and gooey. “More in the truck,” the man said. But he didn’t have any more. He lied.
 He remembered the smelly rag being pressed into his mouth, he remembered the bandana tied over his eyes, he remembered the man grabbing him, running with him, he remembered being shoved in the back of a truck. 
“We’re playing hide and seek,” the man said. “Your mommy has to find you.”
The smell of gas and oil stung his nostrils as a blue tarp landed on top of him. It shut out the sun. He heard a door slam, an engine start, wheels squealing, and the truck sped away. 
How is Mommy going to find me? Maybe he lied about that too.

Excerpt: Out of Forgotten Ashes (PG13)

How but a little chuckle on a Sunday afternoon? Here's an excerpt from Out of Forgotten Ashes, coming out tomorrow morning from Champagne Books.

Set-up: Evan Jones is recovering from a serious injury. His brother, Dylan, is pleasantly surprised when Evan comes by his office in the Wells Fargo Station in Tombstone, and invites him to come along on an errand...

     They headed down the wooden sidewalk and soon arrived at the gun shop. Evan turned the doorknob and pushed in. “Hey, Clanc—”
     An explosion shook the knob from his hand and threw him backward.
     Dylan caught him, staggering. Glass rattled in window frames and boxes of ammo jumped from shelves to burst open, scattering bullets and shells across the floor. Rifles and shotguns teetered, rattled, and fell.
     “What the hell was that?” He helped his brother regain his balance, then darted around him into the shop. “Clancy! Clancy, where are ya?” He slipped on some buckshot, danced to regain his footing, and then stood in the center of the ruined room, looking about in confusion. “Clancy?”
     Men ran in from all directions toward the blast and crowded near the door. “Stay back,” Evan cautioned. “Let us see what’s going on. If you hear shots, get the Sheriff.” He entered the storefront, cautiously, shuffling his feet and cane to avoid sliding on loose bullets.
     Dylan gestured for his brother to toss him a gun. He pointed to a closed door at the back of the shop.
     Nodding, Evan complied, drew his other pistol and cocked the hammer, ready.
     Dylan did the same. They stepped forward—
     A hot blast of foul air nearly knocked them to their knees as the door wrenched open. A muddy shape of a man emerged from a fog of overwhelming stench. Two white orbs stared in shock from brownish-black muck that plastered him head to foot. He oozed into the shop, a melting mudslide.
     Dylan gagged, reached for his handkerchief and held it over his nose. “Clancy?”
     The gooey mass nodded.
     “Good God, man!” Evan choked. “What the hell?”
     “It blew up.” Clancy spat and wiped his face with a filthy hand. 
     “Damn thang blew up.”
     “What blew up?” The Jones brothers spoke together.
     “My turlet. My new inside turlet, that one what I got from the Sears and Roebuck.”
     Dylan gaped, coughing, trying not to breathe. Clancy stood forlorn, gobs of slime plopping and pooling around him on the floor.
     Evan recovered first and holstered his weapon. He burst out laughing, clapped his hand over his mouth and almost lost his balance, sliding with his cane.
     “Tain’t funny!” Clancy crossed his arms over his chest. “Jus’ finished my business on the crapper, pulled the chain—kaboom! Blew me clear into the wall.”
     “No shit?” Evan deadpanned and covered his mouth again.
     “Yeah. Shit everywhere.” Clancy glared at him. “You should see that room.”
    “I think not,” Evan replied, “the smell’s enough.”
     Dylan nodded. He tried to control himself but his shoulders shook with repressed laughter. “Eat a few too many beans for lunch, did ya?”
      “Get outta my shop,” Clancy snarled.
     “Aw c’mon, Clancy.” Dylan chuckled, carefully breathing through his mouth beneath the handkerchief. “Are you all right? I mean, are you hurt anywhere under all that?”
     Slop dribbled to the floor as Clancy shook his head slowly back and forth, trying not to splatter any more than he had to. “Naw, guess not.” He sighed. “Damn thang shot pieces all over, but none hit me that I kin tell. Here I think I’m real civilized, gettin’ this newfangled contraption before you two. Everybody knows you Joneses get new gadgets fast. Anyway, I hooked it into that big ol’ metal water tank Frank Stolski sold me. He even helped me bury it out back there. Real work, getting that in, packed it good and tight. Welded the lid solid, too.”
     “You welded—?” Evan asked. “Didn’t leave a vent?”
     “A what? Hell no, din’t want no leaks.”
     “Needs ventilation,” Dylan said, then covered his nose and mouth again.
     “Like the mines, Clancy,” his brother said.
     Clancy’s eyes grew wide, larger expanses of white in streaks of brown. “I ain’t never worked no mine, but I heard about them gases down there. Mine gases blew my turlet?”
     “No, gases built up in that metal tank,” Evan replied. “All that, uh, waste decomposes and makes gases. Been going on in this heat and you didn’t allow for a vent. You welded the tank and then buried it, so when the vapors built up—”
     “Pressure built inside.” Dylan nodded. “The metal couldn’t rupture underground, packed in tight. When you pulled the chain, the pipe to the tank opened—
     “—and shot everything out like a cannon,” the brothers finished in unison.
     “Aw, hell,” Clancy said. “Ain’t that my luck?” He looked at the Joneses, head tilted. “You go ahead and take what you came in fer, boys. Pay me later. I’m going out back to lay under the pump for an hour.”
     Dylan helped Evan and they backed out of the shop...They gulped lungfuls of gritty late afternoon air for long minutes before heading to the Crystal Palace Saloon...
     “So how’s Owen doing?” Dylan asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
     Evan savored his beer before replying. “He’s a hard worker. He’s finishing the fence repairs this afternoon, glad of the pay.”
     “There alone with your wife.”
     “And just what is that supposed to mean?”
     Dylan turned to face his younger brother. “How much do you really know of him? He shows up out of nowhere. No letter asking afore, nothing with him but a change of clothes.”
     Evan blinked with surprise. “Don’t you remember how he pulled me out of that fire? He saved my life. I can trust him.”
     “That was fifteen years ago, and a tragedy all around. Times, people change. You said Reyna’s been skittish this week. Look you, she’s good reason to be jumpy after what happened to her in Sabino Canyon.” Dylan raised his brows and held his brother’s gaze for some time, remembering his sister-in-law’s ordeal at the hands of the vicious outlaw Frank Howe. It had been three years, but the nightmare still occasionally beset his sleep. He could only imagine what bad dreams plagued Reyna—and Evan.

Note: This scene is based on true newspaper accounts.  "Turlets" exploded far more often that you'd think! Especially when there was no public sewage system and information about septic tanks wasn't widely available.  Certainly makes you appreciate modern plumbing, doesn't it?