Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Truckin' Release Day Giveaway

Let's Keep On Truckin', by Laci Paige (and Decadent Publishing). 

Cover Art, by Mina Carter


Lily loves traveling on her job since no one can do it better than her. Being out on the open road gives her plenty of time to reflect and avoid unwanted attention, but somehow it always finds her....

When she comes across Ryder, first at a grocery store, then at a rest stop, sexual desire sparks and she knew she had to have him. If only her ex hadn't shown up, igniting a fantasy she never thought possible.

Seeing Alex in a whole new light, Lily realizes second chances are in order, but will she have to choose between the two men? Or could she be happy with both? 

*Adult content*

Purchase Sites: 

Decadent Publishing
All Romance eBooks
Book Strand
Smash Words


Leave a comment, and on May 15th using random.org, I will give one digital copy of my debut novella, Let's Keep On Truckin', in any format to the winner. (If winner does not have an eReader I will send the pdf version for viewing on their computer). 

Have a happy day, and keep on truckin'!

<3 Laci

The Winner of a Western Time Travel by Linda LaRoque

Is Debby!

Debby, email me at llaroque@hot.rr.com and tell me which story you'd prefer--A Law of Her Own or A Marshal of Her Own.

Thank you all for your comments!


Winner of Avril Ashton's giveaway...

is DEBBY!!!

Debby, please email me @ avril.ashton@yahoo.com with the title of the ebook of your choice and I'll get it out to you.

Many thank to the Goddess Fish peeps!

@AvrilAsh on twitter

Monday, May 7, 2012

Winner of Tina Donahue Contest

Thanks to everyone who came by yesterday and helped me celebrate the release of Sinfully Wicked.

I've now chosen my winner and it's TEE - congrats - I've just emailed you about your prize. :)


Tina Donahue
“Heat with Heart”

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

Website: http://www.tinadonahue.com/
Twitter: http://twitter.com/tinadonahue

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Good night and thanks for coming out!

Good night everyone! It has been a blast! Don't forget that I'm giving away a free copy of Better Late Than Never to a lucky reader. To enter into the drawing just send an email to authorstephaniemorris@gmail.com with contest in the subject line. Inside the email provide an answer to this question. "What is your favorite theme to read in a romance novel?" I will pull the lucky winners name tonight once the Goddess Fish Party concludes. Good luck! Stephanie http://www.stephaniemorris.webs.com

Last post of the Night and thanks Time to Make the Donuts MM PG

Well, time to say goodnight! Thanks to everyone who read and or commented on my posts. I hope you enjoyed.

What's next up for me? Well, I'm writing Sugar Daddy which is the final book in the Something New on the Menu series. Just finished a short for an anthology called Hot Summer Fun and my tale is called, One Night in Paradise, and then I have another short, a shifter mm that might end up being MMF that I'm writing with Wicked Sexy Writers.

I'll leave you with a blurb and excerpt from my MM out now with NNP called Time to Make the Donuts! Thanks again for listening!

Blurb: Andre, a customer, comes in and pays him a visit. The two lock eyes and immediately connect on a personal level. Because of this, Christopher decides to pursue when Andre passes him his card. He wonders what the young man does for a living however, he’s so smitten by him, Chris doesn’t give it much thought.

Little does the shop owner know, Andre actually works for his biggest competitor as a secret shopper and has been told to use any method necessary to find out the secrets of the shop as well as convince him to sell his shop and become part of the national chain.

When Christopher finds out, he has a surprise for Andre and deals with him in a rather humorous way. Will he trust Andre once he finds out this fact? Will he give up his shop under the pressure the well known franchise?

With the song Manic Monday by the Bangles playing on the overhead, Jesse stood behind the cashier Wanda, getting orders for customers while Christopher finished putting the third batch of donuts in the oven. The owner always felt better when the store officially opened for business making him forget about the lack of sleep he got from the night prior or the fact he’d been in the restaurant since two a.m.
He pushed the double doors open as he came from the kitchen, watching the customers lining up in front of the register. They were ready to give their morning rush orders of coffee and donuts or bagels. Others who had time sat at the long laminate counter waiting for one of the waitresses to take their requests. Bigger groups of people or those who liked to take in the atmosphere sat in booths to sample the diner’s finest delicacies. Part of the charm of Christopher’s place was it catered to everyone in some form or fashion while offering great service. Something he knew that other place could provide.
While waving at a couple of regulars, Christopher started to help Jesse bag a few orders. Unlike most owners, he always chipped in to help on the front lines regardless if it were busy or not.
Jesse smacked him on the shoulder. “Yo dude, you look like you haven’t sleep in weeks.” The husky redheaded woman poured a cup of coffee for a lady in front of her.
“Well thanks,” he frowned. “I’m still being bombarded by calls from that place to get me to sell. They won’t quit. Don’t they get the message?”
“Apparently not. They been callin’ ya at home?”
“No on the cell and all because that one girl that used to work here got employed by them. They thought by doing that, they’d be able to pick up some secrets or learn something new about me, or the restaurant. Didn’t they know I brainwash my former workers,” he laughed.
“You wish. You just don’t share anything important which is smart, now me on the other hand,” She cocked an eyebrow. “I could be an asset to someone if they swayed me to leave.”
Christopher stopped immediately and glared at her. “You’d never.”
She drew up her lips. Within seconds she guffawed and smacked him on the back pretty hard. “Babe, no, never. I’m just messin’ wicha. I’d never leave your side. I told you the day Jayson died I’d help you run the place till we couldn’t do it anymore and I meant it. You know I’m a rebel at heart. I couldn’t go anywhere and work for “the man” and feel comfortable. I ain’t wearin’ no suit and tie for nobody.”
Christopher choked a little from the slap and let out a small sigh of relief. He didn’t know what he’d do without Jesse if she left. Good thing she always had such a good sense of humor and because he liked her as his second in command, he vowed never to piss her off if he could help it. Yes, they’d had run-ins a couple of times over various decisions but he knew most of the time the two of them would come to an agreement in the end.
“Well I’m glad about that.” He straightened his tie and shrugged his shoulders. “I need you here, Jess. No bones about that. Most days, I’m not sure what I’d do without your intellect.”
She blushed and chuckled. “Aw, Christopher, I swear if I didn’t like women and you didn’t like men we’d be a match made in heaven, right?”
A woman with a baby in front of them giggled and took her bag.
Christopher sighed, “Jesse, we really need to stop talkin’ about our personal business up here, huh?”
“Yes, duly noted boss man. Sooo…maybe we should go in the back so I can ask you about the dude I hooked you up with last week.” She nodded and turned to him.
“Um, nothin’ really to tell. I’m sorry Jesse, he’s just not what I’m looking for.”
The manager rolled her eyes. “Just what the hell are you searchin’ for in a man, Chris? You gotta lower your standards just a little don’t you? Ain’t no pretty boy with money and a squeaky clean disposition comin’ into your life any time soon.”
“That might be true but, well, he just didn’t do it for me. I liked that he’s self-sufficient, he’s pretty burly which I, erm, well, I’m not into overly muscular men. He doesn’t have to be a model but he does have to be easy on the eyes.” Christopher paused, “Didn’t I just say I didn’t want to talk about my business up here?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“Oh sorry, let’s go in the back a moment then. I gotta hear the rest of this. Wanda, you okay hon, since the rush is about done?”
The younger blond nodded, “Yep, I’ll call ya’ if I need ya.”
“Great.” Jesse gripped Christopher’s shoulder. “To the back then chief to get another batch ready then, huh?”
“Yep. We’ll be back, Wanda.” Christopher went through the doors and Jesse followed him. He really enjoyed when he and Jesse could work and talk at once. Made the day go by a lot faster. If only he had something other than his seemingly desperate romantic situations to converse about.

All Romance   Smashwords and Amazon

RAWIYA is the more sensual erotica writer in the BLRawiya duo. Rawiya's first book, Time to Make the Donuts will be out in Feb of 2012 from Naughty Nights Press and her first MMF Living in the Now will be released in April from NNP. She has several shorts in anthologies, the latest, That Thing in the STARbooks collection, Tall Dark and Delicious. A lot of her shorts are also on Every Night Erotica. She blogs regularly at Erotic Dairies and Wicked Sexy Writers. For more please visit the Rawiyas blog on Wordpress.

Smooth Like Latte MM PG Excerpt

Coming up late this month is my m/m romance from NNP the 3rd  book in the Something New on the Menu series, Smooth like Latte.

This story has spawned 2 more stories with the supporting character causing trouble in one and then getting his own book after that. These muses were truly a joy to work with and the cover truly captures the men I thought of when writing it.

What I love most about Latte, or Davori Jenkins who is the secondary muse, is his honesty and his desire to be with Brendan Walsh. He's not afraid to take a chance and his smooth demeanor is what makes Brendan give him more than a second look. 

Here is the tenative blurb and an excerpt

Brendan Walsh, CEO of Walsh Financial has put his life on hold to make his father proud. Because of this, he’s melancholy most of the time and is beginning to develop a love for Scotch and disdain for his dad.

Davori “Latte” Jenkins is a happy go lucky barista with several talents, the most important, his way with words and when Brendan steps into his place of employment, sparks fly between the two and immediately, they feel the connection. Over a macchiato latte, Brendan might see his future man but will he gain enough strength to tell his father about his orientation?

 Brendan knew it had been awhile since he’d visited Cathy’s shop, but he didn’t remember her having this much traffic. He shrugged his shoulders, took his place in line, pulling out the latest Walsh sales reports. What’s she selling that’s so good?
Maybe it’s a free coffee day? Free donuts? Who knew, but he’d stay in line regardless of how long it took to find out.
After about fifteen minutes, Brendan started rubbing his temples. He felt a headache coming on from reading the figures for so long, and the need for caffeine bothered him as well. He’d finally made it inside the shop, but the line still dragged out the door. What on earth is in this here that’s so high in demand? He placed the papers back in his case, folding his arms over his chest.
Another step closer to the counter.  He took a look at this place he hadn’t visited in a while. The same bright colors as the murals outside, black chairs and tables filled with people either busy at their laptops or spreading the latest office gossip. Cathy and her dad Mike were fans of jazz music; they liked the idea of the festive atmosphere as a backdrop for their shop. Another reason why Brendan refused to sell out to the bigger competitor. He wanted something non-corporate in the food court. Something that wasn’t just part of a chain, but its own entity. The younger Walsh understood business; this was the one place inside his building where he felt that small and independent was better.
Brendan took another step, searching for the shop owner. Cathy had been very instrumental when they’d opened this place a couple of years ago. He admired the relationship she had with her dad; he noticed her parent actually cared about what she thought. If only the older Mr. Walsh would do the same.
“Hmm, today, maybe a macchiato would be good. Haven’t had a true one in a…” Brendan stopped thinking aloud, his eyes fixed on the man behind the counter. He tilted his head a little, to get a better look. Who is he?
A tall man about six feet, with skin the color of lightly creamed coffee. Broad shoulders, light green eyes… or were they something else, maybe blue or hazel? Who knew, but damn was this man hot.
His perfectly trimmed goatee began under his nostrils and wrapped around his mouth and onto his chin. He wore a black fitted turtleneck that showed the muscles in his upper torso; even under Brendan’s scrutiny, the handsome man continued to make beverages with ease. Brendan noticed the young man next to him seemed only to serve donuts and pies from the fridge, now and then a juice. Could it be the line was so long because of the sexy barista making the drinks? Has to be it. Brendan could see no other reason for it. Not only was the man attractive, he was good at his job.
The closer he moved to the front of the line, the more intrigued he became. He thought about talking to the hunky man as he made his drink. But what the heck would he say? “Hey, I’m Brendan and I own the building.” Brendan smirked to himself, knowing that most likely wouldn’t work.
Due to his inexperience in the relationship department, he didn’t know how to pick up a guy. The only words exchanged in bars were hey, you’re hot, wanna go home with me, or wanna meet me in the bathroom—nothing more.
Besides that, was the guy behind the counter into men, or was he unfortunately heterosexual? Brendan sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, still gazing at the hunk.
Make mine slow and creamy. I like it that way.
RAWIYA is the more sensual erotica writer in the BLRawiya duo. Rawiya's first sole author book, Time to Make the Donuts will be out in Feb of 2012 from Naughty Nights Press and her first MMF Living in the Now will be released in April from NNP. She has several shorts in anthologies, the latest, That Thing in the STARbooks collection, Tall Dark and Delicious. A lot of her shorts are also on Every Night Erotica. She blogs regularly at Erotic Dairies and Wicked Sexy Writers. For more please visit the Rawiyas blog on Wordpress.

2nd Excerpt (R) Love the Sinner-M/M~Avril Ashton

BLURB: Detective Gabriel Ashby has never looked twice at another man, yet the criminal across from him, the man he’s interrogating, isn’t like any other. Gabe can’t deal with the sudden, intense need he has for one of NYPD’s Most Wanted. Everyone close to Angelo Pagan ends up dead, with the smug gang leader standing amid the rubble. Gabe would love nothing more than to bust Angelo’s ass and lock him up. So why is he seeing the bastard in his dreams at night?
 Angelo Pagan knows attraction to Gabe is suicide. He’s resolute to ignore the chemistry…until a police raid goes wrong. He critically injures Gabe, changing the trajectory of both their lives. Now the two can’t get close enough. They settle into a forbidden affair threatened by lies and betrayal, living on different sides of the law with no way of breaching the gap between them. With the authorities looking to make an example of Angelo, Gabe has to decide if it’s really worth it to hate the sin but love the sinner.


He trudged up the stairs to his house and fitted the key into the lock with frozen fingers. The instant he stepped through the door, the hairs on his nape shot up. He blinked in the darkness, keeping the lights off as he reached inside his coat pocket and grasped the cool butt of his SIG, his personal piece.
Standing with his back against the closed door, he waited, quieting his breathing. Nothing moved. Had he imagined the presence of someone else? He’d been on edge since the shooting—hell, even before that. Since I questioned him.
Damn it.
He wasn’t supposed to think about that. About him.
Gabe kept his grip on the SIG, not entirely convinced he was imagining things. Bending over, he placed the beer at his feet carefully, flicking on the light as he straightened.
“Took you long enough.”
No. Gabe gulped in a lungful of air. Angelo Pagan leaned against the archway leading into his living room, arms crossed, relaxed sensuality oozing from his every pore. Clad in head-to-toe black, the man looked like the sexiest freaking burglar ever.
Gabe’s feet were moving before he realized his intentions. Grabbing Pagan by the throat, he slammed him into the wall and pressed the gun under his chin.
“Why the fuck are you in my house?” The too-familiar musk of spice and heat hit his nose.
“Watch where you put that gun.”
Gabe’s knees weakened at the lazy drawl. The man he’d been trying so hard to forget was in his arms. He pulled off the black wool cap covering Pagan’s head and watched in starved fascination as long dark hair tumbled over his wide shoulders.
“Pagan.” Wincing at the hoarseness in his voice, Gabe cleared his throat. Long, curled lashes fluttered, lifted. Those expressive brown eyes met his and he bit the inside of his cheek.
One word and Gabe was back inside that interrogation room.
“Why are you here?” He ignored the needy cock twitching between his legs and kept hold of the gun with a not-so-steady grip.
Those eyes held him captive. He couldn’t look away, he didn’t want to even as the voice in the back of his mind demanded he run.
“Lose the SIG, amado.”
Gabe blinked. Ama-who? “No.”
Pagan smiled and Gabe had no problems breaking eye contact then. He dropped his gaze to those lips curved just so and bit back a groan. God, the many times he’d lain awake next to Trish imagining ways to abuse those lips, that mouth.
He jerked his gaze back to Pagan’s eyes. Shit. Shouldn’t have.
“Six weeks is way too long, amado.” Pagan rocked into him, his arousal bumping Gabe’s.
Gabe closed his eyes on a hiss. Heat crawled up his spine. “Don’t. Don’t do this.”
Dios, cop.” Pagan touched him; warm fingers dipped under Gabe’s collar and brushed his nape.
He shivered.
“Look at me.”
His eyes flew open at the harsh command. Pagan stared him down, nostrils flared.
“You’re drinking too much.” Concern flashed across Pagan’s face before he smoothed it away. “You can’t numb it with alcohol.”
Jesus. Gabe’s eyes stung. “Why the hell are you here? Go away.” The gun he still held trembled violently.
Pagan’s expression grew serious. Sad. “I’m here making sure you’re all right. Making sure you’re not in pain.” His lips twisted. “Physically.”
“And why the fuck do you care?” Gabe shot back. “You tried to freaking kill me.”
¡Idiota!” The fingers at Gabe’s neck tightened. “If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be breathing right now.” He jerked his chin toward Gabe’s wounded shoulder. “That bullet saved your life. I saved your life.”
Gabe snorted. “Yeah. Whatever.”
“Listen to me, cop.” Pagan leaned forward, bringing their faces mere inches apart. “I need you alive. I need you breathing.” He took in a breath then let it out in a rush. “I need you.”
Gabe wanted to run as far away as he could from those eyes reflecting his needs back at him, but more than that he wanted to taste the man in his arms.
He wanted so bad and so fierce.
“Lose the gun, cop.”
Gabe followed the slow movement of his own hand as he lowered the gun. He tucked it into the small of his back before meeting Pagan’s eyes. The cold air disappeared, replaced with flames licking at his skin.
“Pagan.” He growled the name as he shuffled closer. Pagan grabbed his lapels and pulled him in even tighter.
Gabe lifted a trembling hand and did what he’d wanted to from day one—he slid his fingers through Pagan’s thick hair. The soft strands wrapped around his fingers like silk.
Pagan shuddered. Gabe cupped his jaw. The short hairs of his stubble pricked his palm.
“I’m not…” He licked his lips. Pagan’s eyes dilated. “I’ve never…I’m not gay.” If he hadn’t been losing himself in those gold eyes he’d have missed their slight widening.
Pagan shifted away, out of his hold and Gabe never felt emptier.
Mierda.” Pagan shoved his fingers through his hair. “I…you…” Anguish bled from his eyes and roughened his voice. He turned away.
“Angelo.” Gabe grabbed his arm. Electricity crackled and popped at the skin-on-skin contact. “Please.”
“You don’t want this, right? So let me go, cop.” Pagan’s gaze flicked down to where Gabe held him. “Let me go.”
Gabe swallowed. “I can’t.” He tightened his hold on the thick wrist. “I can’t.” The thought of watching Pagan walk away, of never seeing him again, punctured something in his chest. But what would be the result of him staying? Could he be with a man, this man?
QuĂ© quieres, Gabe? What do you want?”
His name on Pagan’s lips sounded so good. So right. Gabe looked at him, trying but failing to find words.
“Damn it, Gabe.” Pagan wrenched out of his hold and grabbed his shoulders. “Tell me what you want.”
“To kiss you.” The words tumbled from his lips, harsher than he intended. “Just once. To know what it’s like. What you taste like.”
Pagan’s eyes darkened.
“Maybe then I’ll be able to forget you.”
Pagan arched an eyebrow and stepped forward. “You think it’s that simple?”
Gabe held his ground. “Yeah.”
“So do it.” They stood chest to chest. Pagan’s warm breath caressed Gabe’s forehead when he said softly, “Kiss me, cop. Then try to forget me.”

Get it from Ellora's Cave May 9: http://bit.ly/ImoN94

Comment on any of my day-long posts to be entered to win an ecopy of one of my two upcoming releases. 

Armed and Outrageous excerpt

I slid the door open and found Eleanor leaning against the white fence that completely wrapped around the deck and extended all the way down to the lake.

If you looked up at the house from the lake, you’d notice how the upstairs’ triangle windows looked like a pair of gigantic eyes, or maybe it was just me that saw these things. I was always one to see more into inanimate things than the average person.

She didn’t turn at my approach.

"Why in the world, Eleanor, would you leave your door unlocked?"

Eleanor turned around with an indignant expression on her face. Her large frame squeezed into a matching mustard colored shirt and Capri pants. On her feet, she wore white flip-flops. I couldn’t understand how she could walk in the blasted things.

Eleanor had blue eyes that simply danced, and her well-wrinkled skin was covered with large moles, as if collecting them. Her thin, gray hair was curled today ... her hair appointment had been only yesterday. When she laughed, which she did often—her whole belly shook.

"Why would I lock the door? I knew you’d be coming straight here after getting the paper. How is Roy this morning?" She giggled and tried unsuccessfully to stop.

"You’re the one that has eyes for him, not me, Eleanor."

"Really? Do you think he would be interested?" Her eyes bobbed and danced suggestively.

Ignoring her chatter, I held up the newspaper and handed it to Eleanor to read. She carried it to one of her white wicker chairs and sat reading the article before handing it back to me.

"It said the same thing on the news this morning. The girl’s father is on his way here too," Eleanor said, putting her hand against her mouth as if someone else could hear her. "Word is that he is staying at Robinson’s Manor while he’s here."

"Put your hand down, and start acting serious for once. How in the world does he think he can get in there? They are always booked this time of year."

"There is one suite that is always empty. I heard they remodeled it real quick like just to accommodate him."

"Certainly not … the suite?"

"One and the same."

"The suite where Mrs. Robinson was raped and murdered in?" I couldn’t believe it. "Nobody in their right mind would want to stay in—that room. Maybe he doesn’t know."

"Beats me, but word is he wants to be close to the place where his daughter went missing."

I cleared my throat. "Where exactly would that be, Eleanor?"

"I was hoping you would ask. Not far from Quick Stop. It was the party store she was going to on Tuesday."

I stood and walked back through the house with Eleanor hot on my heels. "You won’t find anything there. If the police haven’t found anything, what makes you think you will?"

"Eleanor, I’m a concerned citizen, and it’s my god given right to get to the bottom of this. It could be related to Sophia’s disappearance. What if all of these cases are related?"

Eleanor put her hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Honey, I know you want to believe that, and I’m not saying you’re wrong, but it’s a long shot. I hope Sophia is still alive too, but Agnes, it’s been a year."

I wiped away a tear that formed. "I know you’re right, but I have to do this."

"Would you like company at least?"

I gave Eleanor a strange look. "I’m not sure you will fit in my Mustang."
We both laughed for a minute while Eleanor retrieved her keys. "I’m driving."

"I don’t think, th-that’s a good idea."

"Don’t be silly, Agnes. You might want to move out of my way. I would hate to lose a good friend at my age."

Eleanor went into her garage and backed out her gray 1980 Cadillac Seville. It only had 50,000 miles, but that was hard to believe with the damage on the body—part of the reason I wanted to drive. They say a Cadillac is built like a tank, one of the main reasons I raised money and bought her the car.

Eleanor didn’t have much luck in her life except inheriting a house from a nephew who’d died unexpectedly a few years back. Her only son, Edward, had nothing to do with her. I met her at the Mikado bingo, quite a distance from where we lived. We were surprised to learn we lived only a mile apart from one another. I was immediately taken in by her quick wit, and I thought of her as a sister I never had—the perfect partner in crime.

Eleanor opened the car door for me. "Don’t be afraid, I promise I can see much better with these new glasses."

I had my doubts about her driving skills, but I climbed in nonetheless. Right on cue, Eleanor hopped in, cranked the engine, and slammed her foot on the pedal. Rocks flew up and tinged the roof; hot tin roof came to mind. She tore off down the road toward Quick Stop. She swerved and didn’t stay in her lane, but we made it there without incident, thanks to the grace of God.

Win a free e-book

I'm giving away a free copy of Better Late Than Never to a lucky reader. To enter into the drawing just send an email to authorstephaniemorris@gmail.com with contest in the subject line. Inside the email provide an answer to this question. "What is your favorite theme to read in a romance novel?" I will pull the lucky winners name tonight once the Goddess Fish Party concludes. Good luck! Stephanie http://www.stephaniemorris.webs.com

Book of the Heart...Cancer Love

by Tanya Hanson

Well, everybody says their book is a book of the heart...but my Sanctuary truly is. I nearly lost my hubby to testicular cancer. I still get shivers in the night. But on Easter Sunday (no coincidence IMO), he celebrated his fourth anniversary cancer-free!

That all said and sniffed over, I know he wouldn’t be here without the scientific advances at Indiana University-Bloomington (you go, Dr. Einhorn!!) of the last 30 years.

So...comment to this question so I can maybe draw your name as the winner of the Full Set of my Hearts Crossing Ranch series at Pelican Book Group. (leave your e-addy, too, please.)

What is the greatest scientific advancement of the last fifty years?

Here’s the blurb for Sanctuary, which was an exclusive feature and web review at Romantic Times! (P.s. Mallie is based on the real-life struggle of our dear, 32-year old family friend who is desperately battling glioma. Please say a prayer if you’ve a mind.)

Ranch foreman and single dad Hooper Martin is ready to put his health and life back on track after battling testicular cancer...including re-entering the dating scene. His little girl sure could use a mother. Falling hard for wedding guest Malia Cameron makes perfect sense to him: she's a survivor, too. 

Mallie has put her heart on hold, knowing she will never recover from her struggle with a brain tumor. She can't promise a future to anybody and vows never to fall in love. Letting Hooper Martin into her life would be a big mistake. But his good looks take her breath away, and his living faith starts to gentle her confusion about Who's really in charge.

Once, again, what in your opinion is the greatest scientific advancement of the last 50 years?

~Tanya Hanson

How My GLADIATOR Came to Be-Erotic Romance

This picture describes in visual detail the attitude of my post apocalyptic Gladiator, Tristan Shane. I saw the description of a YA futuristic novel about child prodigies, one a sleuth, the other a criminal. I saw the cover of an inspirational cover romance of a Roman gladiator. And suddenly my brain clicked into motion, post apocalyptic erotic romance. It's title-GLADIATOR. And as I wrote it I realized it had series potential. I wrote it for NaNoWriMo last year and scored a contract for it at the end of December.

Everything happened fast with this novel. From inspiration to germination to synthesis. And writing it I was on a caffeine high for three weeks (first draft). It's releasing this August. Nothing is hotter to me than Daniel Craig in a loin cloth. At least to me. LOL. Bad ass. With a sword. And there's nothing better to me than an angry and bitter and tortured hero healed and redeemed by the love an innocent woman. It's due out in August and I don't have a cover yet, but here's a taste of it.

Back Cover:
Ten years ago Tristan Shane had failed to pick sides and he paid with the ultimate price—his family.  Enslaved as a post-apocalyptic gladiator, he is now faced with a similar dilemma, serve the despot  Queen and murder her innocent sister, or face certain death himself. What will he choose?
Tristan Shane was a moderate before the nuclear and economic crisis which plunged the world into darkness. While his sister Aidia ran off to fight the rebel’s war he desperately tried to hang onto normalcy and lost his wife and children in the process. Spending the next ten years as the Crown’s favored and the mob’s favorite Gladiator, he never expects to meet the Queen’s sister, Alexandra, a Healer.
She claims to be the much whispered about Savior sent to heal the wounded Earth and oceans, the one who would bring about her cruel sister’s dethroning. But is she? Or is she just a fraud? But he quickly learns her erotic touch has the power to heal his heart and his to save her life. But as the passion heightens and the danger increases will they have forever or will he have to give up everything to save the planet?
“What is it you want, Veronica?”
She leaned in close and whispered seductively, “Why, you know I only want you, Tristan.”
He snatched her up by her throat, pinned her against the wall and kissed her passionately, brutally, and without clemency. When he pulled away she was smiling with a darkness that made him angry. She was a power-hungry mongrel who played on her husband’s weaknesses and jealousies. Tristan hated her. And he hated himself for f***ing her. But this was his life. He let go of her and walked away.
“Is my poor Gladiator jealous? There’s really no need for that, is there? You know you’re my favorite.”
“What is it you really want, Veronica?”
She came up behind him and seductively began to ease off his armor. He was covered in sweat and blood and he felt her shiver against his body. And as always there was a twinge of nausea that would precede the raw animal aggression.
She turned him around. He looked at her. There was no doubt about it; she was beautiful. But she was poisonous—a rattlesnake with crystal green eyes and flaming red hair. Her father had promised peace and a return to normalcy and democracy in the wake of economic and nuclear disaster, and instead this was what had become of the world. And she was no doubt always enjoining her father to maintain her life in this fashion. He loathed her. He detested her. And every time he had sex with her his intense hatred for himself deepened a little bit more.
“My dear, sweet Gladiator, as much as I’d like to celebrate your victory with you tonight, my husband wishes me to share his bed. But fear not—I do have a consolation prize for you.”
His skin began to crawl. Veronica had a twisted way of looking at what constituted a consolation prize; it was usually just a groupie who wanted to watch what the queen did with the equivalent of rock stars of the former United States of America. And he usually did the dog and pony show. But sometimes Veronica required something to prove his loyalty to her. That would be more complicated.
“What is it this time?”
She smiled. His response had given her the mistaken impression that he cared.
“The rebels have been restless. And it seems there is a young woman we have in our prison whom they want terribly. Well, frankly, they are in two minds as to what to believe. It is rumored she is the mythical Healer. The one meant to find her soul mate, so together they will lead our Nation out of the so-called darkness into which it has plunged itself.”
“And what do you want me to do?”
“Oh Tristan, why are you being so defensive? I just want you to find out whether she really is the Healer, and report to me if she is.”
“And then, what?”
“And then you let me handle it,” Veronica said, sliding back into the evil skin that was her natural state. “The rebels have no idea what it takes to run a country.”
The image of his wife being raped and murdered flooded him and it was all he could do not to throttle the queen right then and there.
“So can I count on you to do this for me or do I need to find someone else who can?”
He was no one’s hero. But she had said young woman. And he couldn’t just allow his wife’s fate to be visited upon some other unsuspecting girl. “I’ll do what I can.”
Veronica ran her index finger down his cheek and whispered, “Good boy, Tristan,” she purred. “Guard! She’ll be delivered before the night is over. I don’t know when I’ll be able to return to you, but I expect that you’ll have had enough time to gain her trust by then.”
Tristan’s stomach churned. The Healer? In the beginning there had been whispers of it. But he had never believed in such a thing. It had been years since the crown had feared anything. And now this. He said nothing as the queen was escorted away. He was left to think about the young woman he might be forced to turn over in the end.