A Short & Sweet Interview with MFRW Author Jasmine Hill.
Jasmine was born in Australia and grew up in Sydney. She currently lives in Madrid, Spain with her husband. She adores reading all genres but in particular she enjoys erotic romance novels and thrillers. Jasmine loves writing and is always looking for new ideas for stories that will provoke inner passions, stimulate the senses and ignite the imagination. Her interests include cooking, traveling, yoga and skiing.
She has won some short story competitions and is now excited to have started publishing her erotic romance stories through Totally Bound Publishing.
Why did you decide to write romance novels?
I love reading romance novels and I enjoy writing so to me, it made sense that I try my hand at writing my own novel.
How much of your personality and life experiences are in your writing?
Quite a lot of me can be found in the pages of my books. I'm a big believer in writing what I'm familiar with (including story settings). Readers will quickly identify whether or not an author is not acquainted with a particular place or activity.
What kind of research do you do for a book?
I like to write about what I know or, at least be able to access the information I need. the internet is very handy to substantiate facts (particularly for historicals) although I'm careful with what resources I use on the internet (not all sites can be relied on for veracity). For my latest book I asked my husband and mother in law many questions regarding the outback lifestyle and life on a sheep station.
What is your writing routine once you start a book?
I like to write at least 3 - 4000 words a day, usually in the morning. Sometimes I manage more, sometimes it's less but that's the goal I work towards, depending on the expected book length.
What do you do to relax and recharge your batteries?
Often I read and I find that a daily exercise regime helps to clear out the cobwebs. Most often I do something unrelated to the book I'm writing so I can take a break and gain some fresh perspective.
Who are some of your favorite authors to read?
My all time favorite author has to be Jane Austen. I can read her books over and over again. I also enjoy Sylvia Day and more recently I've been reading Deborah Bladon.
Tell us about your latest book. What motivated the story? Where did the idea come from?
My latest book, Lillian's Light Horseman, is an historical erotic romance set in the Australian outback in 1921.It’s a story about star-crossed childhood sweethearts who re-unite after ten years — with interesting consequences. My husband grew up on a sheep station in Western NSW. The property was settled on his grandfather by the Australian Government for his services as an Australian Light Horseman in WWI. The novel is VERY loosely based around him. There are some family stories involving a love triangle, a governess and a broken heart.
Lillian's Light Horseman
Erotic Romance
Totally Bound Publishing
The year is 1921, Lillian Hamilton at twenty-six, is alone, desperate and living in England. An ocean away in outback Australia, her childhood sweetheart and decorated Light Horseman, William Cartwright, is running a sheep station and nursing a deep betrayal while the local ladies vie for his attention. But Lillian and William’s paths are about to cross once again, unexpectedly and dynamically, spinning each of them into turmoil, igniting past hurts and spurring them to a wary truce.
As they work through their deep-seated issues of distrust, others are conspiring against them, until a shocking revelation sends Lillian running out of the safety of William’s arms and into the path of another man. William will have to work against time to find Lillian before he loses her forever.
Are the span of an ocean, ten years and a cruel deception, too much for love to overcome?
EXCERPT
She’d forgotten the desolation of the Australian outback—how dusty and dry it was and how unbearably hot it could be. She was lucky that she’d arrived in winter but the days in the outback, even in winter, could still be warm. She knew that her clothes would be impractical for the environment but there was not a lot she could do about that. Her wardrobe was designed for English weather and she knew that as the days grew warmer, her dresses and skirts of durable, heavy European fabric would be oppressively uncomfortable.
They drew nearer to Mulga Creek Sheep Station and her nervousness increased, making her palms damp and clammy. She’d spent the past ten years trying to forget about William and her memories of their time together, first as childhood friends then as childhood sweethearts, only now to put herself into a position where those bittersweet memories would be thrust to the forefront of her consciousness. She wondered where William was living and whether he bore any resemblance to the young man of nineteen he had been when last she’d seen him.
The buggy rounded a bend in the road and the homestead finally came into view. The house was newly painted white and glowed welcomingly in the midday sun. A garden fronting the residence was filled with hardy, durable flowers and plants—the only type to survive in such a dry and unforgiving climate. Geraniums and wattle bordered a pathway that led to the front door and an extensive vegetable garden took up the right side of the house adjacent to the kitchen.
The sight of the homestead and the sudden pang of déjà vu that it brought with it took Lillian’s breath away, and all too soon they were pulling up in the long drive and the station hand was unloading her belongings.
“I’ll take your trunk inside, miss. Mrs. Thompson has gone into Bourke to run errands. She asked that you wait in the drawing room for the boss. I’ll let him know that you’re here.”
Lillian’s anxiety deepened. She’d expected that Mrs. Thompson would be at the homestead to greet her and had hoped that she’d be present to ease any awkwardness that might arise when James Cartwright discovered her identity.
Lillian followed the station hand into the house and stopped in the hall to assess her reflection in the mirror. The image that greeted her made her gasp in shock. Her hair, which she’d styled so carefully that morning, was coming loose from its chignon and fell in dusty ringlets around her shoulders. And her face, usually of a peaches and cream complexion, was caked in a fine layer of red outback dust. She stepped back and surveyed her travelling attire, unsurprised to find that her skirt and jacket were creased and covered in fine ocher-colored powder. She’d forgotten how quickly the outback dirt permeated everything—even her mouth was gritty with the stuff.
She couldn’t meet James Cartwright looking like she did. She needed to freshen up. Making a decision, she left the hall and went in search of someone to assist her. Finding a maid in the kitchen, she requested a basin of water and a cloth and quickly scrubbed her face and hands. She scraped her hair back and re-pinned the escaped tendrils as best she could. There was nothing much she could do with her attire, so she settled for patting herself all over liberally with the damp cloth. It would have to do. One more inspection of her reflection in the hall mirror confirmed that she looked moderately better.
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 29, 2015
A Short And Sweet #MFRWauthor Interview with Iris Blobel @_Iris_B
Iris Blobel talks with MFRW.
Iris Blobel was born and raised in Germany and only immigrated to Australia in the late 1990s. Having had the travel bug most of her life, Iris spent some time living in Scotland, London, as well as Canada where she met her husband. Her love for putting her stories onto paper only emerged a few years back, but now her laptop is a constant companion. Iris resides west of Melbourne with her husband and her beautiful two daughters as well as their dog. Next to her job at a private school, she also presents a German Program at the local Community Radio.
If money were not an object, where would you most like to live?
Okay, tricky because I moved to Australia 18 years ago from Germany … next best country would possibly be Canada, but hey, we went to Oregon two years ago and ~ aww, beautiful place!
What song would best describe your life?
Matt Goss - It's the End of the Road
What is your secret guilty pleasure?
Spending almost $2 for a small can of Dr Pepper
If you were stranded on a tropical island, who would it be with?
James Bond
If you were on a reality show, what one would it be?
Big Bang Theory
City life or country life?
I’m a converted country life lover
EBook or paperback?
Ack – both …. EBook to read, Paperback to show off on my shelves.
Let Me Love You
Contemporary Romance
Limitless Publishing
Oliver Dempsey, pitcher for a Melbourne baseball club, loves the women, and they love him… But he keeps them at an arm’s length, and when he meets Tamara, he’s unprepared for the attraction he feels for her. Told by his coach that she’s off limits, only draws him in more. "Oliver Dempsey, pitcher for a Melbourne baseball club, loves the women, and they love him… But he keeps them at an arm’s length, and when he meets Tamara, he’s unprepared for the attraction he feels for her. Told by his coach that she’s off limits, only draws him in more.
EXCERPT
Sweat ran down Oliver’s back soaking his shirt. He’d been on the field for a couple of hours, but frustration grew in him with every ball he missed. He placed his hands on his knees and took a deep breath, fixing his stare at the ground. For Pete’s sake, he was a pitcher, not a hitter and well known for his fastballs as well as his perfect curveballs. Alas, he had neglected his hitting. Today, his swing was at below average and unable to focus, he walked over to the bench where he spotted Coach Becker shaking his head towards him.
Pointing his finger back towards the field, the coach said, “Head right back out there, Oliver. You need to improve your hand-eye coordination. I want to see more, and better.”
Oliver cursed under his breath. “It’s not going to happen. My shoulder’s killing me. It’s been a long day.”
Coach Erik Becker rubbed his face.
“It’s not gonna happen today.” Oliver persisted.
With a grimace on his face, his coach nodded. “Righteo, call it a day. But I want you back out there again in the morning, though.”
Oliver eased off his gloves and shoved them into his back pocket, before removing his helmet.
The coach gave him a gentle slap on his back. “I need you to concentrate more tomorrow. Remember what I told you. You need to focus on your proper stance as well as swinging the bat. Keep your eye on the ball as it comes towards you. Try to connect the bat with the ball, preferably at the fat of the bat. We’re having a game coming up soon. Go and deal with the shoulder issue. Check in for a massage.”
Oliver wiped his forehead with his arm when he noticed a woman standing in the coach’s shadow. Raising his eyebrows, he nodded towards her as to ask who she was.
Erik turned slightly. “Oliver, this is my niece, Tamara. She’s moved here from Perth. Tamara, this is Oliver.”
Oliver extended his hand towards her. “Nice meeting you.”
She ignored his hand and took a step back. Taken aback by her reaction, Oliver instinctively checked his hand for dirt or sweat. Questioning, he looked at his coach.
Iris Blobel was born and raised in Germany and only immigrated to Australia in the late 1990s. Having had the travel bug most of her life, Iris spent some time living in Scotland, London, as well as Canada where she met her husband. Her love for putting her stories onto paper only emerged a few years back, but now her laptop is a constant companion. Iris resides west of Melbourne with her husband and her beautiful two daughters as well as their dog. Next to her job at a private school, she also presents a German Program at the local Community Radio.
If money were not an object, where would you most like to live?
Okay, tricky because I moved to Australia 18 years ago from Germany … next best country would possibly be Canada, but hey, we went to Oregon two years ago and ~ aww, beautiful place!
What song would best describe your life?
Matt Goss - It's the End of the Road
What is your secret guilty pleasure?
Spending almost $2 for a small can of Dr Pepper
If you were stranded on a tropical island, who would it be with?
James Bond
If you were on a reality show, what one would it be?
Big Bang Theory
City life or country life?
I’m a converted country life lover
EBook or paperback?
Ack – both …. EBook to read, Paperback to show off on my shelves.
Let Me Love You
Contemporary Romance
Limitless Publishing
Oliver Dempsey, pitcher for a Melbourne baseball club, loves the women, and they love him… But he keeps them at an arm’s length, and when he meets Tamara, he’s unprepared for the attraction he feels for her. Told by his coach that she’s off limits, only draws him in more. "Oliver Dempsey, pitcher for a Melbourne baseball club, loves the women, and they love him… But he keeps them at an arm’s length, and when he meets Tamara, he’s unprepared for the attraction he feels for her. Told by his coach that she’s off limits, only draws him in more.
EXCERPT
Sweat ran down Oliver’s back soaking his shirt. He’d been on the field for a couple of hours, but frustration grew in him with every ball he missed. He placed his hands on his knees and took a deep breath, fixing his stare at the ground. For Pete’s sake, he was a pitcher, not a hitter and well known for his fastballs as well as his perfect curveballs. Alas, he had neglected his hitting. Today, his swing was at below average and unable to focus, he walked over to the bench where he spotted Coach Becker shaking his head towards him.
Pointing his finger back towards the field, the coach said, “Head right back out there, Oliver. You need to improve your hand-eye coordination. I want to see more, and better.”
Oliver cursed under his breath. “It’s not going to happen. My shoulder’s killing me. It’s been a long day.”
Coach Erik Becker rubbed his face.
“It’s not gonna happen today.” Oliver persisted.
With a grimace on his face, his coach nodded. “Righteo, call it a day. But I want you back out there again in the morning, though.”
Oliver eased off his gloves and shoved them into his back pocket, before removing his helmet.
The coach gave him a gentle slap on his back. “I need you to concentrate more tomorrow. Remember what I told you. You need to focus on your proper stance as well as swinging the bat. Keep your eye on the ball as it comes towards you. Try to connect the bat with the ball, preferably at the fat of the bat. We’re having a game coming up soon. Go and deal with the shoulder issue. Check in for a massage.”
Oliver wiped his forehead with his arm when he noticed a woman standing in the coach’s shadow. Raising his eyebrows, he nodded towards her as to ask who she was.
Erik turned slightly. “Oliver, this is my niece, Tamara. She’s moved here from Perth. Tamara, this is Oliver.”
Oliver extended his hand towards her. “Nice meeting you.”
She ignored his hand and took a step back. Taken aback by her reaction, Oliver instinctively checked his hand for dirt or sweat. Questioning, he looked at his coach.
CONNECT with Iris
My Blog: www.iris-b.blogspot.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/irisblobel
Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/iblobel/
Mar 27, 2015
BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Must Love Breeches @AngelaQuarles #MFRWauthor
Must Love Breeches
Angela Quarles
Mainstream Historical, Time Travel Romance
She's finally met the man of her dreams.
There's only one problem: he lives in a different century.
""A fresh, charming new voice"" – New York Times bestselling author Tessa Dare
A mysterious artifact zaps Isabelle Rochon to pre-Victorian England, but before she understands the card case’s significance a thief steals it. Now she must find the artifact, navigate the pitfalls of a stiffly polite London, keep her time-traveling origins a secret, and resist her growing attraction to Lord Montagu, the Vicious Viscount so hot, he curls her toes.
To Lord Montagu nothing makes more sense than keeping his distance from the strange but lovely Colonial. However, when his scheme for revenge reaches a stalemate, he convinces Isabelle to masquerade as his fiancée. What he did not bargain on is being drawn to her intellectually as well as physically.
Lord Montagu’s now constant presence overthrows her equilibrium and her common sense. Isabelle thought all she wanted was to return home, but as passion flares between them, she must decide when her true home—as well as her heart—lies.
EXCERPT
He wasn’t much for small talk. Amazing, and a smidge intimidating. He stared at her while he whirled her around the floor, mesmerizing her with those eyes. They strayed from hers to linger on her neck and slowly travel to her chest and waist.ABOUT Angela Quarles
Each area of her body tingled as if he’d touched her, and her heart thumped against her chest as if seeking his notice too. Damn heart. Something was different about his eyes, and she couldn’t figure out what it was in the dim lighting. Someone must have finally doused the electric bulbs.
She couldn’t look away. Weird. Her stomach did another flippin’ flip. Not for the first time, she wondered where her confidence traipsed off to around attractive men.
The last guy who’d hit all her lust buttons had derailed her life back in the States. She’d never let that happen again. So, she fought against the too-strong-to-be-safe attraction by doing what she sensed would most likely break the spell, and perhaps turn Lord Laconic from her: talking. Anything to deflect, protect.
“So, is this your first time at one of these shindigs?” She hoped her voice didn’t sound quite so shaky to his ears.
She tore her gaze from his to see if she could spot Andrew. Or Jocelyn, to give her the lookee-what-I-have-here face. Or her boss. She must stay focused on her goal. A flash of bright red hair in the corner. Jocelyn? But the next turn whipped the red hair from view.
“Shindigs?” He pronounced it carefully, drawing her attention back to him. His eyebrows swooped closer together, the inside edges slanting up.
Okay, that was adorable, dammit. “Yeah, you know, these reenactments? You seem quite a natural.” The words sucked up what air was left in her lungs. She concentrated on breathing through her nose. Stay calm.
And––he was still staring at her.
Oh great, did she have something in her teeth? Did she have stinky breath? Did he think she was some uncouth American and regret asking her to dance? She ducked her head and checked her teeth with her tongue and nearly stumbled. She swung her gaze back to his face to regain her rhythm.
He cocked his head to the side. “I am not at all sure what you believe we are reenacting, but unfortunately, I find I am expected to be at these balls with an appalling regularity.”
He had the period syntax and cadence down pat. “Wow, you’re quite good at this. Don’t worry, I’ll try to play along.”
Her partner did the eyebrow-slanting-up-in-the-middle thing and looked away. She could have sworn he muttered ‘Colonials’ under his breath.
Huh? Wait, he was referring to her. “Hey, no need to be rude, and I’m not a Colonial. We soundly beat your hides and settled that score, like, two hundred years ago.” She gave him a playful swat on his shoulder. “Man, you British can sure hold a grudge.”
His head whipped back, and he gawked at her. “Two hundred years ago? Are you daft, woman?”
Surely, she looked like a candidate for the poster child of dumbfoundedness: mouth agape, brow creased. Oh. She chuckled. “I get it. Man, you are good. You don’t break character, do you?”
He continued to stare at her as if she were the one who was nuts. Her smile slipped. She looked away and muttered, “Reenactors.”
Angela Quarles is a geek girl romance writer whose works includes Must Love Breeches, a time travel romance, Steam Me Up, Rawley, a New Adult steampunk romance and Beer & Groping in Las Vegas, a geek romantic comedy in novelette form. She has a B.A. in Anthropology and International Studies with a minor in German from Emory University, and a Masters in Heritage Preservation from Georgia State University. She currently resides in a historic house in the beautiful and quirky town of Mobile, AL.
Website: http://bit.ly/VMFK00 | Blog: http://bit.ly/WkQbXG
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Mar 26, 2015
What the Duke Wants: 13 Favorite Authors on #Thursday13 with #MFRWauthor @AmyQuinton
MFRW author Amy Quinton shares her 13 favorite authors.
Amy Quinton is an author and full time mom living in Summerville, SC. She enjoys writing (and reading!) sexy, historical romances. She lives with her husband, two boys, and two cats. In her spare time, she likes to go camping, hiking, and canoeing/kayaking… And did she mention reading? When she’s not reading, cleaning, or traveling, she likes to make jewelry, sew, knit, and crochet (Yay for Ravelry!).
What the Duke Wants
Agents of Change, Book 1
Erotic Regency Romance
Liquid Silver Books
Upstanding duke desperately seeks accident-prone wife from trade…
1814: Miss Grace (ha!) Radclyffe is an oftentimes hilariously clumsy orphan biding her time until she is old enough to come into her small inheritance. Much to her aunt’s chagrin, she isn’t: reserved, sophisticated, or graceful (she once flung her dinner into a duke’s face). But she is: practical and in love… possibly…
The Duke of Stonebridge is an agent with a tragic past. His father died mysteriously amid speculation that he was ‘involved’ with another man. The duke must restore his family name, but on the eve of his engagement, he meets his betrothed’s cousin, and his world is turned inside out… No matter, he is always: logical and reserved. And he isn’t: impulsive or in love… possibly…
EXCERPT
Amy Quinton is an author and full time mom living in Summerville, SC. She enjoys writing (and reading!) sexy, historical romances. She lives with her husband, two boys, and two cats. In her spare time, she likes to go camping, hiking, and canoeing/kayaking… And did she mention reading? When she’s not reading, cleaning, or traveling, she likes to make jewelry, sew, knit, and crochet (Yay for Ravelry!).
Thirteen Favorite Authors
1. Kresley Cole
2. Julia Quinn
3. Karen Marie Moning
4. Julie Anne Long
5. Eloisa James
6. Johanna Lindsey
7. Kristen Callihan
8. Tessa Dare
9. Elizabeth Hoyt
10. Monica McCarty
11. Sara MacLean
12. Julia London
13. Paula Quinn
What the Duke Wants
Agents of Change, Book 1
Erotic Regency Romance
Liquid Silver Books
Upstanding duke desperately seeks accident-prone wife from trade…
1814: Miss Grace (ha!) Radclyffe is an oftentimes hilariously clumsy orphan biding her time until she is old enough to come into her small inheritance. Much to her aunt’s chagrin, she isn’t: reserved, sophisticated, or graceful (she once flung her dinner into a duke’s face). But she is: practical and in love… possibly…
The Duke of Stonebridge is an agent with a tragic past. His father died mysteriously amid speculation that he was ‘involved’ with another man. The duke must restore his family name, but on the eve of his engagement, he meets his betrothed’s cousin, and his world is turned inside out… No matter, he is always: logical and reserved. And he isn’t: impulsive or in love… possibly…
EXCERPT
Therefore, despite the uncomfortable feeling of wetness seeping through her gown and the faint-though-nearby sound of dripping mud, she did what any sensible lady of good upbringing would do in less than ideal circumstances. She cursed. With conviction.“Bloody hell. Not again.”So maybe she didn’t say that.~Grace now made a herculean effort to pull herself together (and not curse), confident she would be laughing off the memory. Later. Perhaps tomorrow. Or the next day.“Excuse me, my lord? I am afraid the mud might be hardening and whilst I love gardens, I do not want to become a permanent fixture in this one.”There. This is good. My brain is functioning again, albeit a bit impertinently.She let slip a light chuckle hoping to further diffuse the awkwardness of the situation. Who doesn’t appreciate a little self-deprecating humor to smooth over an uncomfortable state of affairs?“Of course. . . May I ask? Does this sort of thing. . . happen. . . often?”Apparently, not this man.~Abruptly, Stonebridge spoke: “Bryans, I want you to find out all you can about a woman here by the name of Miss Grace Radclyffe. I assume she’s a guest.” He wasn’t sure what prompted his request; the words just seemed to burst out of his mouth of their own volition.“No need, Your Grace. She’s all anyone has talked about since we arrived. Apparently, she’s the earl’s niece through his first, now deceased, wife. All the servants are half in love with her, as she’s quite friendly with the staff, knows everyone by their first name and all that. She’s been living here about a year, since her parents died. Her father was a bookseller in Oxford, and probably why she doesn’t put on airs with the staff. Shall I inquire further?”“No, thank you. That will be all.”“Oh, and I almost forgot. It seems she has a peculiar tendency toward clumsiness.”“Don’t I know it,” murmured the duke.“What was that, Your Grace?”“Nothing. That will be all.”“Very good, Your Grace. I shall inquire further without betraying your interest.”The duke ignored the impudence and left without another word, slamming the door behind him.~Stonebridge remained completely still. He closed his eyes as he tried to hold on to her lingering scent and the image of her staring up at him with so much intensity—with desire in her eyes. Then, ever so slowly, he leaned his head against the books where only moments before she had stood within his arms, within his reach. His heart still beat erratically.He had nearly kissed her. And what a mess that would have been. And yet, he was completely undone, for it wasn’t he who had stopped it from happening.
CONNECT with Amy
Web site: http://amyquinton.net
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AmyElizabethQuinton
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AmyQuinton
Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/108235160756248116825/posts
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/amyqu11/amy-quinton-author/
Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/amyquinton
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00RUHIXZ0
Goodreads Author Page: https:/www.goodreads.com/author/show/10912294
TSU: https://www.tsu.co/AmyQuintonAuthor
Werewolves on #MFRWorg #Thursday13 with #MFRWauthor @KryssieFortune
MFRW Author Kryssie Fortune joins us for Thursday 13.
Kryssie Fortune is a Yorkshire lass who is lucky enough to live within driving distance of Whitby - the home all things paranormal and strange. Her husband says she’s part cat - always curious. He's probably right, but Kryssie maintains that she’d rather be part dragon. She loves mythology and visiting ancient sites. That's where she gets lots of her ideas. Although she hasn't met any Yorkshire werewolves yet.
Kryssie has two grown up children of whom she is inordinately proud and a husband she still adores after thirty-eight years of marriage.
Whitby is one of my favorite towns. Both Curse of the Fae King and my new book To Mate A Werewolf open in the Abbey grounds.
Thirteen Things About Whitby
1. Bram Stoker wrote Dracula whilst staying in Whitby.
2. Dracula came ashore in Whitby when his ship The Dementer was driven ashore on Whitby’s east cliff. He took the form of a black dog
3. Captain Cook spent his youth in Whitby. He went on to map a large portion of Canada and New Zealand.
4. William Scorsby – the whaler who designed the Crow’s Nest – sailed from Whitby.
5. Whitby and Whaling were once synonymous. The giant arch atop the east cliff is made from the jawbone of a Bow Head Whale. Alaskan Intuits gave it to the town in respect of their whaling tradition.
6. In medieval times, the peasants believed St Hilda - the founding abbess of Whitby Abbey – beheaded all the local serpents and turned them to stone. This was the only way they could explain the abundance of fossilized ammonites around Whitby.
7. In the 7th century, Whitby Abbey hosted the church synod that decided the date of Easter.
8. Viking slavers regularly raided Whitby Abbey. They sold their captive monks in Dublin’s slave market.
9. Legend tells of a giant serpent sleeping in the cliff beneath the abbey. It’s pictured as a dragon, and called the Whitby Wyrm. He helped inspire me for the baby dragon, Lipstick, in my book, Curse of the Fae King.
10. 199 steps link the Whitby marketplace to Whitby Abbey. They have a resting place for pallbearers half way up.
11 The River Esk runs into Whitby Harbor, and flows on into the North Sea.
12. In 1909 a swing bridge was built across the River. It separates the upper and lower harbors and still operates today.
13. Whitby hosts two Goth festivals a year. Goths roam the streets in Victorian garb. It only adds to town’s charm.
Kryssie Fortune is a Yorkshire lass who is lucky enough to live within driving distance of Whitby - the home all things paranormal and strange. Her husband says she’s part cat - always curious. He's probably right, but Kryssie maintains that she’d rather be part dragon. She loves mythology and visiting ancient sites. That's where she gets lots of her ideas. Although she hasn't met any Yorkshire werewolves yet.
Kryssie has two grown up children of whom she is inordinately proud and a husband she still adores after thirty-eight years of marriage.
Whitby is one of my favorite towns. Both Curse of the Fae King and my new book To Mate A Werewolf open in the Abbey grounds.
Thirteen Things About Whitby
1. Bram Stoker wrote Dracula whilst staying in Whitby.
2. Dracula came ashore in Whitby when his ship The Dementer was driven ashore on Whitby’s east cliff. He took the form of a black dog
3. Captain Cook spent his youth in Whitby. He went on to map a large portion of Canada and New Zealand.
4. William Scorsby – the whaler who designed the Crow’s Nest – sailed from Whitby.
5. Whitby and Whaling were once synonymous. The giant arch atop the east cliff is made from the jawbone of a Bow Head Whale. Alaskan Intuits gave it to the town in respect of their whaling tradition.
6. In medieval times, the peasants believed St Hilda - the founding abbess of Whitby Abbey – beheaded all the local serpents and turned them to stone. This was the only way they could explain the abundance of fossilized ammonites around Whitby.
7. In the 7th century, Whitby Abbey hosted the church synod that decided the date of Easter.
8. Viking slavers regularly raided Whitby Abbey. They sold their captive monks in Dublin’s slave market.
9. Legend tells of a giant serpent sleeping in the cliff beneath the abbey. It’s pictured as a dragon, and called the Whitby Wyrm. He helped inspire me for the baby dragon, Lipstick, in my book, Curse of the Fae King.
10. 199 steps link the Whitby marketplace to Whitby Abbey. They have a resting place for pallbearers half way up.
11 The River Esk runs into Whitby Harbor, and flows on into the North Sea.
12. In 1909 a swing bridge was built across the River. It separates the upper and lower harbors and still operates today.
13. Whitby hosts two Goth festivals a year. Goths roam the streets in Victorian garb. It only adds to town’s charm.
To Mate A Werewolf
Erotic Paranormal Romance
The scars on Ellie’s cheek are a constant reminder of the times she tried to escape from sexual slavery. Two years ago, Joel Blackheart led the rescue party that freed her. She’s loved him ever since.
When their relationship finally explodes into steaming sex, he offers to pay her off. She walks away with her head high and her heart shattered. Then she discovers a plot to destroy him. Now she needs to warn him.
Joel has to fight to retain his pack. He’s horrified when Ellie turns up on the night of his engagement to a woman he’s never met. Finally, he realizes Ellie’s his true mate. He has to choose between his arranged marriage that strengthens the pack, and the woman he truly loves. Will he choose with his head or his heart?
To Mate a Werewolf is a stand alone story within the Scattered Siblings series.
Mar 24, 2015
#MFRWauthor BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Undone by @LiviaQuinn
Undone: A Sexy Romantic Adventure
Blood Opal Series, Book 1
Livia Quinn | Campbell Hill Publishing
Erotic Contemporary Romance
BUY LINK
Undone - The setting: New Orleans and Pernambuco, Brazil. One year ago, Antiquities dealer Elektra Charpentier lost the rarest opal she'd ever almost owned, and the only man she'd ever loved.
Now he's back.
Aussie gem hunter Cass McKay spent the last year searching for Elektra's Blood Opal and a way back into her life and her heart.
Now he has it. And he doesn't intend to lose her again, because without her, he's -- U n d o n e " Like a Rumba or Salsa...the beat of this story will get cha!
EXCERPT
""Hot, hot, hot! Did I mention, it's hot? Loved the scenes in Brazil...Strong characters. Tight, fast plot. Oh, and it's hot.""
""I loved this book!! Exciting, sexy and sit on the edge of your seat kind of book!!!""" "A low animal growl sounded from deep in his chest as he halted, still deep within her, his chest heaving in agonizing uneven breaths. In a single fluid motion, he levered himself off of her to sit on the edge of the bed.
Oh my God, what was happening to them? Agony clamped down on her heart. How could she make this right? Shoulders slumped; he held his shaking hands in front of his face as if he didn’t recognize them as his own. “I’m sorry,” He whispered raggedly.
“Cass—”
Cass held up an unsteady hand. He only had a few words left and he wanted to get them said. He wiped his hand over his face, disgusted. Looking down he saw the rose petals crushed and broken beneath his feet. Like his heart.
He’d done it again; he’d given up his self-respect to this woman who only wanted him for sex and a piece of glorified rock. And this time he’d forced himself on her in an act not entirely of love.
It was over.
He placed his fingers on her chin and waited until she returned his gaze. “When are you going to figure out that you became the successful, intelligent, creative woman you are, despite that sonofabitch of a father? You might flash the Blood in your father’s face, but you’ll only be disappointed if you think it will make him respect you.”
“No, I—”
He pulled his pants on, his shoulders hunched, shook his head. When he turned to her, she ached at the pain and defeat in his eyes.
“You’re terrified of relying on someone, on me— trusting me.”
She couldn’t speak because what he said was true. At least it had been— once.
He stroked her cheek, a slight tremor in his fingers then his hand dropped to his side, “You’re breaking my heart, sheila.”
He walked to the door, said quietly, “Whatever it takes, I’ll get your opal. Then maybe I can move on.”
“But—” he’d tuned her out.
“I won’t touch you again.” As if all his energy had been drained, he rested his forehead against the hard wood. “I have to try to move on.”
Then he was gone."
ABOUT Livia Quinn
Livia Quinn, a D.C. native living in Louisiana, began pursuing her dream of publication after a little known event called Katrina. With several interruptions in her career involving weather, it’s only natural that storms would be at the center of her stories. She is a business owner and professional singer; has been a salesperson, plant manager, computer trainer, and mail lady.
She's written eight books based in the communities around Storm Lake— an infamous, though fictional lake in Southern Louisiana, where stories range from paranormal on the west end to contemporary on the east.
Blood Opal Series, Book 1
Livia Quinn | Campbell Hill Publishing
Erotic Contemporary Romance
BUY LINK
Undone - The setting: New Orleans and Pernambuco, Brazil. One year ago, Antiquities dealer Elektra Charpentier lost the rarest opal she'd ever almost owned, and the only man she'd ever loved.
Now he's back.
Aussie gem hunter Cass McKay spent the last year searching for Elektra's Blood Opal and a way back into her life and her heart.
Now he has it. And he doesn't intend to lose her again, because without her, he's -- U n d o n e " Like a Rumba or Salsa...the beat of this story will get cha!
EXCERPT
""Hot, hot, hot! Did I mention, it's hot? Loved the scenes in Brazil...Strong characters. Tight, fast plot. Oh, and it's hot.""
""I loved this book!! Exciting, sexy and sit on the edge of your seat kind of book!!!""" "A low animal growl sounded from deep in his chest as he halted, still deep within her, his chest heaving in agonizing uneven breaths. In a single fluid motion, he levered himself off of her to sit on the edge of the bed.
Oh my God, what was happening to them? Agony clamped down on her heart. How could she make this right? Shoulders slumped; he held his shaking hands in front of his face as if he didn’t recognize them as his own. “I’m sorry,” He whispered raggedly.
“Cass—”
Cass held up an unsteady hand. He only had a few words left and he wanted to get them said. He wiped his hand over his face, disgusted. Looking down he saw the rose petals crushed and broken beneath his feet. Like his heart.
He’d done it again; he’d given up his self-respect to this woman who only wanted him for sex and a piece of glorified rock. And this time he’d forced himself on her in an act not entirely of love.
It was over.
He placed his fingers on her chin and waited until she returned his gaze. “When are you going to figure out that you became the successful, intelligent, creative woman you are, despite that sonofabitch of a father? You might flash the Blood in your father’s face, but you’ll only be disappointed if you think it will make him respect you.”
“No, I—”
He pulled his pants on, his shoulders hunched, shook his head. When he turned to her, she ached at the pain and defeat in his eyes.
“You’re terrified of relying on someone, on me— trusting me.”
She couldn’t speak because what he said was true. At least it had been— once.
He stroked her cheek, a slight tremor in his fingers then his hand dropped to his side, “You’re breaking my heart, sheila.”
He walked to the door, said quietly, “Whatever it takes, I’ll get your opal. Then maybe I can move on.”
“But—” he’d tuned her out.
“I won’t touch you again.” As if all his energy had been drained, he rested his forehead against the hard wood. “I have to try to move on.”
Then he was gone."
ABOUT Livia Quinn
Livia Quinn, a D.C. native living in Louisiana, began pursuing her dream of publication after a little known event called Katrina. With several interruptions in her career involving weather, it’s only natural that storms would be at the center of her stories. She is a business owner and professional singer; has been a salesperson, plant manager, computer trainer, and mail lady.
She's written eight books based in the communities around Storm Lake— an infamous, though fictional lake in Southern Louisiana, where stories range from paranormal on the west end to contemporary on the east.
http://liviaquinn.com | https://www.facebook.com/liviaquinnwrites http://www.twitter.com/liviaquinn | http://pinterest.com/liviaquinn
https://www.tsu.co/LiviaQuinn | plus.google.com/liviaquinn
Mar 23, 2015
BOOK SPOTLIGHT: At His Command @RuthKaufman #MFRWauthor
At His Command - Historical Romance Version
Erotic Historical Romance
Ruth Kaufman
AMAZON Buy Link
Could she defy her king for love?
England 1453: King Henry VI sends Sir Nicholas Gray to protect the recently widowed Lady Amice Winfield from undesirable suitors. Though Nicholas intrigues her, she yearns to run Castle Rising without a man’s control.
Nicholas has no interest in marriage, but can’t deny he’s attracted to Amice. He’s surprised to finally find in Castle Rising a place he feels at home. A kiss sparks desire neither can ignore, yet serving opposing factions seeking to govern England threatens to pull them apart.
At court, the king and queen reject Amice’s pleas and choose a new husband for her, a highly-ranked lord who’ll provide connections and coin for the king’s depleted coffers that Nicholas cannot. How can she follow the king’s command when she’s a scribe for his rival? How can she marry another man when she’s falling in love with Nicholas?
Norfolk, England — April 1453
Sir Nicholas Grey’s scout leaned forward in his saddle, holding up two fingers to let the others know two horses approached. Nicholas heard only the slight jangling of harnesses blended with wind rattling through the trees, but relied on his scout’s uncanny ability to hear what no one else could.
He and his eight men sat alert, deep enough in the forest to avoid being seen while maintaining a clear view of the road through leafless branches. Nine armed men could frighten travelers. ‘Twas best to let them pass.
Each man watched, each horse sinking deeper into chilling mire as a mud-covered, black palfrey plodded over the rise in the road, its long mane whipping in the frigid winds.
“No rider,” Martin, the scout, murmured.
“Look again,” Nicholas replied. At first he too had thought the horse was riderless. Now he could see a woman collapsed on the animal’s back. Her dark hair draped down its flank, mingling with the horse’s mane. The palfrey placed each step as if trying not to jostle its burden.
Another horse, this one a brown rouncey ridden by a thin, balding man, galloped after the palfrey. A look of triumph brightened the man’s face as he spotted the horse ahead of him. He bent forward, extending his hand. Fingers like talons grasped the woman’s tangled hair.
“Mine!” he cried.
Amice Winfield jerked awake. Agony forced her head back, allowing her to see the man who gripped her hair as though he’d perish if he let go.
Harry Winfield.
She screamed. Arrows of fear pierced her as she clawed at his fingers. Her horse bolted, leaving her dangling from Harry’s hand by a small clump of hair. The long strands held for a few seconds, then tore from her head.
Pain seared her scalp. She dropped into a puddle. Stunned by her fall and her stinging head, Amice could only stare at her tormentor while freezing water soaked her clothes. How she hated him. How she regretted her desperate flight from home. But what other choice did she have?
Harry gaped at the dark tresses hanging from his hand. He threw them to the ground as she struggled to rise. Panic gripped her as his hostile glare changed to a slow, confident smile.
“There’s nowhere to run. I’ll catch you if it’s the last thing I do,” he vowed. He leapt off his horse.
Amice tugged her sodden skirts, trying to haul them out of the puddle. Where was her mount? Too far away to reach without being caught, weighted down as she was. Sprays of water flew as she heaved her skirts over her arm. Heart racing, she ran for the trees. A branch snagged her. With a cry of frustration, she pulled the wet wool until it wrenched free.
Ignoring twigs tearing at her skin and icy mud that sucked away one of her shoes, she forged ahead. She gasped for air as she plunged into a tiny clearing, then came to an abrupt halt at the sight of a group of mounted men.
ABOUT Ruth Kaufman
Ruth Kaufman is a Chicago on-camera and voiceover talent and freelance writer, editor and speaker with a J.D. and a Master’s in Radio/TV.
Writing accolades include Romance Writers of America® 2011 Golden Heart® winner and RT Book Reviews’ national American Title II contest runner up. Her true, short story, ""The Scrinch"" is in the St. Martin's Press anthology The Spirit of Christmas, foreword by Debbie Macomber.
She’s appeared in indie features, short films, web series and national and local TV commercials, and has voiced hundreds of explainer videos, e-learning courses, commercials and assorted characters.
Learn more at www.ruthkaufman.com and www.ruthtalks.com.
Blog: http://rjkaufman.blogspot.com/
Twitter: http://twitter.com/RuthKaufman
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ruthtalks
Erotic Historical Romance
Ruth Kaufman
AMAZON Buy Link
Could she defy her king for love?
England 1453: King Henry VI sends Sir Nicholas Gray to protect the recently widowed Lady Amice Winfield from undesirable suitors. Though Nicholas intrigues her, she yearns to run Castle Rising without a man’s control.
Nicholas has no interest in marriage, but can’t deny he’s attracted to Amice. He’s surprised to finally find in Castle Rising a place he feels at home. A kiss sparks desire neither can ignore, yet serving opposing factions seeking to govern England threatens to pull them apart.
At court, the king and queen reject Amice’s pleas and choose a new husband for her, a highly-ranked lord who’ll provide connections and coin for the king’s depleted coffers that Nicholas cannot. How can she follow the king’s command when she’s a scribe for his rival? How can she marry another man when she’s falling in love with Nicholas?
A wonderful debut sure to please lovers of romance!Chapter 1 EXCERPT
—NYT & USA Today bestselling author Madeline Hunter
A wonderful debut sure to please lovers of romance!
—NYT & USA Today bestselling author Madeline Hunter
With a bold knight and a strong-willed lady, Kaufman's story is positively medieval.
—NYT & USA Today bestselling author Tracy Anne Warren
Norfolk, England — April 1453
Sir Nicholas Grey’s scout leaned forward in his saddle, holding up two fingers to let the others know two horses approached. Nicholas heard only the slight jangling of harnesses blended with wind rattling through the trees, but relied on his scout’s uncanny ability to hear what no one else could.
He and his eight men sat alert, deep enough in the forest to avoid being seen while maintaining a clear view of the road through leafless branches. Nine armed men could frighten travelers. ‘Twas best to let them pass.
Each man watched, each horse sinking deeper into chilling mire as a mud-covered, black palfrey plodded over the rise in the road, its long mane whipping in the frigid winds.
“No rider,” Martin, the scout, murmured.
“Look again,” Nicholas replied. At first he too had thought the horse was riderless. Now he could see a woman collapsed on the animal’s back. Her dark hair draped down its flank, mingling with the horse’s mane. The palfrey placed each step as if trying not to jostle its burden.
Another horse, this one a brown rouncey ridden by a thin, balding man, galloped after the palfrey. A look of triumph brightened the man’s face as he spotted the horse ahead of him. He bent forward, extending his hand. Fingers like talons grasped the woman’s tangled hair.
“Mine!” he cried.
Amice Winfield jerked awake. Agony forced her head back, allowing her to see the man who gripped her hair as though he’d perish if he let go.
Harry Winfield.
She screamed. Arrows of fear pierced her as she clawed at his fingers. Her horse bolted, leaving her dangling from Harry’s hand by a small clump of hair. The long strands held for a few seconds, then tore from her head.
Pain seared her scalp. She dropped into a puddle. Stunned by her fall and her stinging head, Amice could only stare at her tormentor while freezing water soaked her clothes. How she hated him. How she regretted her desperate flight from home. But what other choice did she have?
Harry gaped at the dark tresses hanging from his hand. He threw them to the ground as she struggled to rise. Panic gripped her as his hostile glare changed to a slow, confident smile.
“There’s nowhere to run. I’ll catch you if it’s the last thing I do,” he vowed. He leapt off his horse.
Amice tugged her sodden skirts, trying to haul them out of the puddle. Where was her mount? Too far away to reach without being caught, weighted down as she was. Sprays of water flew as she heaved her skirts over her arm. Heart racing, she ran for the trees. A branch snagged her. With a cry of frustration, she pulled the wet wool until it wrenched free.
Ignoring twigs tearing at her skin and icy mud that sucked away one of her shoes, she forged ahead. She gasped for air as she plunged into a tiny clearing, then came to an abrupt halt at the sight of a group of mounted men.
ABOUT Ruth Kaufman
Ruth Kaufman is a Chicago on-camera and voiceover talent and freelance writer, editor and speaker with a J.D. and a Master’s in Radio/TV.
Writing accolades include Romance Writers of America® 2011 Golden Heart® winner and RT Book Reviews’ national American Title II contest runner up. Her true, short story, ""The Scrinch"" is in the St. Martin's Press anthology The Spirit of Christmas, foreword by Debbie Macomber.
She’s appeared in indie features, short films, web series and national and local TV commercials, and has voiced hundreds of explainer videos, e-learning courses, commercials and assorted characters.
Learn more at www.ruthkaufman.com and www.ruthtalks.com.
Blog: http://rjkaufman.blogspot.com/
Twitter: http://twitter.com/RuthKaufman
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ruthtalks
Mar 22, 2015
#MFRWauthor Interview: Hers To Bear @TamaraHoffa @SecretCravings
Let's talk books with MFRW Author Tamara Hoffa.
Tamara is an author, an editor, and reviews/promotions coordinator for Secret Cravings Publishing. Tamara is proof positive that it’s never too late to reach for your dreams.
What genres do you like to read?
I've always read primarily romance, although i do love a good mystery too. But, I am a sucker for a happy ending and a true believer in life mates and finding that ""perfect"" person for you. Even is he or she isn't always so ""perfect."" I love writing about those stories.
Do you like humor in our fiction?
As for humor in fiction I love it! My favorite novels all contain humor to lighten the mood.Why? Several reasons, I guess. My DH has a wonderful sense of humor and always makes me smile. I think life is too short not to look at the laughter whenever we can. And last but not least, laughter lifts another's day.
I'l never thought of myself as a particularly ""funny"" person. I don't tell jokes, etc. But I do find humor in quirky characters and I see irony and puns all around me!
Do you drink coffee?
Probably too much! My coffee addiction seems to find its way into every book, and lots of other small personality quirks, (I'll never tell)
Tell us about the first book you submitted.
My first submission was kind of a fluke, I was beta reading for a few author friends and reviewing for a blog site and my friends kept saying ""you should write a book". I happened upon an ad for a short story contest and I thought, ""Okay, I'll try it."" The short is called Heart of a Soldier, It's a military romance. I didn't win the contest, but I did get a contact!
What genres do you write?
I have written military, cowboy and contemporary romance, my new release is paranormal romance and I am super excited about this new series. Paranormal romance is my favorite genre to read and I love this little community I have created in Honey Corners, West Virginia.
Tell us about your newest book.
I love the story of how Hers to Bear was born, I was at a release party event (sorry, I don't remember whose) and one of the authors asked the question ""If you were to write a paraormal romance, what kind of shifter would your hero/heroine be? and how would they meet?""
Now you know what happens when you give an author a prompt? That was all it took, for a week after I played the game at the contest, the characters yelled at me to write their story, and then their friends came along and now it's a 5 book series! LOL
Hers to Bear
Animal in Me series, Book 1
Erotic Paranormal Romance
Secret Cravings Publishing
Mating the Honey Corner’s alpha should mean hot sex and cleaning the den. Instead, Rogue wolves, kidnapping scientists, and raging sows with PMS are Hers to Bear!
EXCERPT
Bern had come into the store for his daily honey fix. He admitted it, he was addicted to the stuff. He had just bought two dozen biscuits at the bakery and he was going to drown them in honey, along with a nice piece of salmon for dinner.
When he stepped through the door he stopped in his tracks. His nostrils flared and his heart began to race. What was that fabulous scent? Like honey and vanilla, but something else too. Something that was making his cock stand up and do a happy dance in his pants.
Mate. Oh my God and goddess, his mate was in this store. He couldn’t think. Instinct took over and his legs carried him to the source of the tantalizing scent that had his libido raging and his bear roaring.
He was beside her before his brain had caught up with his body. He had to touch her. She was his. His hand covered hers as she reached for a jar of honey on the shelf. “Mine,” he growled. When she looked up at him with crystal blue eyes he thought he’d fallen into them and drowned.
Flawless porcelain skin covered a face that could have been painted by Botticelli. Pale blonde lashes framed her startled eyes and her cheeks were flushed an enticing pink. She bit her bottom lip and he wanted to kiss away the sting her torment caused the luscious flesh.
“There’s more than one jar,” she said, and her voice was husky and sweet.
He released her hand and skimmed his along the velvet softness of her cheek. She shivered.
“I am Bern, and you are mine,” he said.
She took a step back and a low growl escaped his throat. His bear didn’t like their mate backing away from them.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You are mine. You are my mate.”
Fear sparked in the woman. He could scent it, but along with the fear was a slight perfume of desire too. She looked around frantically and Bern could sense she was about to flee. He placed a hand on her arm.
“Do not run from me. Please.”
“I need to sit down.” She was shaking now.
Bern put his arm around her to steady her. His bear liked that. It wanted their scent to surround her. He started to lead her out of the store.
“Where are you taking me?” She hesitated.
“There is a bench outside where we can sit. It’s not far.”
She blinked up at him like an owl. “Okay.”
Tamara is an author, an editor, and reviews/promotions coordinator for Secret Cravings Publishing. Tamara is proof positive that it’s never too late to reach for your dreams.
I've always read primarily romance, although i do love a good mystery too. But, I am a sucker for a happy ending and a true believer in life mates and finding that ""perfect"" person for you. Even is he or she isn't always so ""perfect."" I love writing about those stories.
Do you like humor in our fiction?
As for humor in fiction I love it! My favorite novels all contain humor to lighten the mood.Why? Several reasons, I guess. My DH has a wonderful sense of humor and always makes me smile. I think life is too short not to look at the laughter whenever we can. And last but not least, laughter lifts another's day.
I'l never thought of myself as a particularly ""funny"" person. I don't tell jokes, etc. But I do find humor in quirky characters and I see irony and puns all around me!
Do you drink coffee?
Probably too much! My coffee addiction seems to find its way into every book, and lots of other small personality quirks, (I'll never tell)
Tell us about the first book you submitted.
My first submission was kind of a fluke, I was beta reading for a few author friends and reviewing for a blog site and my friends kept saying ""you should write a book". I happened upon an ad for a short story contest and I thought, ""Okay, I'll try it."" The short is called Heart of a Soldier, It's a military romance. I didn't win the contest, but I did get a contact!
What genres do you write?
I have written military, cowboy and contemporary romance, my new release is paranormal romance and I am super excited about this new series. Paranormal romance is my favorite genre to read and I love this little community I have created in Honey Corners, West Virginia.
Tell us about your newest book.
I love the story of how Hers to Bear was born, I was at a release party event (sorry, I don't remember whose) and one of the authors asked the question ""If you were to write a paraormal romance, what kind of shifter would your hero/heroine be? and how would they meet?""
Now you know what happens when you give an author a prompt? That was all it took, for a week after I played the game at the contest, the characters yelled at me to write their story, and then their friends came along and now it's a 5 book series! LOL
Hers to Bear
Animal in Me series, Book 1
Erotic Paranormal Romance
Secret Cravings Publishing
Jenna Raynes has been overlooked by men all her life. A big, beautiful, woman, she was always the friend, never the lover. At twenty-five she has never even been kissed. All that changes in a heartbeat with one word from an alpha bear… “Mine.”
Sippe Leiter, Bern Helms got more than he bargained for when he stepped into Andy’s market for a jar of honey. He found his mate! Now if he can only keep her.
HUNTS, Humans United Negation Team for Shifters is targeting children from all the shifter groups. When Bern’s mate gets caught in the backlash and kidnapped along with his niece, all bets are off. Nothing will keep a bear from his mate. The hunters are about to become the hunted…
An erotic paranormal romance, with laughter, suspense and a ten foot grizzly bear who will steal your heart (and your honey, better watch out!)
Mating the Honey Corner’s alpha should mean hot sex and cleaning the den. Instead, Rogue wolves, kidnapping scientists, and raging sows with PMS are Hers to Bear!
EXCERPT
Bern had come into the store for his daily honey fix. He admitted it, he was addicted to the stuff. He had just bought two dozen biscuits at the bakery and he was going to drown them in honey, along with a nice piece of salmon for dinner.
When he stepped through the door he stopped in his tracks. His nostrils flared and his heart began to race. What was that fabulous scent? Like honey and vanilla, but something else too. Something that was making his cock stand up and do a happy dance in his pants.
Mate. Oh my God and goddess, his mate was in this store. He couldn’t think. Instinct took over and his legs carried him to the source of the tantalizing scent that had his libido raging and his bear roaring.
He was beside her before his brain had caught up with his body. He had to touch her. She was his. His hand covered hers as she reached for a jar of honey on the shelf. “Mine,” he growled. When she looked up at him with crystal blue eyes he thought he’d fallen into them and drowned.
Flawless porcelain skin covered a face that could have been painted by Botticelli. Pale blonde lashes framed her startled eyes and her cheeks were flushed an enticing pink. She bit her bottom lip and he wanted to kiss away the sting her torment caused the luscious flesh.
“There’s more than one jar,” she said, and her voice was husky and sweet.
He released her hand and skimmed his along the velvet softness of her cheek. She shivered.
“I am Bern, and you are mine,” he said.
She took a step back and a low growl escaped his throat. His bear didn’t like their mate backing away from them.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You are mine. You are my mate.”
Fear sparked in the woman. He could scent it, but along with the fear was a slight perfume of desire too. She looked around frantically and Bern could sense she was about to flee. He placed a hand on her arm.
“Do not run from me. Please.”
“I need to sit down.” She was shaking now.
Bern put his arm around her to steady her. His bear liked that. It wanted their scent to surround her. He started to lead her out of the store.
“Where are you taking me?” She hesitated.
“There is a bench outside where we can sit. It’s not far.”
She blinked up at him like an owl. “Okay.”
Mar 20, 2015
BOOK SPOTLIGHT: AEquana's Quest @LindaMooney #MFRWauthor
AEquana's Quest (AEquana, Book 2)
Linda Mooney
Erotic Urban Fantasy
Music And Press
She was unique in every way, including the way she loved him.
It will take a long time before AEquana heals from the abuse and torture she endured growing up in those government labs. But Talon's love is helping her vanquish those demons and go forward with life.
Unfortunately, they stumble onto a multi-million dollar gem heist, and are targeted by those who think they're easy prey. Their enemies have no idea who they're up against when they try to take on the ex-Navy SEAL and his mermaid.
Warning! Contains a mountain-side pool, phone bashing, lubricating oil, vicious attacks, the absence of cuffs and chains, and a plea and a promise that will test the strength and depth of two people's love.
EXCERPT
Bright sunlight poured into the kitchen, where she could smell the remaining odors of breakfast. The incessant pounding came from outside. As she descended the stairs, she looked outside, past the double sliding doors, to where a beloved figure was working on the new deck.
Taking a slice of bacon from the plate warming in the oven, she slowly opened the door and stuck her head outside. Colorado in late summer was green and verdant, yet anxious for the arrival of autumn. The leaves on the trees behind their log home appeared ready to turn. Despite the crisp morning, the sun kept the chill at bay.
Talon had his back to her. He was shirtless, and his copper-colored skin was covered in a sheen of perspiration. His long black hair was gathered at the back of his head with one of her hair claws. A tool belt hung on his hips as he bent over the boards on his hands and knees. She took another bite of her bacon strip when he paused but didn't turn to look at her.
""Sorry if I woke you.""
""I'm not complaining,"" she replied. It used to creep her out, how he could detect her presence, even when she took great care not to make a sound. But once she got used to it, she often tried to make a game out of it. ""What was the tip-off?"" she inquired.
""The smell of bacon.""
She glanced at the remaining bite she held with her fingers. ""This little piece?""
""Coming from the kitchen,"" he corrected himself. He glanced over his shoulder to take in her appearance. ""How do you feel?""
""I feel good."" She smiled. ""Thanks for the flower.""
""You could use some more rest. At least enough to remove those dark circles under your eyes.""
She wrinkled her nose at him. ""I feel fine, Dr. Eagletalon."" Glancing over the half-finished deck, she breathed in the smell of freshly-cut and planed wood. ""If you're not careful, you might have this finished before winter sets in.""
""Give me another week and I will."" He eyed the sweatshirt that covered her to almost mid-thigh. ""It's a bit cool out here. If you're planning on staying a while, you might want to put on some pants.""
""I told you, I'm fine. Besides, I don't want to miss any of the show.""
""What show?"" He grinned at her, then returned to his hammering.
Æquana stepped onto the boards and slowly padded over to where he was kneeling. She ran her fingertips across his muscular shoulders, and delighted in the sight of gooseflesh rising in their wake. Leaning over, she slowly licked the warm skin. Talon paused.
""Maja.""
""Do you know how sexy you look right now? All sweaty and masculine,"" she purred.
He sat back on his heels and gave her a cautious stare. ""Maja, you need to rest. Why don't you go back into the house and eat your breakfast?""
""What makes you think I didn't already eat it?""
He raised an eyebrow at her. ""Did you?""
Æquana sighed. It was of no use to try and lie to him. The few times she had in the past, he'd seen right through her. ""Nope. Not yet.""
""Aren't you hungry?""
Yes, she was, but not for food. At least, not at that moment.
ABOUT Linda Mooney
Linda loves to write sensuously erotic romance with a fantasy, paranormal, or science fiction flair. Her technique is often described as being as visual as a motion picture or graphic novel.
She has numerous best sellers, including 10 consecutive #1s. In 2009, she was named Whiskey Creek Press Torrid's Author of the Year, and her book MY STRENGTH, MY POWER, MY LOVE was named the 2009 WCPT Book of the Year. In 2011, her book LORD OF THUNDER was named the Epic Ebook ""Eppie"" Award Winner for Best Erotic Sci-Fi Romance.
Linda Mooney
Erotic Urban Fantasy
Music And Press
She was unique in every way, including the way she loved him.
It will take a long time before AEquana heals from the abuse and torture she endured growing up in those government labs. But Talon's love is helping her vanquish those demons and go forward with life.
Unfortunately, they stumble onto a multi-million dollar gem heist, and are targeted by those who think they're easy prey. Their enemies have no idea who they're up against when they try to take on the ex-Navy SEAL and his mermaid.
Warning! Contains a mountain-side pool, phone bashing, lubricating oil, vicious attacks, the absence of cuffs and chains, and a plea and a promise that will test the strength and depth of two people's love.
EXCERPT
Bright sunlight poured into the kitchen, where she could smell the remaining odors of breakfast. The incessant pounding came from outside. As she descended the stairs, she looked outside, past the double sliding doors, to where a beloved figure was working on the new deck.
Taking a slice of bacon from the plate warming in the oven, she slowly opened the door and stuck her head outside. Colorado in late summer was green and verdant, yet anxious for the arrival of autumn. The leaves on the trees behind their log home appeared ready to turn. Despite the crisp morning, the sun kept the chill at bay.
Talon had his back to her. He was shirtless, and his copper-colored skin was covered in a sheen of perspiration. His long black hair was gathered at the back of his head with one of her hair claws. A tool belt hung on his hips as he bent over the boards on his hands and knees. She took another bite of her bacon strip when he paused but didn't turn to look at her.
""Sorry if I woke you.""
""I'm not complaining,"" she replied. It used to creep her out, how he could detect her presence, even when she took great care not to make a sound. But once she got used to it, she often tried to make a game out of it. ""What was the tip-off?"" she inquired.
""The smell of bacon.""
She glanced at the remaining bite she held with her fingers. ""This little piece?""
""Coming from the kitchen,"" he corrected himself. He glanced over his shoulder to take in her appearance. ""How do you feel?""
""I feel good."" She smiled. ""Thanks for the flower.""
""You could use some more rest. At least enough to remove those dark circles under your eyes.""
She wrinkled her nose at him. ""I feel fine, Dr. Eagletalon."" Glancing over the half-finished deck, she breathed in the smell of freshly-cut and planed wood. ""If you're not careful, you might have this finished before winter sets in.""
""Give me another week and I will."" He eyed the sweatshirt that covered her to almost mid-thigh. ""It's a bit cool out here. If you're planning on staying a while, you might want to put on some pants.""
""I told you, I'm fine. Besides, I don't want to miss any of the show.""
""What show?"" He grinned at her, then returned to his hammering.
Æquana stepped onto the boards and slowly padded over to where he was kneeling. She ran her fingertips across his muscular shoulders, and delighted in the sight of gooseflesh rising in their wake. Leaning over, she slowly licked the warm skin. Talon paused.
""Maja.""
""Do you know how sexy you look right now? All sweaty and masculine,"" she purred.
He sat back on his heels and gave her a cautious stare. ""Maja, you need to rest. Why don't you go back into the house and eat your breakfast?""
""What makes you think I didn't already eat it?""
He raised an eyebrow at her. ""Did you?""
Æquana sighed. It was of no use to try and lie to him. The few times she had in the past, he'd seen right through her. ""Nope. Not yet.""
""Aren't you hungry?""
Yes, she was, but not for food. At least, not at that moment.
ABOUT Linda Mooney
Linda loves to write sensuously erotic romance with a fantasy, paranormal, or science fiction flair. Her technique is often described as being as visual as a motion picture or graphic novel.
She has numerous best sellers, including 10 consecutive #1s. In 2009, she was named Whiskey Creek Press Torrid's Author of the Year, and her book MY STRENGTH, MY POWER, MY LOVE was named the 2009 WCPT Book of the Year. In 2011, her book LORD OF THUNDER was named the Epic Ebook ""Eppie"" Award Winner for Best Erotic Sci-Fi Romance.
Connect with Linda
Website: http://lindamooney.com | Blog: http://lindamooney.blogspot.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/lindamooney | Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/MusicAndPress
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/lindamooney
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/Linda_Mooney
Mar 19, 2015
#Thursday13 Favorite Foods @Akaria_Gale #MFRWauthor
Akaria Gale is a native New Yorker, slow cooker enthusiast, hard cider advocate who occasionally finds time to write about the secret world right underneath our noses.
Today, she shares her favorite foods and her newest book.
Angel's Awakening (Awakening #1)
Paranormal Romance
After a disgraceful two thousand year demotion, Charouth is a heartbeat away from regaining her status as one of Heaven's Elite angels. Her final mission: to retrieve five rare artifacts and prevent Satan's escape from Hell. A formidable task that becomes nearly impossible when Azazel, Satan’s top relic hunter and her ex-lover, joins the quest.
Bloody confrontations with the worst the Netherworld has to offer land her further away from redemption than ever, forced to choose between duty or desire. Two thousand years ago, their passion defied Heaven and Hell. Will love blossom again, or will ancient allegiances tear them apart forever?
EXCERPT
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9805223.Akaria_Gale
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http://www.akariagale.com/
Today, she shares her favorite foods and her newest book.
Thirteen Favorite Foods
Wasabi
Garlic
Homemade marinara sauce
Medium rare steak
Whiskey
Jerk Chicken
Mangoes
Salmon sashimi w/jalapeno peppers
Dumplings
Saag Paneer
Basil
Massaman curry
BBQ ribs
Paranormal Romance
After a disgraceful two thousand year demotion, Charouth is a heartbeat away from regaining her status as one of Heaven's Elite angels. Her final mission: to retrieve five rare artifacts and prevent Satan's escape from Hell. A formidable task that becomes nearly impossible when Azazel, Satan’s top relic hunter and her ex-lover, joins the quest.
Bloody confrontations with the worst the Netherworld has to offer land her further away from redemption than ever, forced to choose between duty or desire. Two thousand years ago, their passion defied Heaven and Hell. Will love blossom again, or will ancient allegiances tear them apart forever?
EXCERPT
In a blink, the bald Fallen rushed to strike. She brought her arm up to block. Damn that poisoned bite. Too slow again. With the flick of a wrist, he grabbed her by the neck and slammed her against the wall. She winced as her wings made contact. Chunks of concrete fell to the ground. His nails lengthened into deadly claws. Blood oozed from her flesh. He reeked of the Netherworld. Her eyes watered, vision dimmed, face flooding red in shame. Oh, the embarrassment of it all. Outmaneuvered by a Fallen. Incapable of protecting humans. Mauled by a friggin’ hellhound. Talk about demotion. She’d be lucky if they allowed her a Watcher position after this.CONNECT with Akaria
“I'm gonna love ripping your head off, sheanar.”
The air thrummed with tension and power. Less potent than what the Fallen, radiated but more recognizable, this was the energy she’d felt earlier.
“Release her."" A new voice entered this little get together. It was dark and ominous, yet strangely familiar.
The Fallen loosened his grip a bit and turned his head toward the tunnel. It was so quiet. No rats scurrying in dark corners. No dripping water. Not even the distant rumble of a train. Just eerie, disconcerting quiet.
“No worries, man. I just found us a little bitch to play with.”
“Let her go.” The newcomer cocked his weapon. It echoed loudly in the underground silence. “Now.”
“Oh, come on, man. She's a spunky one. We could have fun with her. Before we kill her.”
“Amazarek, let her go. This woman is mine.”
Charouth twisted her head toward the newcomer. Her jaw dropped. She saw a ghost.
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9805223.Akaria_Gale
http://www.pinterest.com/04zfvvgygotwfib/
https://twitter.com/akaria_gale
https://www.facebook.com/akariagale?ref=hl
http://www.akariagale.com/
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