BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Intimate Details @TinaDonahue #MFRWauthor

Intimate Details

Tina Donahue
Erotic Contemporary Romance
Siren-Bookstrand

As a computer hacker, she demands justice.
As a woman, she craves two powerful and commanding men.

Shana’s been hacking one of Manhattan’s most corrupt executives, making him pay for what he’s done to his victims. Using her skills, she convinces Mike and Cody to hire her at their intelligence-gathering firm, where intimate details help their clients.

Never has Mike met a woman as delicious as Shana. Smart as hell, curvy and assured, she’d be a delightful challenge in bed. Cody’s carnal hunger is equally intense. He and Mike want to know everything about her.

She won’t divulge the secrets of her past. All she can offer is unquenchable desire and her heart.

During weeks of shameless lust and pleasure, Mike and Cody peel away the layers of Shana’s life. The stunning truth changes everything. They’ll do all that they can to keep her safe…and in their arms.

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REVIEWS
"This story is wonderfully written. The sexual chemistry is hot and explicit with a lot of tenderness but the reader can't help but get caught up in Shana's quest to seek justice for the weaker, poorer and helpless folks that cross her path! - 5 STARS - Barb/Amazon

This book has a amazing story line! It is a you must read book!! Tina Donahue is such an amazing writer and her books are incredible. - 5 STARS - Rose13/Amazon

EXCERPT

Shana sucked her bottom lip.
Leaning closer to her, Mike murmured, “Is that a yes?”
Against her better judgment, Shana nodded faintly. She’d send them in the opposite direction of her place then hop on the subway and go home.
Her stomach growled again.
Straightening, Mike brought something up on his phone and handed the device to her. “That menu’s from an all-night deli not too far from here. Decide what you want and I’ll call the order in.”
Shana resisted the urge to sniff his phone to see if it smelled like him. On unsteady legs, she followed him and Cody out of the suite to the bank of gold elevators. Mottled black marble graced the floors and walls of the expansive hall. Art Deco chandeliers rained gentle light on them and the numerous plants. Cody stood to her left, Mike to her right.
She pretended to read the menu. The words swam in front of her. Mike and Cody’s proximity, size and heavenly scents overwhelmed.
The elevator dinged. Her heart jumped. She entered the roomy space, its walls and ceilings lined with gold-flecked mirrors.
Cody and Mike studied her reflection in the glass.
She did the same with them.
After pressing the button for the lobby, Mike inclined his head to the phone. “Anything look good?”
Shana had forgotten about the menu. The elevator’s display showed the floors ticking down. Each whooshing sound marked him and Cody getting closer to taking her where they thought she lived. Them trying to find out more about her that they shouldn’t. Perspiration ran down the back of Shana’s neck and between her breasts. She looked from Mike to Cody then back.
Mike smiled. “What?”
She moved into him without meaning to, her arms wreathed around his neck, her free hand pushing his head toward her. He smelled of coffee and need. Their lips touched. His silky and warm, his cheeks deliciously rough.
A surge of something Shana had never experienced rolled through her. Moaning at the intense pleasure, she brushed her mouth over his and slipped her tongue inside. Wet heat greeted her, tasting clean and fresh. Her knees sagged, bumping his.
Mike wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her close, his rigid cock snuggled against her cunt. He buried his fingers in her hair, holding her still so she couldn’t get away.
Shana had no thought of escape. She melted into him.
They kissed noisily, their movements too eager. Elbows and shoulders bumped the walls in their attempt to get closer, to touch as much of each other as they could, her hands roaming his ass, his fondling and squeezing her breasts. When they were both out of breath, Shana pulled her mouth free, stumbled away from him and moved into Cody’s arms.
He backed her against the wall, his body trapping hers as Mike’s had. Cody kissed Shana’s temple and cheek, then the side of her mouth before he got down to business.
She inhaled sharply at his tongue filling her, his hand on her breast, her tightened nipple pressed against his palm. He squeezed gently before getting a little rough, then paused as if to gauge her reaction.
With her hand on his tight ass, Shana pressed him closer, wanting more.
He fondled her for all he was worth and deepened their kiss, his stubble rasping her skin as Mike’s had. The slight irritation fueled Shana’s passion. They kissed until the elevator came to a gentle stop then dinged.

ABOUT Tina Donahue
Tina Donahue is an award-winning, bestselling novelist in erotic, paranormal, contemporary and historical romance for Samhain Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, Siren Publishing, and Kensington. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. Three of her erotic romances were named finalists in the EPIC competition, one of her titles was named Book of the Year, two received Awards of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition, and two more titles won second place in the NEC RWA contest. Tina is featured in the 2012 Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market.

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What's #MFRWauthor @LaurenLinwood 's Guilty Pleasure?

Meet MFRW Author Lauren Linwood.
Lauren Linwood became a teacher who wrote on the side to maintain her sanity in a sea of teenage hormones. Her romances use history as a backdrop to place her characters in extraordinary circumstances, where their intense desire and yearning for one another grow into the deep, tender, treasured gift of love.

Lauren, a native Texan, lives in a Dallas suburb with her family. An avid reader, moviegoer, and sports fan, she manages stress by alternating yoga with five mile walks. She is thinking about starting a support group for Pinterest and House Hunters addicts.

JUST THE WAY YOU ARE would best describe my life. I'm at an age where I'm comfortable with myself and like who I am and where I am on this journey in life.

My guilty pleasure is dark chocolate. My trick to not gobbling it down is to put the individually wrapped Dove chocolates in my freezer. I'll take one out to nibble on, and then I get the taste I crave by the time it's finished--and can stop at the one piece.

The funniest thing that ever happened was when I came in from a bonfire in college, flipped on my radio, and heard, ""Be the 10th caller for concert tickets."" I never ever won anything, so I dialed--and I got through! I was the winner! The only trouble was I hadn't heard the firsts part of the DJ's pitch. Since Halloween was the next day, I had to howl at the money. I tried talking myself out of it, but he wasn't having any of that, so I sucked it up and bellowed out a howl. For the next week as I crossed campus, I was stopped a zillion times by people who'd heard me on the radio. A little embarrassing, but pretty darn funny!

The scariest thing was losing my 2-year-old daughter at a water park. We were in the children's play area, going in and out of water tunnels, popping out and saying ""Boo!"" to each other. She went around a corner and then didn't jump back out at me. I frantically raced through the tunnels, came to the outside, and saw dozens of children--but not mine. She turned up a few minutes later, but I was scared to death that she'd been taken or she'd drown.

I would love to go on THE AMAZING RACE so I could travel to all the incredible, exotic places . . . for free!

Though I think zebras are adorable, there's just something steadfast and yet mystical about an elephant. They're playful but seem to be an old soul at the same time.

I wish an interviewer would ask how long I plan to keep writing. BTW - forever!

Lauren's latest book is A Bit of Heaven on Earth, a Mainstream Medieval Historical Romance, with Soul Mate Publishing.
When Gavin of Ashgrove is captured in battle, his father refuses to pay his son’s ransom, leaving him to rot in a French prison. Gavin escapes and returns to England, only to find he is proclaimed a bastard and disinherited. With nowhere to turn, he journeys to the estate of Lord Aldred, the famed warrior he fostered with as a boy. Gavin falls in love with Elizabeth, the old warrior’s much younger wife, as a dying Aldred plots Elizabeth’s future with King Edward. Gavin loses his good name, lands, possessions--and his heart--to  famed beauty Elizabeth of Kentwood. Will the king allow a penniless knight to marry a wealthy widow?

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EXCERPT

       Elizabeth watched as Gavin built a fire. She moved close to it, resting her hands against the stone as she leaned into the heat.
“You shake still.” He moved behind her and placed his hands upon her shoulders. His fingers held such heat. Indeed, his very closeness seemed a stronger fire than that in the grate before her. She leaned into him, absorbing the warmth that he possessed, even in his wet tunic.
Then his arms slid round her waist, drawing her closer. Her breath caught in her throat at his very nearness. His fingers locked, trapping her in the circle of his arms.
“Gavin?” she asked, afraid to move, afraid to break the magic spell. She’d longed to be right where she now stood. Her pounding heart betrayed her fear at their situation.
His response was wordless. He bent and kissed her ear, his breath sending shivers down her spine. His lips moved to her neck, scorching a path there, before they touched her cheek.
One arm held her tightly against him as his other palm moved to caress her breast. Elizabeth moaned. Her knees turned liquid. If Gavin had not held her, she would have puddled on the floor.
Suddenly, he spun her in his arms. She clung to him wildly. His hands splayed along her back. His mouth was everywhere, in her hair, on her eyelids, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her mouth.
His kisses overwhelmed her. She couldn’t breathe. And yet they continued, his mouth insistent on hers. Her lips parted, allowing his tongue entrance, and she welcomed it. He stroked her with it, a constant, dizzying motion that kept her head spinning. Her senses filled with him, his scent, his touch, his taste. Tears began to flow.
Gavin lifted his mouth. “Elizabeth?” he asked. “Have I hurt you?” He held her at arm’s length and studied her.
The concern in his eyes touched her very core. “No,” she whispered. “’Twas just so beautiful . . . I . . . had to cry.”
He smiled, a heartbreaking smile, and caught her up in his arms again. “No, my love, you are the beautiful one.” He kissed her gently, tenderly. The passion was still there, but it was more controlled now.
Gavin swept her up into his arms. Hers went round his neck and she kissed him for the first time, making her own bold move. His growl let her know he approved. He broke the kiss and looked around the room.
“I see no bed, my lady. The straw on the floor ‘twill have to suffice. But,” he said, his eyes glowing at her, “I guarantee you won’t notice the difference.”
He carried her to the corner of the room. As he placed her on the straw, she raised a hand to his chest. His heart beat as fast as hers did. Oh, God in Heaven, she wanted this man!
A voice from outside invaded her thoughts.
“Elizabeth? Gavin? Are you there?”

CONNECT with Lauren
Website: http://www.laurenlinwood.com
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Meet #MFRWauthor @AlisonMcMahan & The Saffron Crocus

Meet Alison McMahan.
Alison chased footage for her documentaries through jungles in Honduras and Cambodia, favelas in Brazil and racetracks in the U.S. She brings the same sense of adventure to her award-winning books of mystery and romantic adventure for teens and adults.

"My life experience is an indirect influence on my writing. I don't put people I know in my books. Instead I write about things that matter to me, and I let the characters tell me who they are. In this story, I originally didn't think the two main characters would fall in love. Instead, Isabella was going to love the wealthy merchant Domenico, who loves her the way he loves a good ship full of pricey merchandise. But Isabella and Rafaele had their own ideas, and fell in love. Who am I to argue with teenage hormones?

"Once I start writing a book I write from 5 am to 9 am. Then my husband gets up and we have breakfast and exercise and I go back to writing the rest of the day. Except lately I spend my afternoons marketing more than I do writing. I cannot write if my environment is noisy or if anyone interrupts me, which is why I write early in the morning. No one else is awake then. I do a lot of research for each book, but I try to save that for the afternoon. The morning is sacred writing time."

Alison McMahan's latest release is The Saffron Crocus, a Young Adult Historical Mystery, with Black Opal Books.

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Venice, 1643. Isabella, fifteen, longs to sing in Monteverdi’s Choir, but only boys (and castrati) can
do that. Her singing teacher, Margherita, introduces her to a new wonder: opera! Then Isabella finds Margherita murdered. Now people keep trying to kill Margherita’s handsome rogue of a son, Rafaele.

Was Margherita killed so someone could steal her saffron business? Or was it a disgruntled lover, as Margherita—unbeknownst to Isabella—was one of Venice’s wealthiest courtesans?
Or will Isabella and Rafaele find the answer deep in Margherita's past, buried in the Jewish Ghetto?

Isabella has to solve the mystery of the Saffron Crocus before Rafaele hangs for a murder he didn’t commit, though she fears the truth will drive her and the man she loves irrevocably apart.

Murder, Mystery & Mayhem in 17th Century Venice...  Amazon BUY LINK

REVIEW
I adored this beautifully written, passionate book. The Saffron Crocus is a glittering, thrilling opera of a novel that plucked my heartstrings and kept me reading at fever pitch. Brava, Alison McMahan! Encore! 
~ Nancy Holder, New York Times Bestselling Author of the Wicked Saga

WINNER: 2014 Rosemary Award for Best Historical for Young Adults

EXCERPT

Who knew a singing career would be this much trou-ble?
“Rafaele!” She flew into the garret. “Piero, it was so wonderful, wait until I tell you!”
The stool next to the bed was knocked over. The tray with the genepy bottle was on the floor, one of the cups broken. The fat candle that had been burning next to Ra-faele’s bed had been flung to the other side of the room. Canvases were strewn all over the floor, some of them slashed, and many of Master Strozzi’s jars of paint ele-ments were broken.
Did Piero and Rafaele have a fight? She quickly suppressed the thought. Who would get into a fight with a man who was already injured?
Something else must have happened.
She walked across the garret. “Piero? Rafaele, are you here?”
Rafaele was not in the bed. The sheets and blankets she had piled on top of him were strewn everywhere. Blood-stained sheets spilled over the edge of the pallet. There was a pile of clothes on the floor.
She walked around to get a closer look.
Not clothes. It was Piero. Face down, one arm stretched out before him, as if in supplication.
A puddle of blood under him.
Dead.

She loves hearing from readers. 
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