#MFRWauthor ERIKA KELLY Rocks Romance @ErikaKellyBooks

Meet MFRW Author Erika Kelly.
Award-winning author Erika Kelly has been spinning romantic tales all her life—she just didn’t know it. Raised on the classics, she didn’t discover romantic fiction until later in life. From that moment on, she’s been devouring the genre and has found her true voice as an author. Over three decades she’s written poems, screenplays, plays, short stories, and all kinds of women’s fiction novels. Married to the love of her life and raising four children, she’s lived in two countries and seven states, but give her pen and paper, a stack of good books, and a steaming mug of vanilla chai latte and she can make her home anywhere.

http://erikakellybooks.com/  |  https://www.facebook.com/erikakellybooks

Why did you decide to write romance novels?
As far back as I can remember, I put myself to sleep at night telling romantic stories. I was one of those unusual kids who couldn't wait to go to bed--just so I could get back to where I'd left off. I didn't have a mom or grandma who read romance, so I didn't know it was actually a thing. It wasn't until my mid-30s when an editor wrote on my manuscript, Does this author know she writes romance? that I discovered those stories in my head made up an entire section of the book store!

What genre do you write?
I write contemporary romance. Which means in every book I write I get to relive that heart-pounding rush of meeting The One.  Honestly, there's nothing like that build up to the first kiss, the first time they make love after fighting their intense attraction for so long. I love writing about passion.

When did you first think about writing and what prompted you to submit your first manuscript?
After college, a friend and I would take long hikes on the weekends. We'd see weird things along the way and make up stories about them. One day she said, You should write a book. Something deep inside me clicked. It would take me years to connect the stories I told myself at night to the words I put down on the page, but that friend set me on the path. To be honest, I really only submitted that first book because I got sick of people referring to my writing as a hobby. It felt so dismissive for something that required such intense work.

What is your writing routine once you start a book?
I start imagining the next story at the tail end of the book I'm working on at the moment. Scenes start playing in my head, and I write them all down so I don't forget them. Only when I've finished the current book do I start on the next. I don't plot or outline, but I do work out my character arcs and plot points. I won't start a book until I have a clear map and some strong feelings for the chemistry between my characters. Then, I write a very messy, ugly draft--forcing myself to keep going forward. I write every day, and my most productive time is first thing in the morning. Well, after breakfast and a clean kitchen!

What about your family? Do they know not to bother you when you're writing?
I seriously can't work when people are in the house. No matter what, someone will call for me. To me, family is more important than anything, so when my husband asks if I want to get a coffee with him or my daughter wants to know what's for dinner, I'll stop what I'm doing. I know I can't get that time back with them, and I never want to look back and regret not being with them when I had the chance. So, I write when they're at work, at school, or otherwise engaged.

What do you do to relax and recharge your batteries?
I read. Sometimes the business side of writing overwhelms me. Or sometimes my brain can't function anymore--writing is hard! But I know I can pick up a book, get lost for a good amount of time, and then come back with renewed energy.

Tell us about your latest book:
I'm having a lot of fun with a New Adult series about the 3 O'Donnell siblings.

Nicole’s story, Mine for Now (formerly called Too Good to Be True) won the 2014 Golden Heart for Contemporary Romance. It’s about moving away from home for the first time and reinventing yourself. Between an alcoholic mom and a troubled boyfriend, Nicole wants a drama-free freshman year. So, out of all the guys on campus to fall for, of course she chooses the one whose mom took a housemate’s car on a joyride. Mine for The Week is about the oldest son, Golden Boy Ryan, a senior in college, and that scary time just before you push off into the unknown. Two months from signing with a major league team, Ryan heads to a resort for a much-needed break but finds the wildly sexy Sophie Valentine instead. Worst timing ever to meet the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Mine Forever is about the hard-partying middle son, Brandon, whose community service project is manning the camera of a student’s documentary. The topic? An expose on the hookup culture of this generation. The student? Just happens to be the woman whose virginity Brandon took while drunk at a frat party.

You Really Got Me

Book One, Rock Star Romance Series

Erotic Contemporary Romance

Berkley

From award-winning author Erika Kelly comes the first in a hot new series about a rock star on his way up—and the woman he wants to take all the way…

Emmie Valencia has what it takes to be the music industry’s hottest band manager. She just needs to prove it. Determined to discover a killer new band, Emmie is ready to make her move. First stop: Austin, Texas.

As a sizzling hot lead singer, Slater Vaughn has no trouble raising heart rates—but his band’s been flat-lining for years. When Emmie, his bandmate’s sister, crashes with them in exchange for some free management, her industry know-how lands them a spot in the biggest music festival in Texas. But it isn’t just her business acumen that catches Slater’s attention. Emmie is sexy and warm, and—for the first time in his life—he wants more.

But as irresistible as Slater is, Emmie is done with musicians. In her experience, a man can’t be a rock star and someone to trust with your heart—but Slater is determined to show her he’s both." Deliciously sexy romance between a band manager who's been burned one too many times by selfish musicians and a groupie-bait rock star who's so much more than he seems.

AMAZON BUY LINK

"Lovable characters and pulse-pounding chemistry make this one of my favorite reads of the year!"
--NYT and USA Today Bestselling Author Laura Kaye

EXCERPT

Slater drew her up hard against him, held her to his damp chest. For a long moment he looked into her eyes. Her blood heated from the look she saw there. She couldn’t believe he was looking at her like that.
With her hands pressed to his chest, she could feel the moment the tension left his muscles.
He tipped his forehead to hers. “Enough, all right?”
What did that mean? The moment was so strange and confusing, she didn’t say anything. A tremor shuddered through her. Her heart pounded. She should probably walk way, let him go back to his flock of girls, but she really needed him to hold her. She wasn’t ready for him to let go.
They stood in the middle of the dance floor, holding each other, and she wanted to sink into him. It felt so good. Yes, it felt exciting to be in his arms, to not have him resisting or taunting or teasing, but it also felt so…peaceful. So right.
She didn’t want him to get all weirded out, so she started to pull away. But the moment she relaxed her hold on him, he tightened his. “Dance with me.”
Emmie looked up, overwhelmed by the emotion pouring off him. For her. He wanted to be with her. Without thinking, she let her head fall to his chest and just…surrendered.
He reached for her hands, brought them to his chest and held them there tightly. She could feel his heart pounding, feel the heat pouring off him.  His feet shuffled closer to her, his chin lowered to her shoulder, his nose nuzzling into her neck. She thought he’d possibly inhaled.
Sensation bloomed on her skin.They barely moved, just held each other, as though slow dancing at the prom. The frenetic beat of the music, the flashing strobe lights, the thrashing bodies all around them made no sense against the slow roar of blood in her veins, the thick swirl of desire churning deep inside of her.
She let out a sigh of relief, pulling her hands out of his grip and wrapping them around his neck. Slowly, she moved closer to him, their hips connecting, bound like magnets, moving together in a slow, gentle sway. His arms came around her, pulling tighter, until their dance turned more into an embrace. Was this happening? This sweet, intimate moment with him? He was allowing himself to get close to her? His gentleness stole the breath from her lungs.
When his hands flattened on her back, when his hips surged into her, when she felt the shock of his hardness against her stomach, she pulled away from him. What…what was that?
She fled into the crowd, not even knowing if he followed. Why had he done that? That deliberate gesture, announcing his interest in wanting to have sex with her? After sharing an intimate moment, he’d turned to sex. No, no, it hadn’t been intimacy at all. It had been the precursor to sex.
Because that was all he knew. God, she was so stupid. Thinking he wanted something different from her. That somehow she was special. She pushed her way off the dance floor.
God, she was only human. She couldn’t take much more of this…this teasing from him.
He shouldn’t treat her like all the other girls he could screw and discard, pressing his boner into her like it was hers for the taking.
She hurried into the bathroom, locked herself in a stall and just stood there, unable to catch her breath, calm down her jittery nerves.
Hers for the taking. He had been. He’d made that perfectly clear. She closed her eyes, the feel of his erection igniting a flash flood of desire.
She wanted him between her legs, pushing inside of her. She’d never wanted a man so desperately before. Had never felt it between her legs, the throbbing, the pulsing, the need.
She’d never felt things like this. And she loved it. She did. It didn’t make her feel slutty or depraved or anything. It made her feel sexy.
She loved the way it made her feel.
She loved the way Slater made her feel. But not for one night. God, no. That just wasn’t her at all.

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Knot Intended @KarennaColcroft #MFRWauthor

Knot Intended

Karenna Colcroft

Erotic Contemporary Romance

Loose Id

Nolie and Joseph have a good marriage. They're still in love, have everything they need, and their careers are in good shape. But lately their sex life and time together has taken a back seat. One morning, Joseph brings up the changes in their sex life and expresses a desire to spice things up. With his encouragement, Nolie confesses her darkest fantasy: Being kidnapped, bound, and ""forced"" to have sex with her ""captor.""

She assumes Joseph will forget the fantasy or decide it's better off left as something to talk about, but a week later, Joseph brings Nolie's fantasy into reality. Nolie is not only excited about the role play, but Joseph's willingness to fulfill her fantasy reminds her of how much they love each other and how much priority they need to put on their marriage.

Nolie and Joseph's marriage has taken a back seat to their careers. How far will they go to bring back the fire?

BUY LINK

EXCERPT

Joseph nudged and tugged her down the short path between the deck and the gap in the fence. He pushed her ahead of him through the gap to the driveway, then dragged her to
the passenger side of a blue car.
Her car. He was kidnapping her in her own car.
He opened the door and shoved her inside. “I’m going to have to buckle you up, bitch, since you can’t do it yourself. I wouldn’t want you to die before I have a piece of your ass.”
“You could untie my hands,” Nolie said.
“Not a chance.” Roughly, he pulled the seatbelt across her, leaning heavily on her, and she heard the buckle snap into place.
“There,"" he said. ""Now shut up.”
He slammed her door. A few seconds later, cool air brushed against her when he opened the driver’s side door. He shut that door as forcefully as he had Nolie’s and started the car.
She tried to calm herself as he backed down the driveway. Knowing for certain that Joseph was the man in the mask only helped a little. He was being rough and aggressive, exactly as she’d fantasized, and she had no idea what he might do next.
Although she was excited as hell, part of her wanted to call a halt to the game. She hated being so off guard and not knowing what might happen.
No. I’m not stopping. I wanted this. Joseph’s trying to make things better between us. She had nothing to fear. Joseph would stop whenever she spoke the phrase he’d told her, assuming he remembered it when he heard it. But even if he didn’t remember that phrase, she believed she could persuade him to stop if the game became too much.
The car’s tires squealed as Joseph pulled away from the house. Surely that would attract a neighbor’s attention. Nolie had to hope that if anyone looked out a window, the heavy rain would obscure their view of anything other than her car. As long as they didn’t notice Joseph with his face obscured or Nolie blindfolded, any neighbor would see nothing unusual about her car leaving the house at this time of evening, despite the noise.
Nolie settled back as best she could and closed her eyes, which made little difference. Without sight, she didn’t have enough sense of direction to form any concept of where Joseph was going. Not that she needed to know. She trusted him, despite the circumstances.
Eventually, the car stopped. Without a word, Joseph got out and again slammed the door hard enough to rock the vehicle. Over the sound of rain against the roof of the car and distant rumbles of thunder, Nolie could hear nothing else. She waited for Joseph to come to her door, but several minutes passed without the door opening.
Where did he go? He couldn’t just leave her there. People might see her blindfolded and bound in her car. They might not realize it was a game. Joseph wouldn’t risk someone calling the police. He had to take her out of the car soon.
She shivered. Before, the game had been exciting. Arousing. But now she felt completely vulnerable. She couldn’t exit the car on her own because her hands were secured. She couldn’t remove the blindfold to figure out where they were. Alone in the car, she would be unable to defend herself if Joseph walked away and someone else came along. Tied and blindfolded, she would be a perfect target for a predator.
For all she knew, people might already be watching her.

ABOUT Karenna Colcroft
Karenna is the alter ego of a shy, sedate wife and mother. In 2006, she started writing erotic romance on a challenge from a friend, and hasn't stopped since. Karenna firmly believes that love is love, and everyone deserves to find it, and she tries to show this in her books. She lives in the northeastern United States with her two daughters, her real-life romance hero husband, and three cats.

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BOOK SPOTLIGHT: The Pleasure Hound by #MFRWauthor Ines Johnson @InesWrites

The Pleasure Hound: Part One

Ines Johnson

Erotic Romance (Menage, Dystopia, GLBT)

Heartspell Media, LLC

A young monk is given the chance to redeem himself from scandal when he is called upon to train a young woman and her two bonded mates in the orgasmic arts. But what starts as a simple ritual soon turns carnal when the monk’s heart begins to yearn for the woman, and hers for his.

AMAZON LINK

EXCERPT

“I promise that the choice of mates will be yours,” Dain continued. “And I hope…” He

paused and looked down at their joined hands.
He looked so uncertain. Chanyn had the impression of Dain as a child asking for permission to have something he didn’t think he deserved, but desperate for it anyway.
“I hope,” he began again, “that you will consider myself and Khial for a-”
“Yes!”
Dain startled at her response, then he smiled. “Good. I had hoped…” But he didn’t finish. He nodded again and then squeezed their hands together. “This is good.”
Chanyn’s heart thudded in her exposed chest, she was sure Dain could see it. He gazed into her eyes. Was this it? Was her first kiss going to happen now? Dain rubbed his thumb back and forth over her hand. His eyes dipped to her lips. Chanyn parted them in invitation. Dain brought his eyes back up to her face. His eyes widening more as he looked at the desire clearly written on Chanyn’s face.
Dain disentangled their fingers and patted her knee. “This is really good news,” he repeated and then rose. “I’ll make the arrangements today.” He walked over to the large desk that took up most of the room.
“Arrangements? For the marriage?”
He glanced up. “Oh no, no. Arrangements for your training.”
“Training?”
“Of course. With a Pleasure Hound.”
Chanyn looked on, dumbfounded. He talked of marriage and then was about to get her some kind of dog to train. “A dog would be lovely, I suppose.”
Dain laughed. “A Pleasure Hound is a man trained in the art of pleasing a woman.” He said it as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Chanyn shook her head. “I still don’t understand. Why would I need another man to…” To what exactly? Have sex with her?
Dain could see the realization dawning on her face. He came back around from the desk and sat next to her once more. He reached for her hand, but thought better of it.
“Chanyn,” he began. His face now sheepish. “I’ve never…been with a woman before. I wouldn’t know the first thing to do to please you.”
“But shouldn’t we, you know, figure that out together?”
Dain looked scandalized. He reeled back from her. “I would likely hurt you. A Pleasure Hound is trained to find out what pleases individual women. Then they teach the woman’s bonded mates those particular techniques. Its an ancient tradition going back over a hundred years.”
Chanyn still looked dubious.
“In our culture women rule the household. When we are bonded everything that I have will essentially be yours.”
Chanyn knew that in the twentieth century women fought for and earned a place in the government and the right to own many forms of business. But she hadn’t a clue that the roles of men and women she read about in the past thousand years had shifted so completely on its axis.

ABOUT Ines Johnson
Ines writes books for strong women who suck at love. If you rocked out to the twisted triangle of Jem, Jericha, and Rio as a girl; if you were slayed by vampires with souls alongside Buffy; if you need your scandalous fix from Olivia Pope each week, then you’ll love her books!

Aside from being a writer, professional reader, and teacher, Ines is a very bad Buddhist. She sits in sangha each week, and while others are meditating and getting their zen on, she’s contemplating how to use the teachings to strengthen her plots and character motivations.

Ines lives outside Washington, DC with her two little sidekicks who are growing up way too fast.

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BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Ancient Curse by #MFRWauthor Barbara Edwards @Barb_Ed

Ancient Curse

Finding Rhodes End Series, Book Three

Barbara Edwards

Paranormal Romance

The Wild Rose Press

Evil never dies.  And this time it wants Rainie Gamble.  More than her life, it wants her soul.

The artifacts she handles come from every era and she can read their past with a touch.  After her Father’s deceit, she’d lost her beloved career until Thomas hired her to inventory his new estate. She is acutely aware these items ooze evil. Her attraction to Thomas grows despite her resolve to never trust again.

Thomas Broquette needed Rainie for more than her psychic ability. She could bring her father into his reach and Thomas needed him to return the stolen paintings in Mason’s estate. He needs Rainie’s help to destroy the evil things Mason left behind. Then he realizes he needs her for much, much more.

She needs to trust him despite his lie. Their love is her only hope of survival.

Amazon BUY LINK

Excerpt

Changing took a few minutes. She pressed her hand to her throbbing forehead and  studied her reflection in the mirror. Pain lined her forehead. She wondered why Thomas’ touch eased it. Her tangled hair had escaped her twist and needed combing. Humming, she took the time to neaten it.
Silence enveloped the second floor. With the power off, the soft music she played in her bedroom had been silenced. She half expected her footsteps to echo when she exited the room and walked down the hall.
Thomas had probably finished mopping up, and she needed to lock her computer and file her notes  before the back-up battery failed.
Her pulse beat faster. She looked forward to spending some time with him. Hopefully, he was still in the library. She shook her head. She paused as the hair on her nape stirred like she was being watched.
A cool draft washed over her nape and she glanced back along the hall. All the doors had been closed. They still were. She frowned, and then shook the feeling off.  No-one watched although her skin itched.
Pausing to enjoy the light emotions held by the smooth banister, she stroked the wood.
A violent shove between her shoulders tumbled her down the stairs like a thrown doll. 

About Barbara Edwards
I’m Barbara Edwards and a native New Englander. I’m a graduate of the University of Hartford with a master’s degree in Public Administration. I write poetry for myself and novels when I need to tell a longer tale. My dark paranormal stories evolve from nightmares. The romance comes from my belief in people’s basic goodness and longing for love.

My husband is a retired police sergeant. We share an interest in Civil War re-enacting and travel the Eastern states to participate in events. I love visiting museums, galleries, and battle sites, gathering information for my stories.

I’m fond of gardening and grow antique roses with limited success. Most of my exercise is when my Belgian shepherd, Dixie, demands a walk.

I can be reached at...
Author Website: http://barbaraedwards.net
Blog Site: http://barbaraedwardscomments.wordpress.com
Facebook: http://facebook.com/BarbaraEdwards
Twitter: http://twitter.com/barb_ed
Authors Den: http://authorsden.com/barbaraedwards
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/barbaraedwards

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Highlander's Improper Wife @TarahScott #MFRWauthor

The Highlander's Improper Wife

Tarah Scott

Erotic Historical Romance

BUY LINK

A proper young lady should never attend a Masque...Aphrodite is no lady.

Betrothal to the callous Lord Blackhall painted a future devoid of love. Upon his death, Lady Caroline Wilmont is promised to the younger brother. Caroline refuses to allow her first taste of desire to be at the hands of a man who would rather have any woman but her. This, her last night of freedom, is to be a memory of lust that she can take with her throughout her loveless marriage. As Aphrodite, Caroline attends a masque determined to find a man to initiate her into the intimacies of erotic love.

Taran Robertson, Viscount of Blackhall, makes no secret that he despises his obligation to marry the Sassenach heiress chosen for him by his father. As a last foray before his wedding, he attends a masque. However, the spirited vixen he meets and seduces has secrets...secrets that just may reveal he’s to have an improper wife.

A marriage of convenience built on lies and seduction...

EXCERPT

“By God,” Caroline cursed ten minutes later.
Lord Forbes had not been boasting when he’d said his garden maze was unmatched in all of northern England. She blew out a frustrated breath. Of all the nights to become lost in one of the damned labyrinths. She turned down another bend and a white stone statue became visible ahead on the left. Caroline groaned. Already, she’d seen half a dozen replicas of Greek and Roman goddesses. This statue, she realized upon approach, was a large cherubim. The half-moon peeked through a hole in the veil of clouds, illuminating an alcove just ahead.
“Thank God.”
Caroline hurried forward. As expected, a stone bench lay nestled between the bushes. She hiked up her skirt and stepped onto the bench. Wind rustled across the hedge tops, setting her nerves more on edge. She scanned the acres of perfectly manicured shrubs that cut and curved in all directions.
“Bloody hell,” she cursed.
In the distance, the rear of the maze gave way to trees that stretched heavenward, but she stood no chance of navigating through the twists and turns that led to them. She faced the mansion and studied the path leading back in that direction.
“Left, right, second right, third—no—second left,” she said, while reciting a silent vow never to have a stupid maze on any of her properties.
Caroline turned to jump from the bench and shrieked. A masked, kilted god stood nearly eye-to-eye with her. She stumbled back. He seized her waist and yanked her forward. She instinctively threw her arms around his neck to keep from falling and her cheek met the warm, damp flesh of his shoulder. Her heart raced at a gallop.
“Careful, my lady.” The deep, cultured English accent didn’t quite disguise the hint of Scottish burr.
Gooseflesh chilled her arms. Yet, her body warmed. Her nipples hardened to erect peaks against the thin fabric of her costume.
“My lady,” he prodded.
Fear that he would feel the heat of her arousal immobilized her.
“I can stand here all night, if it pleases you,” he murmured.
The erotic vision of him doing just that while she rubbed her nipples against his hard body snapped her head up. Dark eyes indistinguishable from the shadow stared at her through a black eye mask.
A flurry of butterflies swirled in her tummy. “I am lost.” She cursed the breathless note in her voice.
“Nay, I found you.” He shifted. A dusting of hair at the nape of his neck tickled her fingertips. He slowly slid her body against his as he lowered her to the ground.
The scent of leather and cloves clung to him. She inhaled, heart fluttering, then tilted her head up. “You have my gratitude, sir. I would be even more grateful if you could direct me out of this…this…labyrinth.”
“Even more grateful?” he repeated.

ABOUT Tarah Scott
Award winning published author Tarah Scott cut her teeth on authors such as, Georgette Heyer, Zane Grey, and Amanda Quick. She writes classical romance, suspense, horror, and mainstream. Tarah grew up in Texas, and currently resides in Westchester County, New York with her daughter.
www.tarahscott.com | https://www.facebook.com/groups/TarahScott/
http://www.pinterest.com/tscottauthor/  |  https://twitter.com/tarahscott

#MFRWauthor BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Rock My Senses by Lisa Carlisle @LisaCBooks

Rock My Senses

by Lisa Carlisle

Erotic Paranormal Romance

Ellora's Cave

Computer geek by day, by night Mike Harvey becomes outlandish guitarist Chee Keydood for rock band Velvet Cocks. Spotting two women kissing in a club, he thinks he’s in luck.

Allana Miles isn’t sure what came over her, but she sure as hell recognizes Chee and can’t believe he doesn’t remember her from their one-night stand. But she has no time to think about him—she’s too busy opening her own yoga studio to get involved in a relationship.

When they meet again at a New Year’s party, their attraction reignites, too hot to ignore. But they’ve got issues to overcome. Allana catches glimpses of the man behind the façade, but doesn’t think they can fit into each other’s lives even though the sex is great. Mike has always known he’s a bit different, but is shocked to discover his real nature. Will he be able to protect Allana from danger and convince her to take a chance on him?" Computer geek by day, by night Mike Harvey becomes outlandish guitarist Chee Keydood for rock band Velvet Cocks. While trying to win over yoga instructor Allana Miles, he discovers a new side to himself, which explains how he's always been different.

Amazon BUY LINK  |  Barnes & Noble BUY LINK

Excerpt

"What the hell was that about in there? You’ve got blood dripping down your neck.”
She dabbed at her neck and stared at her fingers, now stained dark red. “What the—” A snowflake went straight for her finger and we both watched mesmerized as stark white met velvet red and was swallowed by it.
A few snowflakes fell onto her cheeks and her tiny nose and I felt an urge to brush them away, but they melted once they met the warmth of her flushed skin. She had delicate features and pretty blue eyes. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place how I knew her. Her blonde hair  lay tousled on her shoulders, set off by the black of a dress that clung to her tight little body. My cock had settled down after the freaky incident inside, but twitched back to life again.
“Are you two into some weird-ass drugs and vampire role-play or something?” I asked.
My question distracted her from her blood-covered fingers. She still appeared dazed, but wobbled less. The fresh air and sight of blood must have jolted her back to reality. She reached into her purse and pulled out tissues to blot the blood.
“I’m not judging,” I clarified, in case I embarrassed her. “We all have our things.” When she didn’t answer me, I asked, “Where do you live?”
She focused on me with a dead-eyed stare. “Figures you don’t remember.”

About Lisa Carlisle
Lisa loves stories with dark, brooding heroes and independent, caring heroines. She feels very honored to be a multi-published author since she's wanted to write since the sixth grade. Her travels have provided her with inspiration for various settings in her novels, including deployments while she served in the Marines. She lived in Parris Island, the California desert, and Okinawa, Japan. She also backpacked alone through Europe, and lived in Paris, France, as an au pair before returning to the U.S. and buying a book store. She now lives in New England with her husband, two children, a cat, and many fish.

http://lisacarlislebooks.com
https://www.facebook.com/lisacarlisleauthor
https://twitter.com/LisaCBooks
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6463824.Lisa_Carlisle
http://amazon.com/author/lisacarlisle
http://pinterest.com/lcbooks/

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BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Lost In A Kiss by #MFRWauthor Sydney Jane Baily @LoveHistoricals

Love Historicals presents...

Lost in a Kiss

by Sydney Jane Baily

Mainstream Historical Romance

Be transported back in time and all over the world, from the middle ages of Europe to the Scottish highlands to 19th-century America. Knights, Native Americans, riverboat gamblers, and lords vie for the hearts of ladies, damsels, and even brothel madams. This rich collection contains all new historical romance stories by critically acclaimed and award-winning romance authors. Get Lost in a Kiss today! Be transported back in time and all over the world, from the middle ages of Europe to the Scottish highlands to 19th-century America. Love Historicals presents Lost in a Kiss, a rich collection of all new historical romance stories by critically acclaimed and award-winning romance authors.

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What Reviewers Are Saying...

"I received an advanced copy of the 8 Amazing stories and I'm glad I did!!! It's the first time I read most of these authors and I was pleasantly surprised! Fast paced, heart warming, and full of action and romance!! I would greatly recommend this collection!! Happy readings!!!"
By Florencia Fontanon October 20, 2014
Format: Kindle Edition

"As a fan of Nancy Morse's historical novels, I loved 'Where the Wild Wind Blows', her standout romance set in the Great Plains, that followed Katie and Black Moon's struggle to find love and a place to belong. If you think Katie and Black Moon lived happily ever after, then think again. Morse revisits these two compelling characters in her new novella, 'Winter Wind'. Katie and Black Moon face new challenges, against the backdrop of history and human tragedy, in a can't put down, touching story. And Morse's association with the other fine Love Historicals authors means readers are in for a variety of delicious treats. 'Lost in A Kiss' will be sure to please all of the romantics on your holiday shopping list."
By Paula Ron October 25, 2014
Format: Kindle Edition

Excerpt
from An Impassioned Redemption by Sydney Jane Baily, first novella in Love Historicals presents Lost in a Kiss boxed set

Jo came down the stairs from the second floor that housed her and four other women—her girls, as she thought of them. Glancing around her establishment, she faltered to a halt on the last step when her eyes came to rest on the man in black. Carter. They'd never been formally introduced, but months ago, she'd asked one of her saloon's regulars about him. Jameson Carter owned the lively riverboat where she'd once spent the night with its previous owner, the late Jack Stoddard, who unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on one's point of view—had been as unable to have relations with her as one of the worms in the small but thriving garden to the side of her saloon.

Why she didn't simply stroll up to Carter, place her hand on his broad shoulder, and introduce herself, she had no idea. Well, she did actually. He sparked an interest in her that was simply not allowed. She knew she could have him in her bed if she wanted. All her life, she'd been told of her appeal—she was curvaceous in all the right places and had naturally red-tinged lips to which men showed an inordinate amount of interest. However, at the moment, she found she couldn't put her mouth to use to smile or even to speak. She simply didn't know how to approach the man.

Jo glided quietly toward her private table. She didn't want to speak to him in the guise of a saloon owner and a madam because more than anything, she wanted to impress him, talk to him, get to know all about him. Then she wanted to run her fingers through his dark brown hair and look into his intelligent toffee-colored eyes.

Oh, she wanted him in her bed all right—after all he was the essence of dash-fire and sensual appeal—but she also wanted a man, an interesting man like him, in other aspects of her life. To take supper with, to go to a play, to sit with on a sunny afternoon and talk about the day's events or read over the local newspaper. And women like her simply didn't get that opportunity, except the bed part, and then only for a night at a time. No matter how financially rewarding that arrangement might be, it wasn't what she wanted with Jameson Carter.

With his back still to her, Jo pulled out her chair, which made a thunderous scraping sound that seemed as loud to her ears as a gunshot. She cringed as heads started to turn and Carter looked around.

Another shot rang out and all hell broke loose. Jo realized that it hadn't been her chair making the first noise after all. As her heart leaped into her throat, she dropped to her knees and scrambled under the table.

About Sydney Jane Baily
Sydney Jane Baily completed her first novel at age 17. Thankfully, it resides in an undisclosed, secure location. She earned B.A. degrees in English literature and in history, and an M.A. in literature. During her career while continuing to write stories, she has been a copyeditor, cat snuggler, proofreader, production editor, mother of two, website developer, indexer, and dog walker, among other things literary and not.

While writing historical romance, she firmly believes in crafting happily-ever-after stories for an already challenging world. Born and raised in California, she currently resides in New England with her family—human, feline, and canine.

Website: http://www.lovehistoricals.com/
Blog: http://www.lovehistoricals.com/love-historicals-2/
FB:https://www.facebook.com/lovehistoricals
Twitter: https://twitter.com/lovehistoricals

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: The Promise of a Gentleman by #MFRWauthor Linda Rae Sande @lindaraesa

The Promise of a Gentleman

Book 1, The Cousins of the Aristocracy

Linda Rae Sande

Erotic Historical Romance

BUY LINK

Will the third time be the charm? In 1802 London, Emma Fitzsimmons is determined to fend for herself in life as well as love. Her banker has other plans for her future, though—marriage—as does her best friend. Given the options, should Emma consider the tall broker? Or the rake who isn't what he seems? What of her employer? Six can become three in this sensual tale of mismatchmaking at its finest.

When it comes to matchmaking, will the third time be the charm?

Excerpt

Emma was shocked into silence. It was bad enough to be in a man’s bedchamber. It was worse to be in his bedchamber while he sat naked covered only by a quilt. And here she was pressed up against his naked flesh while under the same quilt! Wearing his dressing gown!
Emma finally turned and looked at him, her face mere inches from his. “Other than my father’s, I have never been in a man’s bedchamber ..,” she started to say and then turned to face the fire, a bit of panic rising inside. “This is a bit … inappropriate,” she whispered as she shook her head, sure he could see how flushed her face had become from her sudden embarrassment.
“No one else need know this happened. No one else will know,” Thomas replied quietly as he watched her profile. “And it shouldn’t have,” he added as he leaned forward and used the heel of one hand to scrub his eyes. A sudden weariness settled into his bones, and he found it difficult to hold up his head.
Emma angled her head and turned to look at him. “Whatever do you mean?”
Thomas shook his head as he dropped his hand and then pulled his hand inside the quilt. “I was such a fool tonight,” he whispered finally. “The weather was horrible all afternoon. I sent my warehouse manager home because he was sick, and then I ended up staying so late, there wasn’t a room at the men’s club. All the inns were full. I believed I could make it home on horseback in a blinding rainstorm, and the wind …” He paused for a moment and turned to face her. “If you hadn’t had that lamp in your window, I would have walked right past the road to this house,” he said, suddenly realizing he could have spent an entire night in the cold and wet. “Surely, I would have died,” he whispered as he turned to stare at the fire again. A moment later, he pulled her into a hug and clung to her as if his very life depended on it.
At first, Emma gasped and almost resisted. At the same instant, she became aware of something she had been denying to herself.
I want this man, she realized, the scent of him enveloping her senses.
The feel of his flesh pressed against her had every nerve ending jumping. A fluttering filled her belly as her pulse pounded in her ears.

About Linda Rae Sande
A self-described nerd and lover of science, Linda Rae spent many years as a published technical writer specializing in 3D graphics workstations, software and 3D animation (her movie credits include SHREK and SHREK 2). An interest in genealogy led to years of research on the Regency era and a desire to write fiction based in that time. She can frequently be found at the local cinema enjoying the latest movie. During the winter, she houses junior hockey players and is a fan of the San Jose Sharks. She makes her home in Cody, Wyoming. Read more about her books on her website.

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/lindaraesa
Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Linda-Rae-Sande-Author/381743265303769?ref=hl
Blog: http://lindaraesande.wordpress.com/
GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7008676.Linda_Rae_Sande
Google+ :https://plus.google.com/u/0/104459146396988139872
My Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/linda2612/

#Thursday13 Favorite Authors with #MFRWauthor Karen McCullough @KgMccullough

MFRW Author Karen McCullough shares her Thirteen Favorite Authors.
Karen McCullough’s wide-ranging imagination makes her incapable of sticking to one genre for her storytelling. As a result, she’s the author of more than a dozen published novels and novellas, which span the mystery, fantasy, paranormal, and romantic suspense genres. A former computer programmer who made a career change into being an editor with an international trade publishing company for many years, she now runs her own web design business to support her writing habit.

Thirteen Favorite Authors

J.R.R. Tolkien 

C.J. Cherryh

Lois McMaster Bujold

Mary Stewart

Barbara Michaels

J. K. Rowling

Andre Norton

Ellis Peters 

Robin McKinley 

Jim Butcher

Dorothy L. Sayers

Karen's latest book is The Detective's Dilemma, an Erotic Contemporary Romantic Suspense, with Kensington Lyrical Press.
Although Sarah Anne Martin admits to pulling the trigger, she swears someone forced her to kill her lover. Homicide detective Jay Christianson is skeptical, but enough ambiguous evidence exists to make her story plausible. If he gives her enough freedom, she’ll either incriminate herself or draw out the real killers. But, having been burned before, Jay doesn’t trust his own protective instincts…and his growing attraction to Sarah only complicates matters.

With desire burning between them, their relationship could ultimately be doomed since Sarah will be arrested for murder if they can’t find the real killer.

Her fingerprints are on the gun, but Sarah swears she’s innocent.

Amazon BUY LINK

Chapter One EXCERPT

The crash of something hitting the floor jerked her awake.
Sarah lay for a moment, listening, wondering what might have fallen, but not yet alarmed enough to drag herself out of bed and investigate.
An even louder thunk shook the house. She jolted upright in bed. Something had hit the floor again--something heavy. She reached for the bedside clock and pressed the button to illuminate the face. One-thirty. Vince might still be up. Maybe he’d bumped into something. She hoped it was nothing worse. She kept telling him to follow the doctor’s orders and lose weight. At fifty-three, he already had heart problems.
The thought of him lying on the floor after a heart attack or stroke goaded her up and out of bed.
She snagged her robe off the chair and rushed out of her bedroom. A light shone at the opposite end of the hall that ran nearly the entire length of the house. In the past year, Vince had been having more trouble sleeping and often stayed in his study, working or watching television into the early hours of the morning.
The door to the room stood open, but she didn’t see him at first when she rushed in. Papers lay scattered across the floor, drawers hung open from the desk, and one sat on its side on the floor as well.
“Vince?”
“Over here. I--” His voice wavered and broke.
She spotted him on the far side of the room from the door. He was on his feet and two men flanked him. Hoods concealed their features, and they both wore dark, nondescript clothes. Each held a gun, one pointed at Vince’s head, the other turned in her direction.
Sarah froze. Her breath stuck in her throat, and her stomach clenched into a tight knot. “What--? What’s going on? Vince?”
His normally florid complexion had a gray cast, and his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, my dear. These gentlemen have--”
“Shut up,” one of the two ordered.
She didn’t realize there was a third man in the room until he stood beside her. Sarah backed away, but he grabbed her arm and held her in place. He squeezed the arm so tightly it hurt when she tried to wrench it away.
“Shut up.” He lifted her arm from her side to chest height and pushed his gun into her right palm. Strong, square, latex-gloved hands flanked hers, holding her fingers around the gun’s butt, pointing it toward Vince.
When she didn’t put her index finger on the trigger, he tried to jam it into position.
“No.”
She wriggled and twisted, but he kept such tight hold on her, she couldn’t get free. Her stomach churned.
“What are you--?”
The hand on hers squeezed, pulling backward on the finger just touching the gun’s trigger, then tugged again and again. Three shots exploded in rapid succession, one blast right after the other. The recoil pushed her back against the assailant’s body, but he held her steady so that all three bullets found their target.
Vince jerked after each shot. Red splotches exploded on his stomach, his shoulder, and the side of his face. At a distance of no more than eight feet, even the assailant’s shaky aim hadn’t missed.

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