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Julie Shelton: Passion’s Triumph (BDSM)

 Interview with Julie

What were some early influences on your writing?

Nancy Drew and Mad magazine.

Where do your ideas come from?

IMG_2358Everything I’ve ever seen, read, heard or done. I wrote an entire medieval romance just from seeing a blue gown worn by a minor female character in the movie Becket. The entire novel just sprang into my mind fully-blown. I could hardly write it down fast enough. I wrote it on 3 x 5 index cards, since I was in college doing research and that was all I had to write on, one sentence per card. They took up an entire shoebox. After carrying that shoebox around for forty years, that novel eventually became Dark Warrior.

Do you feel humor is important in romantic fiction?

I feel that humor is important in everything! I can’t imagine how dreary life would be without it.

Are sex scenes easy or difficult to write?

Easy in that I know where all the parts go. Difficult in finding exciting and interesting new ways to describe how the parts get there and what happens as a result. Otherwise what you get is a medical treatise. After all, there are only a finite number of words in the English language suitable for describing an orgasm. And they’ve all been used ad nauseum.

Name three things that inspire you?

Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in C Minor, the Smoky Mountains, the full-length ballet Romeo & Juliet, and medieval illuminated manuscripts. Okay, that’s four things. So sue me.

Dogs or cats?

Cats

Chocolate or Vanilla?

Pistachio

Coke or Pepsi?

Coke. Definitely Coke.

Coffee or tea?

Coke. Definitely Coke.

Leather or Lace?

Lace. And Velvet. And silk. Oh, and satin. Yeah, satin…with lace…

Guilty Pleasure?

Edwards® Hershey’s Chocolate Crème Pie. OMG! You know how most people cut their pies into six pieces? I cut this one into…two.

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About Passion’s Triumph

Former SEAL Dr. Lucas McKay and his brother Alex, former FBI agent, have been looking for their lifetime submissive. And they may just have found her in the new Director of the Passion Lake Library. She’s sweet. She’s curvy. She’s adventurous. She’s a green-eyed, freckle-faced redhead with the world’s sexiest glasses. And she’s chock full of secrets. Not the least of which is the fact that she writes steamy BDSM romances in her spare time. She’s also a virgin who has never done any of the kinky stuff she writes about.

When they discover this, they offer to act as her temporary Doms, giving her lots of first-hand experiences designed to enrich her writing and make her D/s scenes more authentic and emotional. Since she’s as attracted to them as they are to her, she leaps at the chance. Unfortunately, Lily has another, even deadlier secret. One with the potential to destroy not only her but the two men she’s grown to love. Will death triumph? Or will love?

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Excerpt

Alex climbed into his truck, but he didn’t drive off. He was too busy mentally reciting the FBI’s Manual of Administrative and Operational Procedures in an effort to deflate his cock enough to ease the stranglehold his jeans had around it. Holy shit! That woman is so fucking hot! The moment he’d laid eyes on her, his response to her had been instantaneous. The electrical current zapping between them had ripped the breath from his lungs. His heartbeat had gone from zero to sixty in one second flat and had started beating so hard he’d thought he was having a heart attack. He’d never reacted like that to any woman. Ever. And he’d had more than his fair share of those. But this one was different. He closed his eyes, squeezing his face tight. Lily Rose. God, what a beautiful name! Lily Rose. She was different, all right. She called to a part of him no woman had ever touched before. A part of his soul that had been waiting, biding its time, for just such a woman as Lily Rose Prescott.

And she was not immune to him either. The Dom in him had recognized the submissive signals she was giving off—her shyness, her diffidence, the constant blushing of that pale, translucent skin, her inability to hold his gaze. She had been aroused. He had smelled her essence, especially within the close confines of the elevator and his truck. If he’d swiped his finger through her slit, it would have come out wet and slick with her juice. Just the thought made him moan as his cock hardened once again, making him wince in pain.

Christ! I can’t go back to work like this! I’ll never hear the end of it. Suddenly putting his truck in gear, he checked both ways, made a u-turn and pulled into his driveway, heading back toward the garage. Fortunately his property was shielded from the neighbors’ view by a hedge, a cluster of crepe myrtle trees, and a gigantic live oak tree. Feeling desperate, awkward, and not a little stupid, he shoved his seat back, lifted his hips and unzipped his jeans, freeing his rock-hard erection. The skin was a mottled purple, and blistering hot to the touch. Wrapping his hand around the base, he began moving it up and down in hard, rapid strokes. As primed as he was, it didn’t take long before his eyes were closing, his body was tensing, and he was coming, great white globs of cum spurting all over his hand. Hissing his breath through his teeth, he continued to stroke himself and massage the head of his dick with his thumb, coaxing every last drop out of him. When he finally released himself, he realized he was shaking. And his dick was still semi-hard. As orgasms went, that one had been singularly unsatisfactory, leaving him feeling restless and scratchy, as if millions of insects were crawling just under his skin.

Grimly, he rummaged through the glove box, looking for a rag to wipe the stickiness off his hand, but the only thing he found was a coffee-stained napkin. Feeling more than a bit sheepish, he tucked himself back inside his jeans, moved the seat back up, and backed out of the driveway, his mind still reeling with what had just happened. He had just jacked off! Sitting in his driveway! Jesus, I haven’t done that since I was sixteen! As he turned to head back to the station, he realized that the truck still reeked of cum, so he quickly lowered the windows, hoping the breeze would dispel any lingering aroma. You’re in deep shit, McKay. Deeeep shit.

At the very last second, he jerked the wheel hard to the right and pulled into the clinic’s parking lot. Exiting the car, he entered through the back door. He had to tell Luc about this woman. Because if she was who he thought she was, Luc needed to be on board, too. The decision to take her as their sub and train her would have to be made by both of them. Alex walked past several open doors into empty examining rooms and headed straight for his brother’s office. Luc was sitting behind his desk, gazing intently at his computer screen, writing something on a pad on the desk top in front of him.

“I’ve found her,” Alex said quietly. “She is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met. And sweet? Fuck, is she ever sweet!” Now that he was describing her, his words tumbled all over each other in their effort to be heard. “And so fucking gorgeous! Red hair, perfect, pale skin, with just a light dusting of freckles. Green eyes. Ripe, delicious breasts, a body to die for, her ass is—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Lucas held up his hand. “Slow down. What the fuck are you talking about? Who are you talking about?”

“Lily Rose Prescott. Our new submissive.”

What?” Luc’s voice rose three octaves. “You just met her and you’ve already talked her into being our submissive?”

Alex shrugged. “Well, not exactly,” he had to admit. “She doesn’t know it yet—”

About the Author

Julie has always loved stories, both reading and writing them. A career as a children’s librarian eventually led to her dream career as a freelance storyteller and puppeteer, a business she operated successfully for twenty-five years. During that time she created and wrote all the original material for Kidstuff, a monthly language arts resource newsletter for early childhood educators. For that endeavor she won the prestigious EDPRESS Award, given by the Educational Press Association of America. She has also written other resource materials for preschool and early elementary teachers.

Now she writes erotic romances. Go figure.

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Other Books in the Series

Passion’s Dream

JulieShelton_PassionsDream_FULL copyWhen Clay “Raven” Nighthorse is offered a job as bodyguard to a woman being stalked by her vengeful ex, he’s ready to turn it down. Until he discovers that she is the woman he met on a beach three years ago. The woman with whom he felt an instant connection. The woman who has been haunting his dreams ever since.

Leah Stanhope has never forgotten the day she found her husband in bed with another woman. Nor has she forgotten the kindness and compassion of the complete stranger who’d simply held her in his arms and let her cry herself out on a public beach. She despairs of ever seeing him again until fate brings them together in a conflagration of desire and smoking hot passion. Can Clay convince Leah to risk her heart? And when her stalker finds her, will Clay be able to stop him in time?

Amazon

Passion’s Fury

JulieShelton_PassionsFury_FULL copyWhen Simon Rafferty finds Kylie Ferrell sleeping in her broken-down car by the side of the road near Passion Lake, Virginia, the connection between them is instantaneous and combustible. He recognizes her as the woman he and his two brothers have been searching for all their lives. Their lifetime submissive. And the fact that she’s homeless, injured, and targeted by the mob? Minor details.

Identical triplets and former spec ops soldiers, Caleb, Simon, and Ash Rafferty are more than capable of handling anything life throws at them. Including a sweet, sexy, lusciously curvy woman who has sworn off all men and who is clueless about the darkness of their needs and desires. Clueless…but intrigued. These dominant alpha males will do whatever it takes to get her into their bed, their hearts, their lives…and their dungeon.

But Kylie has secrets that put them all in deadly danger. And when that danger catches up with her, Caleb, Simon, and Ash must launch a desperate search to find her before she is ripped from them forever.

Amazon

Passion’s Hope

Golden Flogger Award -- Nominee

JulieShelton_PassionsHopeV2 copyOn the run from an abusive Dom, Charlotte Fielding has sworn off men and the BDSM lifestyle. She’s only attending this particular Open House for the free food. But when her abuser, who also happens to be at the club, confronts her, former SEALs Nikolai Rostov and Jay Gillespie come to her rescue and offer to help. But that would require her to trust the two hunkiest Doms she’s ever met. And Charlotte’s all out of trust.

But fate has brought these three people together—Nik, the big Russian Daddy Dom, Jay, the switch, and Charlie, the submissive who needs what both of these men have to offer. Just as they need what she has to offer. Can she learn to trust them? Can she risk her heart? And when danger comes for her will she stay and let Nik and Jay risk their lives to keep her safe? Or will she run—and risk destroying the only happiness she’s ever known?

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Sabrina York: Guard Dog (Stone Hard SEALS and Hot SEAL Crossover Novella)

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Love Hot SEALs?

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About Guard Dog

A scorching sequel to Stone Hard SEALs

Mason Steele expected to be a SEAL until the day he died. And he was. A pity they revived him. Now he’s been mustered out of the Navy and his life seems wholly unsatisfying. He misses the action; he misses the camaraderie; he misses being able to use his tightly-honed skills. He’s lucky to have snagged this job with GAPS—the Guardian Angel Protective Services—it provides some hope for his future. But the last thing he wants to do is babysit a spoiled heiress who is obsessed with the color of her nail polish and carries a Chihuahua in her purse.

But there’s more to Pansy Hightower than can be seen at first glance. She’s smart, sassy and determined to save the business her late mother built. She resents having a guard dog and does what she can to lose her muscular shadow. But when it becomes clear that someone is targeting her—perhaps for the same kind of fatal “accident” that befell her mother, she decides having the 240 pound SEAL with killer instincts and lethal hands at her back might be a good idea after all.

Until they share a kiss, that is. Until those lethal hands prove they have other talents as well. Talents that leave her breathless and wanting and weak. The last thing either of them wants is a relationship, but the scorching passion between them cannot be denied…even though it will undoubtedly spell disaster for them both.

Excerpt

“All right then.” Pansy’s surprisingly chipper voice cut through his dismal mood. It had been mortifying admitting his weakness, his failure, especially to her. It was something of a relief that she didn’t seem to understand the deep implications of his confession.

He dared a glance at her. Even bedraggled and tattered as she was, he wanted her. She shot him a bright smile. It made him glower. “All right then, what?” he muttered.

“All right, then. You’ll do.”

You’ll do? You’ll do? Irritation riffled through him. When she tipped her head and her ponytail swung, his ire blossomed.

“But I don’t know about the others.”

“The others are excellent.” He wasn’t sure why he was arguing with her. He wanted this job. He wanted to be with her. He wanted to keep her safe. And for some reason, thought of some other dude, even one of his brothers in arms, stepping into the duty rankled.

“But I don’t know them.”

“We’ll arrange a meet.” It was standard procedure…when they weren’t on a covert job.

She put out a lip. God he wanted to suckle it. Maybe it would be better if someone else took over. He was far too attracted to her to keep a clear mind. “But I want you,” she said.

Again, her words made something hard and needy sizzle through his bowels. He knew what she meant. He knew she was talking about her protection and not some scalding, savage coupling in the big bed in the next room that was far too close to be successfully ignored.

It was a testament to his delusional state that all he could think about was sex. All he could think about was stripping her naked and taking her here and now. That she wanted it as much as he did.

He imagined he could smell her arousal in the air, which was ridiculous.

A woman like her and a guy like him?

Yeah. Nucking futs.

“No worries. I’ll be on your team. But we’ll have at least three others.” Two on days and two on nights. Although, if he had his way, she wouldn’t be going out again. Certainly not to clubs where he couldn’t guarantee her safety. On that note, he fixed her with a dark look. “We need to talk about security. You’re going to have to make some lifestyle changes until this threat is contained.”

“Like what?”

“Like going out in public.”

“I have a business to run.”

“Is that what they call it? Partying all night with entitled socialites like Monique Dupree?” He didn’t mean to snarl it as he did. But it hardly mattered. She was utterly unaffected by his ferocity.

“Those entitled socialites are my customer base. More than that. They are my influencers.”

He had no idea what that meant. “Too many people. Too many blind spots. We need to keep you in controllable environments.” Like this hotel. Like this suite. That bed…

“Controllable environments?”

Again with the pouting lip. God. It was driving him crazy.

With a grunt, he pushed to his feet—ignoring the sharp string of yips this elicited from Ratacus—and prowled to the wall of windows, pulling back the curtains and peering out at the night in a pretense of assessing any potential hazards. Her suite was on the thirtieth floor. Doubtful anyone would enter from the balcony. Still, he checked the lock on the door. Probably wouldn’t hurt to install a door brace on the front door. He strode back to the foyer and jiggled the handle. Yeah, definitely a brace. He made a mental note of other upgrades the suite needed, of the things he needed to check. First order of business was to sweep for any bugs and check for hidden cameras.

He glanced over at Pansy and immediately revised his priorities. She was leaning back with her head resting on the sofa, her eyes closed. Her face was a cameo of perfection, but it was wreathed in exhaustion. First order of business was to get her to bed.

Lust lanced him.

Shit.

No. Get her in bed.

Alone.

By herself.

So she could sleep.

Aw, hell.

His gaze skated over her and he took in the rips in her dress, the scrapes on her legs and the dirt smudging her cheek. He should have tended to her wounds right off the bat. He should have seen to her comfort. He should have—

An ominous clicking sound and a sudden riffle of movement near his ankles captured his attention and he glanced down.

Lola, in her pink tutu glared up at him, her lip curled over impressively pointy teeth. Mason tipped his head to the side and met her challenging gaze with one of his own. It said: Really? Whatcha gonna do, Ratacus?

He probably shouldn’t have.

She lifted her leg.

And peed on his boots.

“Son of a bitch.” He didn’t mean to boom as he leaped back, but he did. Pansy shot up, her eyes wide. “What?” she cried. “What is it?”

He shot her a contrite look. “Your dog peed on my boots.”

“She does that.” Pansy huffed a sigh and headed for the powder room to grab a hand towel. “One of the reasons I don’t date.” She knelt before him and mopped up the puddle.

He should have stooped to help her, but honestly, he couldn’t. He couldn’t move to save his life. Because there she was, kneeling before him, with her head so close…

A scintillating thought, a captivating vision, a scalding need rose like the hydra. That, and a lowering realization.

He was a pervert. A goddamn pervert.

She was cleaning his fucking boots for God’s sake.

“You need a shower.”

Right. No idea why he blurted that.

Well, maybe one idea. He desperately needed her to stand. To move away, before he lost his mind and did something insane and necessary, like pull her closer.

She looked up at him. He forced himself to step away, he had to. Or his erection might have brushed her cheek.

And that would have been a disaster.

“Yeah. Um. You’re all banged up. We should get some antiseptic on those scrapes. Do you have a first aid kit?”

She said nothing so he glanced at her. That she was staring at his crotch sent a bolt of lightning through him. Her tongue peeped out and she lifted her gaze. He could have sworn he saw something simmering there. He tried mightily to ignore it.

Surely it wasn’t what he thought. Imagined. Ached for.

“Do you? Have a first aid kit?”

She shook her head. “I have no idea.” Nearly a whisper.

“I’ll call the concierge.” This was a penthouse suite. Surely there was a concierge. “Why don’t you go…um, clean up and I’ll call down for something.”

She stood slowly, holding his gaze. Something about her, her energy, her intensity, had shifted. It made him antsy. It made him restless. It made him hungry. She turned around—his heart sank—but then she said, softly, with a tentative quiver to her voice, “Could you unzip me?”

Holy. Fuck.

She peeped at him over her shoulder. Her eyes, so beautiful and blue, bore into his. “I can’t do it myself.”

He was certain she could. She was a grown woman. She’d been dressing—and undressing—herself for years. But he couldn’t refuse. Not when she asked so politely. “S-sure.” Hopefully she missed the stutter.

She could not have missed the fact that his fingers shook as he tried to grasp the tiny teardrop at the top of her zipper. Why the fuck did it have to be so tiny? It took forever for him to make the long journey down her spine, partly because the damn zipper kept catching and partly because he really wanted to savor the journey. As it advanced, more and more of her creamy skin was exposed. He wanted nothing more than to place his palm on her, to stroke her. To feel the heat of her skin against this.

But she’d asked him to unzip her. Not make a move.

It was a damn good thing he’d developed indomitable willpower as a SEAL. Denying himself things crucial to his being—air, water, food—was par for the course in their training.

This was by far the most difficult denial of all.

When he reached the bottom of the zipper, when a hint of a crease at the base of her spine was exposed, he stepped back. Though it cost him. “There,” he said.

Jesus, God. He was going to heaven for this.

He fucking better.

His restraint was nothing short of a penance.

But then…

Holy God.

But then…she shifted her shoulders and the scrap of material drifted to the floor. She shot another glance at him, something that was too much of an invitation to be misunderstood or misconstrued, and, wearing nothing but her skimpy bra and panties, padded into the bathroom.

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About Sabrina York

Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy to scorching romance. Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests. Get updates and alerts from Sabrina here: HotSheet Sign Up.

Sabrina’s Military Romance Titles!

Recent releases from Sabrina York

 

Sabrina York: Tarnished Honor (The Incomparables)

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Tarnished Honor by Sabrina York

One of six amazing novels in a landmark collection honoring the heroes of Waterloo and the ladies they love!

This limited edition box set includes 6 scorching romances that commemorate the 200th anniversary of the June 18, 1815 Battle of Waterloo.

From the Duchess of Richmond’s ball in Brussels to the Battle of Waterloo and beyond, join these six unforgettable heroes as they journey back from the physical and emotional trials of war and discover the passion that thrills the body can also heal the heart.

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Interlude with a Baron by Cerise DeLand

Emma wants only an interlude with the man she’s adored for years. But Drayton Worth has spent five years riddled with guilt for hurting her—and he’s determined to have more than a few nights in her bed.

Tarnished Honor by Sabrina York

Daniel Sinclair is a broken man with war wounds that are physical and spiritual. He’s weighed down by grief and guilt and tormented by his tarnished honor. When he meets Fia Lennox, a beautiful and brave Highland lass in dire need of his protection, he sees in her his chance for redemption…or utter damnation. Because despite his valiant attempts to resist her, he cannot.

Love After Waterloo by Suzi Love

When Lady Melton and her son join Captain Belling and the last wounded soldiers evacuating from Waterloo to London, she expects clashes with army deserters but doesn’t anticipate how falling in love with the antagonistic captain will change her life.

Dreaming of Waterloo by Lynne Connolly

Paul “Lucky” Sherstone daren’t even let his wife too close because of his headaches and the living nightmares he can’t dispel. Hetty hardly knows the man who comes back from war, but one thing she does know—she still wants him.

The Captain’s Heart by Suzanna Medeiros

A man who is determined to fulfill his duty at the expense of his own happiness, a woman who wants only one taste of true passion, and a case of mistaken identity. Can Captain Edward Hathaway and Grace Kent overcome the guilt that continues to haunt them both and find true love?

For Love or Revenge by Dominique Eastwick

Captain Roarke Wooldridge is about to find out that sometimes love does heal all wounds.But when his need for revenge collides with desires he never believed he would feel again, will he be able to put aside the scars of Waterloo to embrace his future?

Incomparables Tarnished Honor copy

About Tarnished Honor by Sabrina York

Daniel Sinclair is a broken man with wounds that are physical and spiritual. He’s weighed down by grief and guilt that he could not save his friend, Graeme Lennox, and is convinced that a French lance left him less than a man. He has no prospects. Nothing left but his tarnished honor. But then he meets a vexing boy who makes him question even that.

Fia Lennox’s world turned on its end with her brother’s death. She’s gone in one fell swoop from lady to servant…to a woman on the run. The world is a dangerous place for a woman alone—even when she is masquerading as a boy—so when she meets up with a strong, valiant ex-cavalryman, she decides to become his traveling companion. Whether he likes it or not.

Battling villains, would-be-friends and their own finely-forged battlements, Fia and Daniel rush toward their destiny, a scorching passion and, hopefully, redemption. Can love conquer all? Even the ghosts of the past?

Excerpt

Glorious.

There was no other word for it. Simply glorious.

Daniel tipped his face up to the sky and grinned. The sun was shining and the breeze was mild. The sky was blue and tufted with fat white clouds. It was a lovely day to travel—it could have been raining, could have been cold. But since he’d set out from London, on this lengthy journey to Inverness, each day had been prettier than the last.

His mood had improved too. He was swamped with the conviction that he’d done the right thing, leaving his haven. As much as he appreciated his position at the club, he’d allowed himself to sink into it, into the rut of it. He’d allowed himself to wallow in his woes.

There was no wallowing on the road; there simply wasn’t time for it.

It was energizing to be traveling again, invigorating to be out in the world, breathing fresh air and going somewhere. He enjoyed the solitude, the quiet, the absence of need to make conversation.

That left him alone with his thoughts, his regrets, his guilt, but such specters had haunted him for so long, they were like old companions. He wouldn’t know who he was without them.

Aye. This was far more healing than any medicine—the power of his mount between his thighs, the kiss of warmth on his face, the movement. Surprisingly, his leg hardly pained him at all, except when he moved suddenly. In fact, it even felt better after several days of riding. He hadn’t fallen off his horse once.

Hunnam was in good form as well. No doubt he’d enjoyed the fresh air and the chance to prance once again. An hour’s exercise a day was one thing, but for a Scots Grey, the chance to run and run wild spoke to his soul.

It spoke to Daniel’s too, so he put his heels to his mount’s sides and gave him his head.

And it was glorious.

He hadn’t realized how closed up he’d allowed himself to become. How isolated. He hadn’t realized how much he’d allowed his injury—and his guilt—to shrink his horizons.

Well, his horizons weren’t limited now. They spread before him in a verdant green wash that stretched as far as the eye could see. He passed a loch and paused to admire the sparkling waters, to watch an osprey swoop down to snatch a hapless fish.

And damn, but it was a fine thing to be back in Scotland. Daniel hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed hearing the lilt of his own brogue, or tasting a well-made haggis. The Brits didn’t care for haggis, a fact he’d never quite understood. When created by someone who knew what they were doing, it was delicious. And Scottish innkeepers, apparently, knew what they were doing. Or their wives did.

There was no doubt about it, he’d probably gained a stone since crossing the border to his homeland. He’d never felt so vibrant and alive. And while he had enjoyed the occasional chat with a fellow countryman, he had never enjoyed his own company more. There was something about being alone with one’s thoughts that was very peaceful. It allowed a man to explore his soul at leisure without interruptions. It allowed a man to process all that had happened in his life. To put everything in the place it belonged. Though he still had several days of travel, at most a week, he was already lamenting the journey’s end.

After he passed the Kinclaven Crossroads, the landscape changed from fields and farms to orchards. The looming trees shaded the road in a lacy pattern; the scent of crisp apples filled the air, tempting Daniel to reach up and pluck one for a taste.

He did not. That would be stealing and he was a man of honor.

He pulled back on Hunnam’s reins when he spotted a white mare standing in the road. She was difficult to miss. Her lines were exquisite, her saddle and tack were the finest…but she had no rider. His brow wrinkled as he rode closer. No one would ever abandon such a fine horse. It was—

“Blast.”

The imprecation came from the leafy tree next to which the mare stood.

Daniel glanced up; the boughs riffled. An apple fell to the ground.

The mare whinnied and walked over to it, lipping up the treat.

Another apple fell and the horse made short work of that one was well.

“Stop eating them all,” the tree said. “Save some for me.”

Daniel cleared his throat. It seemed prudent to make himself known. “Hullo?”

The leaves rustled and a face peered out. Enormous blue-green eyes stared at him. Something flickered through them. Something that could have been construed as…guilt.

Daniel frowned. “What are you doing up there?” he asked.

The eyes blinked. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” He drummed his fingers on his saddle. “Are you stealing apples?”

The chagrined expression on that elfin face was nearly whimsical. “Is this your orchard?”

“Indeed it is not.”

An entrancing, mischievous smile blossomed and the thief tossed him a fat red apple. “Then catch.”

He did not. He did not catch. The apple bounced off his pate.

“Oh really,” an amused voice echoed from above. “Let’s try again.”

“Let’s not.”

Too late. Another apple flew in his direction. He missed it again. It fell to the ground and Hunnam gobbled it up.

“Sir, you are supposed to catch them.”

“I doona care to abet you in your thievery—” Another missile flew. By the grace of God, he caught this one. “Please stop throwing stolen apples at me.” It was large and red and shiny and looked delicious. Aside from that, it smelled quite tantalizing. As he felt he had earned it, he polished it on his lapel and took a bite. Flavor exploded in his mouth and juice dribbled down his chin. They were excellent apples.

The face disappeared, followed by more rustling. A satchel fell to the loam with a soft thud. Then a pair of feet appeared. Legs. Slim hips. Slender shoulders and then a mop of tousled black curls.

A boy dropped to the ground with an oof. He looked up at Daniel, his head tipped saucily to the side, and then he grinned. It was a rakish grin. “Not stealing,” he said. “Borrowing.”

This he said with such conviction, Daniel had to struggle not to laugh. This was no laughing matter. Thieves ended up in the gaol. “Ah. Borrowing. Surely you won’t mind explaining that to him.” Daniel nodded to the distance, where a farmer was running through the trees toward them, arms flailing.

The boy’s eyes widened. He picked up the satchel and hefted it over his shoulder. Then he bounded into the saddle and shot a glance back at Daniel. His grin was wicked as he urged his mount forward…leaving Daniel behind to explain to the farmer why his apples were missing.

And why apple juice dribbled from his chin.

About Sabrina York

Sabrina_head_logo copyHer Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy to scorching erotic romance. Connect with her on twitter @sabrina_york, on Facebook or on Pinterest. Check out Sabrina’s books and read an excerpt on Amazon or wherever e-books are sold. Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests.

 

 

Em Brown: Punishing Miss Primrose (Books I-V)

Women and Sex in Georgian England

by Em Brown

In Georgian England, women were not considered sexual beings. They could, however, be corrupted by men, who were allowed their sexuality. A woman’s virtue was a dear thing. In Pamela, Samuel Richardson’s highly popular novel of the time, the virtue of the heroine is rewarded when, after resisting all efforts by her wealthy master to seduce her, she receives his sincere proposal for marriage.

To this day, it is not uncommon to find stories where the woman is relatively chaste and inexperienced in sex while the man is the more experienced and more assertive one. If the heroine does have her sexual desires awakened, it is often at the hero’s doing. I’ve written such stories (Mastering the Marchioness and Submitting to the Rake), but these days, my heroines tend to be just as openly sexual, experienced, and feisty in bed as their male counterparts.

The heroine of my Punishing Miss Primrose series, Beatrice Primrose, is completely comfortable in her sexuality and has no trouble asserting it—to the consternation (and arousal) of the hero, Lord Carey. One reviewer described her as a “believably strong as nails female who is more than willing to go toe to toe with this hot as hell [marquess].” In the story, the bedchamber is the setting for a power struggle between two very passionate people, each vying in their own way to right a wrong and avenge the past.

Punishing Miss Primrose is set in the Regency period, but Regency views on the sexuality of women did not differ greatly from those of the Georgian period. Nevertheless, I had a great deal of fun writing a heroine who was strong in her sexuality, even though women who were lascivious were often considered wicked, as in Henry Fielding’s Shamela, or they were prostitutes, as featured in John Clelend’s erotic novel of the same decade, Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure.

Woman’s sexuality has come a long way since then, but I can’t help wondering if we still have a ways to go.

Punishing Miss Primrose-highres (3) copy

 About Punishing Miss Primrose, Parts I-V

Miss Primrose needs to be punished.

A member of the wickedly wanton Inn of the Red Chrysanthemum, where the most taboo and illicit pleasures are indulged, Miss Primrose—or Mistress Primrose, as she prefers—left Nicholas Edelton a shell of a man. Now his older brother, Spencer Edelton, the Marquess of Carey, intends to provide her a set-down she will never forget.

Weary from exacting her revenge upon the man who raped her sister, Beatrice Primrose has had her fill of men of privilege and presumption, but she accepts a fateful invitation from a handsome nobleman to spend a sennight at his estate for a grand sum of money. She soon learns, however, that she will not get to reprise her role as Mistress. To her horror, she finds his lordship expects her to submit to him!

But Beatrice won’t give in so easily.

In a clash of wills, fueled by vengeance and lust, Lord Carey and Miss Primrose wrestle for dominance in, and out of, the bedchamber. Their biggest struggle, however, may be against their own desires…

Can Miss Primrose take what she dishes? And will Lord Carey succumb or succeed in punishing Miss Primrose?

This book is available FREE at most major retailers:

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 Excerpt

“I thought I told you to wait in your chambers.”

The voice at the entrance startled her, and she dropped the book. Turning, she held up her lamp. His lordship stood with his hands at his hips. He had removed his coat, and his hair was slightly disheveled, as if he had run his hands through it several times. There was a gloss to his eyes that she had not noticed during dinner.

“A Mistress does not receive commands. She gives them,” she informed him as if he were her student. She set the lamp on a table nearby.

The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he were about to smirk.

“And you take great pleasure in commanding others,” he said as he advanced toward her.

Did he mean to accuse her? she wondered.

He stopped and picked up her book, noting its title. “How fitting.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Your pardon?”

“Have you read it?”

“Some years ago.”

“And do you find a kindred spirit in the heroine, a whore, thief, and felon?”

The antagonistic edge in his tone made her defensive. She snatched the book from him, though it was his property.

“Through Moll Flanders, the author has painted the plight of women with great sympathy. One cannot help but admire the determination and resourcefulness of Mrs. Flanders.”

“A woman of loose virtue, dishonest, scheming—by her own admission. In the end, she and her husband live in sincere penitence for their wickedness.”

“A luxury not afforded to many.”

He paused in thought. “You believe her actions were compelled by her circumstances.”

“A woman must make her own fortune and seek her own justice. She cannot expect these will be granted to her in any easy form. She may be the most moral and honest and intelligent creature, but these virtues are not always awarded. And if a wrong be done to her, who will defend her? Will it ever be made right?”

Seeing his look of surprise, she realized she must have spoken too vehemently. She glanced away to hide her emotion.

“An unfortunate reality,” he said, after a pause, with more compassion than she expected. “But one’s circumstances, no matter how dire, do not absolve a man of wrongdoing.”

“You would that a beggar submit to starvation rather than steal a loaf of bread?”

“Are your circumstances comparable to that of a beggar?”

She stared at him. Why would he ask such a question? What a strange evening this had become! Though she was partly excited to be engaging in a discussion on the merits of virtue—she could think of no one of late with whom she had had such interesting discourse, and he had listened to her opinions without hastily dismissing them—it was wholly unexpected, leaving her perplexed and a little rattled.

“My circumstances are no affair of yours,” she said.

Hoping to place some distance between them so that she could compose her thoughts, she turned away from him, but he reached for the bookshelf beside her, blocking her path with his right arm. He was now closer to her than ever, and she detected the aroma of brandy upon him. Her pulse quickened. She had neglected to devise a strategy for her engagement with this patron, and she sensed the danger of not having done her due diligence, especially as she found herself responding in a most inconvenient fashion to his nearness.

About the Author

Em Brown writes erotic, mostly historical, romance. She especially enjoys wickedly wanton tales from the Georgian and Regency periods. For more about her stories, please visit www.EroticHistoricals.com, where you can sign up for a quarterly newsletter to be eligible for early peeks, freebies, and specials.

Heidi Loeb Hederich: Love Target

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Heidi Loeb Hegerich will be awarding $30 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter during the tour. Click here for the Rafflecopter. Click the banner above to follow the tour and increase your chances of winning.

Author Insights

The title of my debut novel, Love Target, is ambiguous. It refers both to the lead character—Ingrid Liebschreiber—being a target for the men who pursue her. But it also refers to Ingrid’s overriding quest: to find true, lasting love herself.

AuthorPhoto_LoveTarget copyWhile I was writing Love Target, I never thought of which genre or subgenre it would fall into. But after its publication, my marketing campaign—such as it is—demanded I do so. I actually had to ask myself: What is this book about? I decided my novel is, well, primarily a love story. Therefore, it falls into the categories of “chick lit” and “romance.” (It also is a historical novel, since it is set in the 1960s and ‘70s, and historical figures, places and events from those years are recreated as accurately as possible.)

When readers first meet Ingrid, she is a teenage showgirl in Rat Pack era (early 1960s) Las Vegas. Over the course of the book, she encounters nearly the entire spectrum of men. Each lover introduces her to a different form of seduction, imparting to her another thick chunk of hard-earned wisdom, as well as perspective on what she does—and doesn’t—want in a partner. Among them are:

  • Scotty the car salesman—who employs brute force.
  • Eduardo the high-roller rake—who sweeps her away with suaveness.
  • Elvis the rock superstar—who intoxicates her with his magnetism and star power, sweet serenades and boyish confessions.
  • Harry Belafonte the sex symbol and smooth operator—who disarms her with flattery.
  • Armand the strong, silent, mature alpha male—whose manliness and manhood fill her up and send her head over heels in love.
  • Ari—her married boss, whose teary-eyed gratitude for reviving his mojo makes her feel wanted.
  • David—the ever-faithful friend and confidante, who worships her to the point of mythologizing her as “like a heroine in a novel.”

Ingrid experiences being a victim, a conquest, a temporary girlfriend, a fling, a mistress, a paramour…and a receiver of unconditional love.

But—as we all learn—nothing is simple or straightforward in matters of the heart. What’s more, you cannot wait for Mr. Right to come along and make your world whole. You have to be ready, yourself, for true, lasting love. And the same is true of Mr. Right.

You need to both be a target and have a target. And your aim must be true.

That—and the proper timing, and a bit of magic (real magic, in Ingrid’s case)—can lead to a bulls-eye.

That’s the takeaway from Love Target.

Funny—as a first-time author—I didn’t analyze and come to terms with my story before writing it. I just wrote it as honestly and faithfully as possible. Another genre into which my book falls is “memoir novel.” Love Target is, after all, based on my own life. Many first novels are semi-autobiographical.

For me, it took writing this book to help me better understand my own life! In doing so, I finally could see clearly where, in my younger days, I was right on target, and where I was errant, missing the mark in ways that were comic or outright tragic.

Same as with most lives. Perhaps, for that reason, readers will identify quite well with Ingrid’s adventures and misadventures. For there is a bit of Ingrid in just about every woman.

About Love Target

Teenager Ingrid Liebschreiber is devastated when her parents move the family from their native Munich to Los Angeles in the late 1950s. Homesick, she accepts a neighbor’s offer to get her a job as a showgirl in Las Vegas.

Intent on earning enough money to return to Germany, she must grow up quickly in the neon jungle—where she is pursued by high rollers and headliners, including a vacationing Elvis.

Life’s twists and turns land Ingrid in New York in the Swinging 1960s—where she is romanced by Armand: a strong, quiet, handsome businessman in “construction.” Most girls dream of Mr. Right, and Ingrid’s hard-won independence is challenged when she falls in love.

Will she find true romance—a man who can love her as much as she loves him? Or is “happily ever after” just a crazy fairytale?

 Amazon

Excerpt

The witch stared past me, lost in thought. Then she shook her head.

“I don’t know,” she began, haltingly. “There will be a man, a husband. Somebody that you’ve known. Somebody”—her voice rose—“with dark hair! And… eyes that are lighter. Maybe blue.”

BookCover_LoveTarget copy“I don’t know who this man could be,” I said to the witch.

“Trust me,” she said confidently. “Do you have any photographs in your wallet of who this man could be?”

I didn’t have a photo of David. But it didn’t matter, since he was married.

I fished out a photograph of Armand.

The witch held it up in her crooked fingers in front of her hooked nose. She twisted her neck, turning her head this way and that, peering curiously at the photo from different angles.

She handed it back.

“You should have never been with this man!”

I shrugged. “I wish I knew who this mystery man could be.”

“It is not important,” the witch said. “You will know in good time. You can bring him into your life. And I want you to do something.”

She rummaged on a shelf and removed several objects.

“Take these two candles. Write an affirmation on a slip of paper saying that you will be with this man with dark hair that you’ve known. Then put the paper between the candles, and melt the candles together. Light each one, and when they’re soft, mold them together.”

I took the candles. Well, it couldn’t hurt to try. Might even be fun.

About the Author

Heidi Loeb Hegerich has lived in places as varied as Munich, Las Vegas, Miami Beach, New York, Los Angeles, Squaw Valley and Reno. She has worked variously as a showgirl, business executive, entrepreneur, interior designer and real estate developer. She has traveled to six of the seven continents, and vacationed in spots as different as the French Riviera, the Andes and Afghanistan. She counts among her hobbies weight training, shooting assault rifles, and racing sand rails; she found skydiving entertaining but not as much of a rush as other pursuits.

A philanthropist for the arts, among other causes, Hegerich is now embarking on her own artistic quest as an author. The novel Love Target is her first book.

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Robin Leach book review in Las Vegas Sun newspaper

Sabrina York: The Elite Metal Collection

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About Elite Metal—Book One in the Elite Warriors Series

For decades the US Marines funded a top-secret unit known as Elite Recon. A deadly group of men and women sent to infiltrate dozens of countries completely undetected. Mission objectives so extreme casualties were not only probable, but expected.

The current batch of operatives had returned from hundreds of assignments unscathed…until one mission went horribly wrong. Several men lost their lives and the group disbanded. The remaining leathernecks were scattered in the wind with new identities. They were told to blend in. Be normal. Or face being forever silenced just like their fallen brothers.

Now, two years later, each living member of the group is kidnapped and given a chance to make things right. But this time they’re no longer under the thumb of Uncle Sam. A mysterious private backer who knows about their past has brought them back together. No longer are they forced to turn a blind eye to the lost and forsaken.

A new life. A new future…Elite Metal.

Bound By Steele
Anna Alexander and Jennifer Kacey

To save his Marine brothers and sister he must accept the past isn’t dead and buried.
Reuniting survivors means he is forced to first forgive…the enemy.

Chrome’s Salvation
Jennifer Kacey

A former leader of Elite Recon, reduced to nothing more than an apathetic existence.
Until his girl’s life hangs in the balance…now nothing will stand in the way of him coming back to life.

Adamantium’s Roar
Anna Alexander

Adamantium left Beth to what he thought was a better life, only to find she had been living in hell. Now he’ll do anything, break any vow, to claim her as his for all time.

Pure Copper
Heather Long

Copper will do whatever it takes to get the job done, even if it means seducing and betraying the one man who really sees her.

Sterling’s Seduction
Sabrina York

When a snoopy reporter threatens the Elite Metal, Sterling will do whatever it takes to kill her story about the team. Even if it means he has to tie her to his bed.

Platinum’s Choice
Rebecca Royce

Platinum left the life he had with Rose in New York to rejoin his team and silence the nightmares from Operation Phoenix.   But when Rose is forced to go on the run with Platinum’s hidden son, he will have no choice but to return to his old life and reclaim what he has ached for every day since. Red Wolf’s sniper wants to nudge Plat’s underbelly and they’re going to find out quickly how deadly he can be.

Mercury’s Poison
Saranna DeWylde

A scarred, mad genius more monster than man must protect the beauty he’s become obsessed with from a beast more terrible than himself.

Forged in Silver
Roxie Rivera

Rebel. Nomad. Troublemaker.

After surviving the double-cross during Operation Phoenix, Former Elite Recon Marine Silver embraces the underworld and builds a new life as one of the world’s most renowned thieves. Jewels, paintings, corporate espionage–there’s no job he won’t take for the right price.

Amazon

Win the Elite Metal Party Pack

Click here for Rafflecopter

  • Anna Alexander: Adamantium t-shirt & Autographed copy of The Cowboy Way
  • Saranna DeWylde: Ebook bundle of Fat and Slut
  • Jennifer Kacey: Signed print copy of Jennifer Kacey’s  BDSM Anthology and extra goodies
  • Heather Long: A print, autographed copy of Her Marine Bodyguard and $10 GC to Amazon
  • Roxie Rivera: MMA tshirt, Autographed copy of a print book & a button
  • Rebecca Royce:   Signed print copy of Alpha’s Strength and a choice of an ebook from her backlist
  • Sabrina York: Tiara, signed Tryst Island Print Book and Bling

About Sterling’s Seduction

When Sterling spots a reporter masquerading as a waitress in a dingy bar in Deep Ellum, he suspects she’s investigating the team. And that’s something he just cannot allow to happen. Too many lives are at stake. He will do everything in his power to learn the truth—even seduce her. And to stop her story from coming out? He might even tie her to the bed.

Nothing is off the table when it comes to keeping his brothers safe. Nothing. It’s a damn shame she’s everything he’s ever wanted. It’s a damn shame her touch warms his cold, dead heart.

Excerpt

sterling teaser copyAs she rounded the corner, her steps stalled.

Because there he was, leaning against his bike. Waiting for her.

Well, she hoped he was waiting for her. When he saw her, he unfolded his long legs and stood.

“Did you change your mind?” she asked, trying for a flippant tone.

His beautiful eyebrow arched. “About what?”

“Taking me home?” Might as well be brash.

He gestured to his bike. “My alternator is shot. I’m waiting for a ride.”

“Ah.” Why disappointment flooded her was a mystery. Or not.

“Was there…an offer on the table?” His voice was a low melody that danced on the skeins of air. It was annoying. And not.

“Hey. I’m not the one who walked away.” She tried not to let her petulance show.

He stepped closer and searched her face. She let him. Not hiding at all. Or not hiding everything. She let her interest show.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Pigtails—”

“Pigtails?”

“Yeah. Pigtails.” He flicked her hair, reminding her how she’d pulled it up. She’d been going for backwoods innocent, but it might have backfired on her. With a harsh movement, she yanked out the rubber bands and her hair fell around her face. His lashes flickered. Something that looked like hunger washed over his features.

“What do you want to get straight?”

His jaw clenched. “I don’t like questions. Pure and simple. Understood?”

The way he said the word, with a thread of dominance in his tone, sent a shiver through her. She lowered her eyes and nodded. “Understood. So…do you? Want to come home with me? No questions asked?”

“Maybe.” He checked his watch. “Looks like my ride isn’t going to show, anyway.”

Hardly the flood of interest she would have preferred. Irritation rippled. “Or I can give you a lift home.” And when his cheek bunched, “Or call you a cab.”

“I’d rather go home with you.” He stepped closer, too close, and pulled her against him. His fingers were harsh on her flesh, his insistence alluring. Yes, this was what she wanted. Something rough. Something ruthless. Something demanding.

Hunger rose in her, swamping her desire to finish this story and get back home. Hell, she could probe him with questions later. After. This need was far more pressing.

When he lowered his head, she caught a whiff of his aftershave and her knees locked. He was tall, muscled and rough around the edges. Just the kind of guy she’d always craved.

His lips touched hers and she nearly collapsed. It was a wild rush, a tumult of sensation. For a starved woman, as she was, it was irresistible. She couldn’t help but kiss him back, a manic frenzy. Her passion seemed to spur his on, and he wrapped himself around her, tipped his head and deepened the kiss. His hands roved over her back, her hips, her ass. Nothing tentative. Nothing tender.

When he lifted his head, she was a bowl of Jell-O. Ready and willing.

“So do you want to?” Her voice caught on the invitation.

“Yeah.” He yanked her tighter and his cock gouged into her belly, hard and needy. “Yeah. I want to. Just no more questions.”

No more questions.

Right.

About the Author

Sabrina_head_logo copyHer Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy to scorching erotic romance. Connect with her on twitter @sabrina_york, on Facebook or on Pinterest. Check out Sabrina’s books and read an excerpt on Amazon or wherever e-books are sold. Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests.

Free Teaser Book • Win the royal tiara!

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Christine Rains: Loose Corset (Dice and Debauchery, Book 1)

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Christine will be awarding one $10 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to one randomly selected winner during the tour. Click here for the Rafflecopter. Click the banner above to follow the tour and increase your chances of winning.

Interview With Geek Girl, Morgan Reid

by Christine Rains

Christine Rains: Thanks for coming over today, Morgan. I made TARDIS cookies, and there are beverages in the fridge. Help yourself.

Morgan Reid: Mmm, TARDIS cookies. I wonder if there are more chocolate chips on the inside than what I see. And thank you for having me. Oh, is that the newest D&D Monster Manual?

AuthorPic_Loose Corset copyCR: Sure is! You should see the illustrations. Wow. Uh, anyway, we should get down to business. Interview time.

MR: Not some lame what is my favorite food and what animal would I be kind of interview, right?

CR: No, no. Don’t worry. I want to talk about how you met Dean Bradley.

MR: Oh. * blushes *

CR: So how did you meet?

MR: Well, we’d been playing the same online role-playing game for two years. Steampunk Quest. Awesome game. Anyway, Emily — she’s my best friend and roomie — and I arranged for our group of players to meet at a gaming convention. We all thought it would be fun to dress up as our characters from the game too. I’m Geneve Gyrfalcon, the leader of the rebel faction.

CR: A key player in the game. So what did you wear?

MR: I let Emily have complete control over our costumes. She’s really into cosplay. She made our outfits. I had black riding pants that flared out, a leather corset with boots that matched, and long gloves that went up high on my arms. The corset was a little tight.

CR: A little?

MR: Okay. It was really tight. I could hardly breathe! I don’t know if Emily thought I was smaller in the chest than her, and she’s just a board with a few bumps on it. So after we met with the group and went to the pub—

CR: Wait. Before you go any further, what was your first impression of Dean?

MR: Gorgeous. Beyond gorgeous, really. Tall with lean muscles. He’s a fencer, you know. Thick black hair that I just wanted to run my fingers through and dreamy bedroom eyes. And his long fingers… Oh those fingers. The cherry on the cake was that he wore a long trench coat. How can anyone resist such a man? I hadn’t been so intensely attracted to a guy since, well, I hadn’t ever wanted a guy that much.

CR: Dean sounds yummy. So what happened after you went to the pub?

MR: I had trouble breathing. Damn corset. I excused myself, went to the restroom, and loosened the laces. The problem was that I couldn’t do them back up again after I had my breathing break.

CR: You couldn’t just text Emily to come and help you?

MR: No. I left my cell in my hotel room. I tried to get her attention from the back hallway of the pub, but she was too busy flirting. That’s when Dean… well, oh god….

CR: Came to your rescue, right?

MR: Let’s just say the laces of the corset did not get done back up. In fact, the corset slipped down. Right there in the dark rear hall.

CR: Hehehe! I won’t ask you the juicy details. I’ll let readers find out for themselves when they read the book.

MR: Thank you for that. I think.

CR: All right. I’m done with the grilling. Want to break out the dice and play a bit?

MR: Of course! Oh, these cookies are really good, by the way. Like David Tennant good.

CR: Now that’s a compliment! Thanks for the interview and for being a proud fellow geek girl. Let’s roll!

About Dice and Debauchery, Book 1

A weekend away at a convention is exactly what overworked student Morgan needs. Dressed as her character from her favorite online game, Morgan is braced—seriously, could her corset be tighter?—to meet the other players. As Lady Gyrfalcon, she’s ready for everything—except her intense attraction to Dean. A clandestine meeting in the hallway of the hotel and Morgan’s corset is looser but now she can’t breathe for entirely different reasons.

Utterly charmed, Morgan decides to roll the dice and indulge in a fantasy-worthy weekend of sexy roleplaying, scorching sex and life-altering orgasms. Still, through it all Morgan is too smart to believe the chemistry constantly stripping her of costumes and control can last more than the length of the convention. But if she wants to keep a relationship so intense she thought it only existed in fiction, she’s going to have to let go of her cool-headed logic and allow herself to fall far and fast for the perfect guy.

Excerpt

Geek girl problem #31: Your flat-chested best friend is a cosplayer who tries to fit you into her costumes when you’re built like Rose Tyler from Doctor Who.

Cover_Loose Corset copyAfter blotting my chest with a cool paper towel, I realized I couldn’t do the corset back up myself. And I’d left my cell back in the room.

Think clearly. Be rational. What would the Doctor do?

He wouldn’t be wearing this ridiculous contraption to begin with.

The hallway where the bathrooms were was pretty dark. Maybe I could wave Emily over. If Emily could turn her attention away from the guys.

Taking one more deep breath, I stepped into the hall and peered over at their table. I bit at my lower lip. Emily’s back was to me, but Sydney might be able to see me. I waved, holding onto the corset with one hand. When no one noticed, I wondered if I should shout.

Wait. There was an empty chair. His chair.

“Did you need a hand?” Dean’s breath was warm against my bare shoulder.

I turned slowly. My arm brushed him as he stood so close. With my heart pounding, I couldn’t find my voice. God, he was glorious. And when he smiled, an impish glint shone in those sexy hazel eyes.

Two cold showers tonight. No, three.

Wetting my lips, I forced myself to say something, anything that would be less embarrassing than just standing there drooling. “Come to kill me in a dark alley, Sir Thorton? Catch me unaware and undo the resistance in one silent motion?”

Dean’s grin widened. “Who said my plan was ever to kill you? You always assume, but you know so little of my desires.”

About the Author

Christine Rains is a writer, blogger, and geek mom. She has four degrees which help nothing with motherhood but make her a great Jeopardy player. As an avid gamer, she’s either going on adventures with her son or rolling dice with friends. Christine is a proud member of Untethered Realms and S.C.I.F.I. She has several short stories and novellas published. “Loose Corset” is the first book of her geeky and hilarious Dice & Debauchery series.

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