Girls Rule, Boys Drool by Lucy Felthouse
A lesbian mini-anthology
Add to your goodreads shelf~ Goodreads
Three lesbian erotic short stories from popular writer Lucy Felthouse.
Girls Rule, Boys Drool
Boyish dyke Toni is working at the local golf club, serving champagne to arrogant, privileged folk when she spots Clarissa. She’s one of the posh people, but she looks like she’d rather be somewhere else—anywhere else. Toni’s immediately smitten and wants to put a smile on the older woman’s beautiful face, so she decides to show Clarissa just why girls rule and boys drool.
Making An Impression
Joely’s holiday has consisted mainly of chilling out by the hotel pool, having the occasional swim and reading lots. That is, until a hot brunette arrives and suddenly, Joely has trouble concentrating on anything else. Her gaydar non-existent, Joely decides on an unusual course of action to find out whether the newcomer bats for the same side as her.
Fear as an Aphrodisiac
Girlfriends Nikki and Sonya are on holiday in Edinburgh, Scotland’s capital city. They’re having fun sightseeing, until a super-scary tourist attraction sends Nikki into meltdown. Once outside again, Nikki slowly starts to feel better—and, much to her surprise, horny. Quickly realising that the fear has acted as a potent aphrodisiac, she decides to take advantage of that fact, right there in the middle of the city.
Finally, Nikki and Sonya found the turning off Edinburgh’s Royal Mile that they needed. They’d expected a road, but Mary King’s Close was nothing more than a narrow passageway that looked like it led to the next street along. Glancing at one another, it seemed both girls suspected they were in the wrong place—despite the name of the alleyway—but as they headed along the close, they came across more signage and discovered they were wrong. The signs proclaimed that they were indeed at The Real Mary King’s Close, and this time they exchanged a relieved look and moved inside the tourist attraction.
After paying their money, they were put into a group that was already waiting, and after a few minutes was called to attention by a member of staff. The young man, dressed in incredibly old-fashioned attire welcomed them to the attraction and gave some brief information about what they should expect from the tour, as well as some health and safety spiel.
Then they were ushered deeper into the building and down some stairs. Another peculiarly-dressed actor met them and gave his talk. The group soon learned that Mary King’s Close had been a town of sorts, a collection of streets and houses, named after the most prominent local—Mary King. It had functioned well, this part of Edinburgh—in its day. But it had also befallen hard times and tragedy, including the Black Death. It was rumoured that people affected had been bricked into their houses to prevent the disease spreading further. It had never been confirmed nor denied, but the very idea sent a shiver down Nikki’s spine.
As they advanced into the underground town—now covered over by modern Edinburgh—they learned more about the inhabitants, their lives and, in some cases, their deaths. By the time they were shown the shrine of a young girl, covered with offerings both old and new, Nikki was clinging onto Sonya’s arm so hard that the other girl gave her a nudge.
“Oi, you’re hurting me! What’s the matter with you?”
“Sorry,” Nikki replied. “I’m getting a little creeped out, that’s all.”
“A little? The way you’re squeezing my arm, I’m beginning to think you’ve seen a ghost or something.”
“I said I’m sorry. God. Don’t you think it’s spooky down here?”
A meaningful glance from the tour guide shut them up. Nikki dropped her hand to Sonya’s and held it. The group continued through the subterranean labyrinth, listening to more tales of the past, the things that had happened within the very place they stood, over four hundred years ago.
Some periods of total darkness with recounts of history later, and Nikki was a nervous wreck. She’d always had an overactive imagination, and although she’d never seen a ghost—despite Sonya’s words—she believed in them and was really succumbing to the eeriness of the ancient place. She had gotten to the stage where she fully expected to see the spectre of little Annie—having left the site of her shrine—peering around a corner, beckoning to her. Or the chilly finger of a plague victim trailing down the back of her neck. She grew so paralyzed with fear that she fell silent and didn’t take in a word of the rest of the excursion—simply holding onto Sonya’s hand as they walked through the rooms and tunnels.
When they eventually emerged into the outside world once more, Nikki heaved a sigh of relief. “Sonya, darling, take me for a drink, now. A stiff one. A double vodka and coke sounds perfect right now. Maybe even a triple.”
“Were you really that scared?” The other woman looked disbelieving.
“What do you mean, were? I still bloody am. I’m sure I’d have found it interesting if I wasn’t so busy being terrified. I’m surprised I didn’t wet myself.”
“Aww, babe.” Sonya pulled the other girl into her arms. “I didn’t realise you hated it that much. We could have left if I’d known.”
“No,” Nikki shook her head. “It’s okay, I didn’t want to ruin it for you. I just got to the stage where I blocked it all out. But I’d still really like a drink, if you don’t mind.”
Sonya gently pushed Nikki against the wall of the alleyway and hugged her once more. “Okay, we’ll go for a drink soon. Let me hold you for a few minutes, first.”
The other girl said nothing, just relaxed into her lover’s embrace and slowly, very slowly, felt the fear ebbing away. With not a small amount of horror, she realised that she was turned on. Her knickers were damp and sticking to her, and the heat emanating from between her legs was unmistakable. What the actual fuck? She kept quiet, instead nuzzling into Sonya’s neck and pressing a kiss to the delicate skin there.
“Ooh,” Sonya said, shuddering, “that was lovely. What was that for?”
“For being nice.” Nikki’s voice was muffled, and she kissed her girlfriend again.
“Hey,” Sonya said, grabbing Nikki’s hands and squeezing them, “you’d better stop that, otherwise I’m going to get turned on. And that’s the last thing you want right now. I’m trying to be understanding here, sweetheart.”
Nikki came to the conclusion that she didn’t mind if Sonya got turned on, not at all. In fact, some sexy fun might just take her mind off the creepy underground place they’d just visited. It was damn weird that being scared had turned her on, but the more she thought about it, the more she figured it kinda made sense. Nothing, in her opinion, was scarier than death, and the French word for orgasm translated to ‘the little death’—so it was widely accepted that sex and death were connected. Sex was about life, death was about, well, death. So, in an attempt to stop thinking about things that confused the hell out of her, she was going to embrace life, wholeheartedly. And if that meant experiencing the little death, then so be it.
“I don’t mind,” she whispered into Sonya’s ear.
“What do you mean, sweetie?” Sonya replied, grabbing her shoulders and moving her back so she could look at her face. “You don’t mind what?”
“I don’t mind you getting turned on.”
About the Author
Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over eighty publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9
Celebrate the holidays with author AJ Best
If you could ask Santa for one thing, what would it be and why? I would ask him to cure everyone I know that suffers from an invisible illness. (Lupus, MSK, Fibro, RA, etc.) No person deserves to be in the pain that we suffer.
What is your favorite holiday candy? Ribbon candy. My grandmother used to keep them on her coffee table all holiday long. They were the all time best. (http://mrg.bz/etdzMX this is FREE and royalty FREE)
It’s the season of Egg Nog. Do you prefer it with rum, without alcohol or can’t stand the stuff? Gag, ick. Yuck. It’s like über thick milk. Yuck. Ick. But I’m sure if there were enough rum in one and I could get it down, I wouldn’t care.
What is one of your holiday traditions to do each year? I have to make the cookies that my mother taught me how to make. They are called Prize Cookies. She made the mistake of telling me they were mincemeat cookies the first year and I wasn’t going to eat a meat cookie. But she talked me into trying it and I’ve been stuck ever since.
If you could kiss any character under the mistletoe, who would it be? Cole Turner from Nancy Henderson’s book Wicked Redemption. MMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmm…….
Holiday cookies are my favorite to bake each year. Do you have a favorite holiday cookie that you enjoy each year? I told you about my favorite cookie. And since I’m having to talk about it again, I will give you the link to the recipe. You won’t regret it. http://goo.gl/6hXdVB
Thanks for letting me share Christmas with you Raine, it’s been wonderful. I hope to stop by again sometime.
Forgiveness by AJ Best
Secret Cravings Publishing
When the wires of communication get crossed and tangled, is love enough to bring everything back into balance?
Mary is prepared for the anniversary of a lifetime. Ten years of wonderful memories fill her mind. She can’t wait to see what the next ten will bring. When her plans for early morning seduction fail, her mind jumps to worst case scenarios.
Joe’s attention, focused elsewhere, may be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Will he be able to come up with a good reason for forgetting their anniversary?
As the day continues, will the answers Mary finds leave her in tears? Will she find the next ten years dreams shattered before her? Only Joe holds the answers to the questions her heart asks.
It seemed more and more lately that no matter how hard she tried, he looked right through her. It was infuriating and heart breaking. She’d had enough heartbreak during the past year to last her a lifetime. Her mother had been sick battling cancer all last year. Unfortunately she’d lost the battle. She’d made sure to pass on information to Mary while on her deathbed though.
Something Mary had never seen coming. She was adopted. Her world felt as if she had lost all control.
The adoption information that her mother had left with her will quickly found its way into the trash. Why would she want to find someone who didn’t want her? She had enough instances of that in her own home. She did wonder, after a year, if she had reacted too rashly. You never know when you’ll need family, and if she met her biological mother maybe she could figure out who she was, inside and out.
About the Author
Writing books has been a long time in coming for me. When I was younger, my father and I lived in a town where a kid could run the streets all ‘willy nilly’. When I was old enough to babysit myself I was off and running. To where you may ask, the library. At the time the library was in an old shop on a street in town. The children’s books were in the back room and that was where I spent my days. I was never without an adventure in my hands, and I never failed to finish the summer reading program with books to spare.
My love for reading didn’t stop there. My mother is an avid reader and she acquired most of her books from a exchange shop. You would purchase your books there, and return them for partial credit and get more. One night I was left with a bag of to be returned books. It was a Piers Anthony book, Night Mare to be exact. I devoured that book and any other that he has written. I currently am the proud owner of at least 70 of his books. I’m working toward getting them all, I wish he’d quit writing so quickly.
The writing bug caught me when my 12th grade English teacher wanted to use MY essay to show the class. He put it on projector film and everything. I was so excited. The assignment was to pick a month and write about it. Of course, being the child that I was I had to be difficult about it. The rest of the class chose June, July, April and went on and on about how lovely and warm and all of the fun things you can do. Mine was about December. I still remember the first line (and may have the transparency somewhere in my mess); December spreads her snow-filled wings and covers our world in cold despair.
From that paper on, you couldn’t stop me from writing. I found a few poems I had typed on an actual manual typewriter, and became a poet. I had a recurring nightmare, I wrote it down. I dreamed a dream and if I could remember it (which is harder now that I am older) I wrote that too.
In 2003 I started my first full blown manuscript. I still only have four chapters completed, but I swear I will finish it someday. I guess the short attention span has brought me full circle on writing short stories.
So, I guess that’s where I am today. Waiting for the first query letter to come through and make me a published writer. People ask me if I am a writer, and I firmly believe and tell them YES. I write, so that makes me a writer. I may not be published yet, but I will be.
I absolutely love to get email though sometimes with the scattered mind of a writer it takes a few days to get back to you! So please forgive me if I don’t get back to you right way, but I CERTAINLY will get back to you!
To get us started can you tell us a little about what you are working on or have coming out?
Currently, I’m working on the third novella in the Nick Spinelli Mystery series. The first novella, Cookies for Santa was released by Melange Books in November of 2012. The second novella in the series, Craving Vengeance, is set for release in fall of this year.
Two weeks ago, I signed with Whiskey Creek Press for two of my full-length novels. The first novel, Unforeseen Obsessions, is a romantic suspense, and the second novel, Taken by Surprise, is a women’s fiction novel with romantic and suspense elements.
Lastly, I’m just finishing a contemporary romance, Plan Interrupted, in which I will soon be querying for agent representation.
Do you have any guilty pleasures?
Oh yes, dark chocolate. I keep private stashes and use it as rewards for meeting goals.
Name one thing readers would be surprised to know about you.
I never read for pleasure until about five years ago. I can count on one hand how many fiction books I read prior to that. A friend of mine handed me a Janet Evanovich book one day and urged me to give it a shot. I not only read that one, but within one year’s time, I had read everything Evanovich wrote, as well as most of JA Konrath’s books. I believe I logged over 50 books read in that year.
Is there something special you do to celebrate when one of your books is released?
Not really, I just smile a lot, and sneak some dark chocolate from my private stash.
Could you tell us a couple of favorite books that inspired you to write?
I kind of touched on this already but…the Janet Evanovich Stephanie Plum series, and the JA Konrath Jack Daniels series, are what really got me started.
If you could collaborate with one author who would it be?
JA Konrath, I think he has a twisted mind like mine.
Are your characters able to love or do they need to be taught?
My main characters are able to love, but without a doubt, they need help to unleash it.
Thanks for coming. Is there anything else you want to add?
Check out my website/blog for news about upcoming releases, blurbs, and testimonials : http://valclarizio.wordpress.com/
You can also find me at:
Cookies for Santa (Think Christmas in July)
Detective Spinelli’s life is tossed sideways when he is reassigned from the Homicide division to assist in the Child Services division of the Social Services Department for the holiday season. From the beginning, Spinelli and Caseworker Shannon O’Hara generate their own kind of fireworks, causing more than the normal workplace stress. They both have their own philosophies for dealing with the clientele. However, the forces of nature have their own plan for Spinelli and Shannon.
Shannon moonlights as Santa Claus’ little helper at the mall, and when Santa and an elf turn up dead Shannon appears to be next on the killer’s list. Spinelli is placed back on homicide and goes undercover as Santa to help capture the killer. He catches a great deal of grief along the way but will he capture the heart of his little Santa’s helper as well?
Kindle and print versions available at Amazon:
Dominion Falls Series Book Two
Secret Cravings Publishing
The sins of a past she can’t remember could destroy a present she’ll never forget.
The crimes of her forgotten past threaten the very life Jane Doe has learned to cherish.
Jane is out of time. With a warrant on her head, a maniac out for her blood, and a secret baby on the way, something has to give.
Without Cole Mitchell’s help to find the answers, there may be no hope left.
Cole has nowhere left to hide. He unwittingly let Jane into his heart, and is ready to share the secret of his dark past.
Fate has a way of playing its hand, and tragedy strikes. With the world crumbling around them, it’s easy to lose faith. If they can’t forgive past sins, they have no hope for the future.
Because the noose waits for no man or woman.
She yelped when he grabbed her wrists and yanked her close. Like a startled deer, she froze in place. Then a small gasp of air and she sagged. “I’m sorry. My head. It’s racing. I don’t know what to think.”
“First off, stop worryin’ about Graham. He ain’t sendin’ no telegram.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Sure I do. After Michael broke his nose, he shut up real fast.” Cole laughed when her jaw dropped. When the amusement started to light up her features, it warmed him all the way to his toes. “Yeah. Graham was running his mouth, and Michael beat on him. He got knocked out cold.”
“Michael?” Through her tears, a laugh escaped. “He’s half Graham’s size. Goodness, he’s barely bigger than I am. How did he do that?”
“He said something about five brothers and a mean older sister.”
She shook her head with a sigh. “That is no guarantee, Cole. He could just be biding his time until he has something to get me on. He doesn’t care for me.”
“Let me worry about Graham.” He tugged her close, shoving the papers from his lap. Once she was settled there, he smirked. “Now ya got some stuff here that you gotta go through, and it’s all reading. That should excite ya.”
“You know what, Cole? I’m not excited. The more I learn about myself, the more trouble I seem to be in. I really am at a point where I don’t care anymore.”
“That don’t sound like the Jane I know.”
She snorted. “No one knows me. Not even me.”
“I’m not in the mood for arguing with you.”
“But arguin’ is what we do second best.”
He grinned at the small twitch he saw at the corner of her mouth. “And much as I’d love to remind ya what we do best…I don’t think you could handle it right now.”
“Besides, if we got ourselves hurt again because of our…best…Daisy would be awful mad.” He chuckled when she turned away as far as she could to hide her smile. “But that ain’t ever stopped me before.”
She let out a small squeal when his hand slipped under her skirt and along her thigh. Swatting at his hand, she playfully beat at his chest when he leaned in to capture her lips.
Her lips were warm and inviting. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her touch until she was there. He pulled her close and traced the seam of her lips with his tongue. She opened up to him so fast it took his breath away, and he shifted to lay her down on the floor.
She planted her hands on his chest and pushed him back. “Wait.”
Sarah Cass’s world is regularly turned upside down by her three special-needs kids and loving mate, so she breaks genre barriers, dabbling in horror, straight fiction, and urban fantasy. An ADD tendency leaves her with a variety of interests that include singing, dancing, crafting, cooking, and being a photographer. She fights through the struggles of the day, knowing the battles are her crucible and though she may emerge scarred, she’s also stronger. Changing Tracks is her debut novel, but she’s already ahead of the game with another novel set for release in April. While busy creating worlds and characters as real to her as her own family, she leads an active online life with her blog, Redefining Perfect, which gives a real and sometimes raw glimpses into her life and art.
Where to find me:
Redefining Perfect – http://redefiningperfect.com
Sarah’s StoryLines – http://authorsarahcass.com
Twitter – http://twitter.com/sadiecass
Facebook – http://facebook.com/SarahCass.Author
Author: Edie Hart
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Heat Rating: 2
Publisher: Breathless Press
Formats Available In: All eBook formats
Word Count: 15,962
Release Date: 24th May 2013
Blurb: Tessa is having one seriously bad day. After agreeing to dress as a cheesy mascot at a convention for her boss, her clothes get stolen, she gets chased through a sinister parking garage, and her apartment gets broken into and turned upside down.
Gray, an off-duty police officer, can’t resist the sexy legs he sees in costume at a hotel convention. When he catches sight of her running for her life through a dark car lot, he’s determined to find out what her story is and ends up promising to keep Tessa safe…even if that means taking her home with him.
Gray stepped outside of the hotel ballroom hoping the air would be cooler out there. He hated stuffy gatherings. Hell, he hated weddings. How two people could think they’d love each other forever was beyond him. Gray didn’t do love. Which was why he was stag at a co-worker’s wedding. He’d originally planned to invite Monique, but several months back she’d become demanding and talked about moving into his place with hearts and flowers in her eyes. So he’d ended it. Deep down, he’d known that she didn’t really want him. She wanted any warm body that would take care of her. She had slowly been trying to mold him into some GQ tycoon, telling him what to wear, how to act, and even going as far as telling him what he needed to do career-wise.
A loud crash on the other side of the hall caught Gray’s attention. In the open ballroom across the way he saw legs. Glorious legs in strappy high heels. The beautiful legs were tangled on the floor and attached to an ass that was just as gorgeous. After taking a closer look, Gray realized that above the amazing ass was an enormous, white light bulb-shaped head with blue googly eyes. It had blonde hair and wore a glittery purple hat. The tangled-up legs and heels were flailing around in a pile of what looked like empty light bulb boxes. Several gentlemen nearby were quick to help Legs get her feet beneath her. From their smiles and laughter he could tell that they were all quite happy to be of assistance. Gray didn’t blame them.
He watched Legs find her balance in those high heels, and with a little wiggle and tug of her skirt she went on her way.
About The Author:
Edie Hart was born in the Northwest suburbs of Chicago, where she now resides with her husband, two children, dog, and three cats. After spending her childhood making up stories in her head, she finally decided to put them on paper. What came of it was her first novella, One Bad Day. Edie is a die-hard romantic and believes that everyone deserves to be loved unconditionally—both in print and real life.
Edie also admits that “Edie Hart” is a pen name and an alter ego to an otherwise boring wife and mother. Edie is 20 pounds lighter, loves to skydive, travels to foreign places, and is a total sex kitten as compared to the uninteresting other half who is none of those things.
In reality the counterpart of Edie is a lackluster 40-something-year-old, whose main goal is to keep The Big One (The Boy) from torturing The Little One (The Girl). This week he hit her in the head with a 12-pack of Juicy Juice. Last week he left ravioli handprints on the back of her white T-shirt. The week before that he told her she was adopted and she believed him.
To learn more about her, and find out what The Big One and The Little One are up to, visit her via her website, Facebook, or Twitter:
Internationally famous fashion photographer, Francesca St. James (Ross’s ex from OPERATION CINDERELLA) gets considerably more than she bargained for when she leaves New York for Los Angeles to join the cast of a newly launched reality TV show as a fashion coach. “Project Cinderella” aims to remake fashion frogs into styling Cinderella princes and princesses. Silicon Valley CEO Contestant Gregory Knickerbocker is a geek with a heart of gold, a six-foot three leanly-muscled hunk in need of a mercy makeover. Fortunately Francesca loves nothing more than a challenge and serving as Greg’s “fashion fairy godmother” promises to be that and then some. Can a pair of vintage Saks Fifth Avenue red slippers help her look beyond Greg’s center-parted hair and gray hoodies to the Prince Charming that lies beneath?
MEET Francesca St. James
Eye Color: Emerald green
Glasses or contacts: Neither
Height: 5 foot 8
Type of body/build: tall & elegant
Skin tone: pale
Skin type: creamy
Shape of face: oval
Distinguishing Marks: none
Predominant feature: eyes
Hair color & type: shoulder-length black-brown waves
Character’s typical hairstyle: chignon
Resembles: Emily Blunt
Physical disabilities: jaded heart J
Favorite Book: SENSE AND SENSIBILITY by Jane Austin
Hometown: London, England
Extremely skilled at: fashion
Worst thing that could happen: wearing navy stockings with black shoes
Rainy day? Hot bath, good book
MEET Gregory Knickerbocker:
Eye Color: deep blue
Glasses or contacts: First glasses, then contacts
Weight: 175, later more
Height: 6 foot plus
Type of body/build: leanly muscled
Skin tone: medium
Shape of face: square-jawed
Distinguishing marks: none
Predominant feature: eyes
Hair color & type: black-brown, thick and straight
Character’s hairstyle: short
Resembles: a young Christopher Reeve
Physical disabilities: fashion disaster J
Favorite Book: THE TIPPING POINT by Malcolm Gladwell
Hometown: San Jose, California
Extremely skilled at: technology
Worst thing that could happen: server crashing
Rainy day: hacking code
I hope readers in search of unusual heroes and heroines will love Francesca and Greg as much as I do. And, if you enjoy THE CINDERELLA MAKEOVER, please check out my previous Suddenly Cinderella releases: OPERATION CINDERELLA (Macie and Ross’s story) and the in-series novella, A CINDERELLA CHRISTMAS CAROL (Starr and Matt’s story).
Hope Tarr is the award-winning author of twenty historical and contemporary romance novels including THE CINDERELLA MAKEOVER, Book #2 in her Suddenly Cinderella Series of contemporary fairy-tale themed romance novels. Hope is also a cofounder and current principal of Lady Jane’s Salon™, New York City’s first, and so far only, monthly romance reading series now in its fifth year with five satellites nationwide. Visit Hope online at www.HopeTarr.com and www.LadyJaneSalonNYC.com as well as on Facebook (www.Facebook.com/HopeC.Tarr.com) and Twitter (@HopeTarr).
Hi and welcome to my blog, Amber Skyze. Please make yourself at home and grab a drink from my hunky cabana boys, Zeke and Jake. Thanks so much for having me here today, Raine.
So tell us a little about yourself. First of all I’m a mother, wife and writer. I’m forced to work a dreaded day job.
To get us started can you tell us a little about what you are working on or have coming out? My newest release is a M/M. Grant the main hero is a detective and he’s on the hunt for a serial killer. He’s also battling the repercussions of coming out at work.
If you could write a warning label for yourself as a person or an author, what would it say? Warning – will love you endlessly unless you cross me and then you better sleep with one eye open.
Do you have any guilty pleasures? Yes, Butterfingers and licorice
Name one thing readers would be surprised to know about you. I’m a survivor of domestic abuse.
If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be? California.
How do you get yourself in the mood to write? If I waited for the mood to strike me I’d never write. LOL
Can you share with us your typical writing day. Is there anything you have to have while writing? I get up before the family and I try to get an hour of writing in. I try again when the baby goes down her for first nap.
Who are some of your favorite authors? I’m a huge Maya Banks fan, I enjoy all of Jayne Rylon’s books and my new writing partner Katalina Leon. I feel blessed to be writing with such an extraordinary writer.
What is in your To Read Pile that you are dying to start or upcoming release you can’t wait for? Oh man, my Kindle is full of books.
Is there something special you do to celebrate when one of your books is released? I used to buy myself a new CD or the hubby would take me out to dinner. Now I’m just boring and don’t really do anything.
Do you have a favorite TV show you can’t miss? I’m currently addicted to Chicago Fire.
If you could date any character from any book, who would it be and why-no it doesn’t have to be from your books? I’d date Nathan Donovan from Splashing Good Time my first EC book. I wrote the book about a guy I once knew. ;)
What is the strangest source of writing inspiration you’ve ever had? Hmmm, nothing yet.
If your muse were to talk behind your back, what secrets would he/she tell? She’s a procrastinator!!!!
Thanks for coming. Is there anything else you want to add?
Thanks so much for allowing me to be here today!
Out to Protect by Amber Skyze
Someone is killing prostitutes and Grant Wesson has been assigned to find out who the killer is. Problem is he just came out to his best friend and partner. Ralph didn’t take it so well, so Grant’s been reassigned to the new kid on the block, Parker Townsend.
Parker is young, sexy and very much in the closet. Grant fights the growing attraction he’s feeling for his new partner, until Parker changes things up. He wants to break the rules and have sex with his new partner.
Against his better judgment, Grant agrees. It’s the hottest sex either of them has ever had, but it’s a distraction. The killer has Grant in his sights. Parker promises to protect him, but it’s his heart that needs protecting.
“I’ve got to be a fucking fool.” He dragged his fingers through his hair, knowing the gelled look was ruined.
“Fool for what?”
Grant spun around, surprised to see Ralph behind him. He hadn’t heard him enter the room. How long had he been standing there? Had he said anything that would reveal what he was about to confess? The air grew heavy; the walls seemed to draw closer. Grant felt a panic attack coming on.
He walked over to the table and took a seat.
“You don’t look so good, partner. Are you sick?”
Was he sick? Possibly.
“Is it hot in here?”
Ralph shrugged. “The air seems to be working.”
Grant struggled to breathe. He slowly took a deep breath.
“Do you need me to call medical? You don’t look so hot. You’re white as a ghost.”
Somehow Grant felt that was an understatement. He felt physically ill. Nausea rolled in his stomach, threatening to charge up and out his mouth.
“I’ll be okay in a minute.” He needed water. “Just give me a sec.”
“Sure.” Ralph took a seat and tapped his hands on the table.
Grant shook his head. Ralph was always a restless person. He tapped his hands on his legs or on the dashboard if he wasn’t driving. It surprised Grant that Ralph wasn’t a beat officer. Walking the streets would give him the opportunity to get the excess energy out.
After a few deep breaths, his nerves started to subside. He had to get this off his chest and tell Ralph the truth. In the end he prayed it would be all right. They were not only partners; they were friends.
Grant slapped the table louder than he expected.
“Shit, if you wanted my attention, you could’ve cleared your throat or something,” Ralph said.
“Now you have my full attention. What’s this meeting all about?”
The time had arrived. Grant had dreaded this moment for the last ten years but knew he couldn’t keep the information from his partner another day.
Here goes nothing.
“I’m gay,” Grant said.
“Ha-ha. What, am I being punked or something?” Ralph looked around the room as if he expected a camera crew to pop out of the corners.
He looked at Ralph, the guy who had protected him many times over the last ten years. The image of Ralph standing over him while he bled from a gunshot wound came to the forefront. Ralph had given him words of encouragement while holding the bleeding wound on Grant’s leg. Ralph had kept Grant calm through the pain, and damn it had been painful. That was the first time he’d been shot. Grant had had a few superficial wounds over the years. Par for the course when one was a police officer. Ralph, on the other hand, had always been the lucky one. He’d never experienced what it felt like to be shot.
Ralph stared at Grant. “What the fuck? Where are the cameras?”
“You’re not being punked. I’m being serious, Ralph.”
“What are you fucking talking about? Are you saying you’ve just discovered you’re gay? ’Cause if that’s what you’re trying to tell me, you’re fucking wrong. I’ve known you all these years, and you ain’t queer.”
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The Captain & The Courtesan by Juliet Chastain
Releasing: January 13th, 2012
Romance, historical regency, Juliet Chastain, romance, erotic romance, captain, courtesan, brothel, regency, historical
Heat Rating: 2
Buy at: http://www.breathlesspress.com/captain-and-courtesan
Against his conscience, Captain Edward Howland buys a night with the enchanting and mysterious masked courtesan, Lady Amelia Kentley, and their evening together becomes far more than either expected.
As her first night as a courtesan approaches, the mysterious masked noblewoman is the talk of London. Impoverished Lady Amelia Kentley, wearing a mask to hide her identity, is resigned to her fate, working in a brothel to support her child and herself. When she meets the kindly and passionate sea Captain Edward Howland, she is shocked at the powerful attraction she feels for him. She hopes that he will be her first paying lover. Dare she dream of more, of running away from her degrading situation with him?
Edward disdains paid-for sex, but he is so enchanted with the masked Lady Amelia that he cannot resist the chance to claim a night’s pleasure with her before he sets sail in the morning. They share hours of overwhelming passion, and a deep affection develops between them. By daybreak, Edward is determined to find a way to rescue her from her fate as a courtesan, but can he do so without besmirching his honor?
Before she entered the parlor in which the gentlemen waited to bid for her favors, Amelia took a glass of spirits, for she could not stop trembling. She had struggled to accept her fate, but she was resigned no longer. Since last night, when she had kissed the new captain, she had been filled with an unreasonable hope that she could not suppress. She warned her heart that a navy man would be unlikely to have the means to outbid Madame’s wealthy aristocratic clientele. And even if tonight were spent in his arms—she seemed unable to keep herself from longing for that outcome with all her heart and soul—in the morning he would sail and be gone from her life. Then she would be available to any man who could pay whatever Madame charged for her.
And yet she hoped. She hoped for one night with the new captain. And, in spite of herself, she dreamed of more.
She entered the parlor on Madame’s arm. Against the dark green walls, the huge lewd paintings in their heavy gold frames appeared to flicker in the light of the gas lamps, as did the gentlemen seated on the damask upholstered sofas and on the fine Chippendale chairs.
Madame led her to a small dais and helped her to step onto it. Amelia wore a pale green dress, cut shockingly low and of fine, almost transparent muslin. She wore no petticoat or stays beneath it, but only a thin shift and a string of fine pearls around her neck.
She counted eleven men. Her heart sank. The captain was not among them.
She took tight hold of Madame’s arm for a moment as she tried to gather her courage. She was glad of the mask, for she felt the blood drain from her face.
She had known she must not hope, but all the same she had anyway. He had awakened her heart and her body and she did not regret it, but now her life as a harlot would be all the more difficult. She looked out at the men and could only dread what lay ahead. If it had not been for her child, she would have wished herself dead.
Each man had a glass of spirits or wine in his hand, and each carried at least five hundred guineas in his waistcoat, more than five times the amount a workingman made in a year. She recognized a few of them, including an elderly man she had met socially in the past before she had been thrown onto the street. She could not help but be shocked to see him here, for she had always thought him the soul of propriety. Several others had sat with her, as had the captain, in this house and had a drink.
The door opened and two more men entered. One wore the navy coat of a seaman and her heart leaped. It was he, the newly made captain.
She almost laughed out loud in joy. And then she wanted to laugh at the irony. Until recently, she was a completely respectable woman, the granddaughter of a viscount and the widow of a baronet. Now she prayed that a man whose name she did not know, and with whom she had spent a mere half hour, would buy the right to bed her in a brothel.