Secret Cravings Birthday Blog Hop is coming TOMORROW

Hey guys…quick note that starting tomorrow Secret Cravings is having a blog hop to celebrate their birthday. If you go to you can find out all the participants playing this weekend and the links to where you need to find the pictures hidden in blogs and websites.

Now my picture (below) is hidden somewhere on my website-









You need to find it, mark it down and then go onto the next place on the list.

I am giving away one of my back listed titles as a prize.

it’s pretty easy and hopefully I didn’t make my picture to hard to find. 🙂

No early entries please. It starts Saturday July 21st.




Release Blitz for A Matter of Lust by Lisa Fox


A Matter of Lust Release Blitz


Trask is a lust demon on the hunt for a playmate, a human exceptional enough to sate some of his ravenous hunger. When he finds Rena, he knows that she is the one he must have. He makes it his business to seduce her.

Rena is immediately drawn to Trask. She could easily fall for the dangerously sexy bad boy who makes her scream every time he makes her come, but the problem with bad boys is that they’re actually bad. They break girls’ hearts and hers has been broken too many times already. One more crack might shatter it forever.

Trask claims Rena for his own, but she needs more than just sizzling sex. She wants to trust him, but can they ever share anything more than lust?

An Excerpt From: A MATTER OF LUST

Copyright © LISA FOX, 2012

All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One

The deep, melodic trance music vibrated through Trask’s body as he prowled the crowded dance floor. He was hungry, so very, very hungry, and the time had come for him to find a willing partner for the night. Any one of the mortals undulating around him would have sufficed, but so far none of them appealed to him. The need gnawed at his insides, but he waited, searching for the one. Over his long years among the humans, he’d learned that it always paid to be a little bit discriminating. It made the feast so much more gratifying.

He sidestepped around a young woman, his shoulder accidentally brushing against hers. He felt her body temperature rise as he passed, the lust that had been simmering just below the surface swelling to a fevered pitch within her. She grabbed her companion and kissed him ferociously, shamelessly rubbing herself against him. She wasn’t the only one affected by his presence either. Potent waves of raw sexual energy radiated from him, infecting the air around him, threatening to turn the club into one giant orgy. Trask smiled at the thought.

He cruised the dance floor, reveling in the exquisite thrill of his hunt. Human lust was such a decadent treat, so very different from the desperate lust of the damned in hell, and it filled this ordinarily dull world with brilliant light and added depth to the darkest shadows. He could feel it oozing from the dancers, the men and the women, sweating and panting, touching and grinding, their bodies writhing in time with the music. Tension built in his groin and he welcomed the pure, straining delight.

He stopped suddenly, the prickling at the base of his spine alerting him to the presence of another demon nearby. Not a lust demon like himself, but something similar. Pride maybe, or perhaps wrath? He couldn’t quite get a fix on it. He waited, wondering if it was going to make contact. Often other demons haunting and hunting the human realm wanted to meet, to plot and plan and scheme, to “raise some hell” or whatever, but he got the impression that it was occupied with something else entirely. Which was just fine with him. He’d never been the social sort.

The music changed and a thumping bass beat poured out of the speakers. Trask shook off the psychic residue of the other and worked his way toward the bar. He ordered a bourbon on the rocks and leaned back, happily absorbing the intoxicating atmosphere while scanning the crowd for his potential playmate.

His gaze fell upon a woman on the edge of the dance floor in a short, black dress that hugged every curve of her luscious body. Her violently dyed red hair was piled high on her head and sexy tendrils escaped to frame her heart-shaped face. There was a hint of rosy flush on her smooth, round cheeks and the way her hips swayed to the music made his cock stir.

Trask placed his drink aside and unconsciously ran his tongue over his teeth as he glided toward her. She was tall, probably close to six feet in her heels, but he still had to lean down to whisper close to her ear. “Hello,” he purred, breathing in her clean scent of shampoo and roses and woman.

She turned slowly toward him, her gaze roaming over his face, his body, and he got the distinct impression that she was mentally undressing him. He certainly hoped she was. She obviously liked what she saw because a smile blossomed on her glossy, pink lips. “Hi.”

The instant, piercing sexual tension between them made his blood surge. He reached out with a fine strand of psychic energy and lightly dipped into her primal core. Trask hissed as desire coiled in his groin. She was sweet ambrosia, a succulent feast just waiting to happen and his cock ached to sink inside her, to make her come again and again while he fed on all that glorious lust. “You are very beautiful,” he said, savoring the tiny taste of her fire.

“Uh-huh,” she said, mischief and humor making her eyes sparkle. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Trask laughed. He liked this woman. “I think I might be in love with you,” he said, beginning the game. It was a line that had worked many times before—the humans always seemed enchanted and amused by the concept, but it was a hollow sentiment, something meant to elicit a grin and nothing more. But as the words left his mouth, they felt different this time, almost as if they had…weight.

“Are you sure it’s love you feel?” she asked, a smile dancing along the corners of her mouth. Her eyes flicked down to his crotch. “Or something else entirely?”

“Now I know I’m in love,” he replied, the lust coursing through his veins. She was perfect. Fun. Bold. Smoking hot. And she was going to be his. All night long. He reached out and traced the curve of her cheek with his index finger. Her skin was flawless, warm and silky. “What’s your name?”

She paused and an odd, little smile formed on her lips. “Does it matter?”

Normally it wouldn’t matter—in fact, there was no reason why it should matter, but for some reason it did matter. It mattered a lot. “Yes.”

Her smile changed, softened, and Trask was awestruck by just how simply beautiful she was. “Rena. My name is Rena.”

“Rena.” He liked the way it rolled off his tongue.

“And what about you?” she asked, leaning closer to him. He looked straight down into her very ample cleavage and took his time enjoying that magnificent view. His fingers itched to caress that soft skin, to feel the weight of her full, round breasts in his hands. “Do you have a name? Or should I just call you the sexy Darkman of my dreams?”

“I do like the sound of that.” He wondered if his presence was affecting her, making her more daring than she’d normally be or if this was just her nature. He had the power to inspire humans to say and do outrageous things simply by standing beside them. His gaze touched on her flamboyant red hair and he thought—hoped—that it was her and not a consequence of his influence. “But Trask is so much shorter and to the point.”

“Trask,” she said, and he had to admit, he liked the way his name sounded on her lips. He couldn’t wait to hear her scream it. Her eyes trailed over him, her gaze a provocative caress that sent hot, tingling ripples down his spine. “So, now that you’ve declared your love, what happens next?”

“Oh, you know, the usual.” He caught hold of a loose strand of her hair and twined it around his fingers. The tension between them rocketed up a few notches and he inhaled the essence of her arousal, breathing it deep into his body, relishing the flavor of her. “A whirlwind romance, storybook marriage, honeymoon in Paris.”

“Followed swiftly by a quickie divorce in Mexico, right?”

Her voice was tinged with unmistakable venom and the bitterness sliced through the hazy, plush cloud of their lust. Startled by the mental slap in the face, Trask dropped his hand back to his side. Darkness deepened around him as anger settled in. He did not like this turn of events at all. “What makes you think I’d do anything quick with you?”

“I see,” she said, and he watched her features soften as her mood shifted. Humans were so extraordinarily complex. He didn’t think he’d ever understand their ability to feel so much, so quickly and thoroughly, even when those emotions were completely contradictory. Demons were defined by their desires, embodiments of the thing they hungered after. There was never a reason for a demon to feel anything more than his driving need. Everything else just got in the way of the goal.

Her bitterness ebbed away, gone almost as quickly as it had come, and she favored him with a dazzling, flirtatious smile. “You’re a slow-and-steady kind of guy then?”

“Oh yes,” he said, returning her grin. “And I always win in the end.”

She laughed, a lovely, musical sound that tugged at his insides. She leaned into him, a whisper of space between them and he could feel the heat of her body on his skin. “Hmm,” she said, and bit down on her lower lip. Her fingers flitted over his collarbone. “I do like confidence.”

He caught her hand and brought it to his lips. “Then you’re definitely going to like me.”



About the Author:

World-renowned neurosurgeon, jet fighter pilot, secret member of American royalty, seducer of legions of beautiful, outrageously sexy angels and demons and vampires and werewolves and the occasional pirate, Lisa Fox has done it all…in her own mind. In reality, she can generally be found at her desk with a cup of coffee close at hand. Or maybe a martini. It really depends on the day.

Feedback, comments, opinions, words of wisdom, chocolate cake and the addresses of super hot men are always appreciated and encouraged. Please feel free to contact Lisa any time.



Twitter: @LisaFoxRomance



Welcome Jude Johnson Today

Hi and welcome to my blog, Jude Johnson. Please make yourself at home and grab a drink from my hunky cabana boys, Zeke and Jake.  So tell us a little about yourself. 
Hi boys, and thanks, Raine–but am I limited to simply grabbing a drink? Jake’s got some nice cantaloupes there. Ahem…slices, of course.
I’m a Gemini, Sign of the Twins, so having simultaneous multiple lives is the norm. My day job is as a chiropractic physician in private practice, but I’ve always written stories in my head. I started seriously writing fiction for publication about ten years ago. I adore history and reading about the details of daily life in the past, so historical fiction naturally became the first choice of genre to try. And yes, I’m still in practice full time, so writing is done after everyone’s gone to bed. Insomnia can be a blessing…
So tell us a little about your latest book. What inspired this masterpiece?
My latest–Dragon’s Legacy— is the third in my historical fiction/romance series  about a Welsh immigrant and the Mexican healer he fell in love with in the Arizona Territory.  Book One, Dragon & Hawk, introduced Evan Jones and his brothers who came from Wales to work the copper mines during the 1880s. Each meets a strong but different type of woman, but it’s Evan who goes through hell and back for the mystic healer, Reyna.
Book Two, Out of Forgotten Ashes, picks up their story after their Happily Ever After–as consequences of Evan’s past rise up like phoenixes to not only threaten their marriage, but their lives. 
And just released on July 1 is Dragon’s Legacy, picking up the action in 1904 Tucson as more Anglos moved into the West, bringing their strict morals and racial prejudices with them. Jamie Jones, eldest son of Evan and Reyna, finds himself the target of such bias because he has his mother’s dark skin and blue-black hair. When a beautiful blonde newcomer arrives, he becomes determined to prove his worth by winning her affections. But she has her own agenda, including playing him against another man, Percy Kendall, who has a mysterious connection to the Jones family. Snared in a web of deceit created by their fathers, Jamie and Percy’s lives collide, resulting in revelations that could destroy the entire Jones clan.
If you had any super powers, what would they be and why?
The Super Power to negate calories in one delicious treat per day. Because everything that tastes wonderful is fattening. Imagine a world where you could elevate your mood with chocolate that wouldn’t go to your hips! But it could only be one serving per day; otherwise people like me would forget good nutrition and try to live on chocolate dipped bananas and Crème brûlée.
What genre haven’t you tried yet but want to in the future?
I’d like to write a mystery/thriller with a hint of sarcastic humor that keeps the reader absolutely guessing with a totally unexpected twisted ending.  I try very hard not to telegraph what’s coming, but I find planting those “red herring” clues difficult.
What is one thing readers might be surprised to know about you?
 Hmm… I’ve always wanted to participate in a Demolition Derby where you drive a junky car and smash it into other cars to knock them out. It’s so tempting on the freeway sometimes, but I like my current car too much to chance it. Maybe someday…
If we asked your muse to describe you in three words, what do you think they might say?
 Obsessive, Risqué, Imaginative
What authors can be found in your library of books?
 Again, Gemini, so think Multiple Personality Disorder with this eclectic group: Neil Gaiman, Rhys Bowen, Stephen King, Benjamin Franklin, Ashley Barnard, Sharon Kay Penman, Naomi Novik, M.A. Hutchison, Diana Gabaldon, Carol Costa, Jasper Fforde, C.S. Forester, Ashleen O’Gaea, J.K. Rowling, Patrick O’Brian, and many more.
Have any guilty pleasures you want to share with us?
 Well, it’s rather embarrassing to admit I lovewatching Dancing with the Stars and professional ballroom competitions on PBS.  I’m amazed at the athleticism and the whole notion of dancing with a stranger that way is so sensual and romantic.
Is there anything you’re currently working on that you can give us a taste of?
I’ve been researching a novel based on the true story of a young man who was forced into the British Navy and jumped ship in Boston Harbor. He hid in a cranberry bog until he almost froze to death and was rescued by a young girl from a nearly farm.  I intend to fictionalize it by making him suspected of being a spy–by both sides. Is he a Patriot? Is he a Loyalist? Will the young lady be his salvation–or ultimately turn against him? I’m hoping to keep readers guessing until the end.
What is your favorite way to relax after a hard day working and writing?
Red wine, dark chocolate, and a hot mineral salt bath.

What is one historical figure you would love to chat with and why?
Gosh, there are so many… but I think I’d like to talk with Lord Admiral Horatio Nelson of the British Navy.  What made him such a risk taker–not only in naval tactics but in his personal life? He flaunted an affair with another man’s wife while he himself was married–didn’t he think about how it affected those women? If he had such a dedication to “duty” why didn’t that apply to his marriage vows? And yet, he is one of Britain’s greatest heroes, so I’d like to listen to him tell his versions of what he did at the Battle of the Nile and Trafalgar.
Would you care to mention any upcoming or WIP projects that readers can look forward from you in the future?
I will have a short story coming as part of an anthology, but I’m afraid I’m not permitted to talk about the project more than to say it will be an uplifting read for women of all sizes to learn to love who they truly are.

Out of all your books, do you have a favorite one? If not, then which one is closest to your heart?
My first novel (Dragon & Hawk) was a real labor of love so it’s closest to my heart. But I actually like all the stories I’ve written so far–because if I don’t like them, why should readers? I honestly enjoyed exploring a marriage relationship during the Victorian Era in Out of Forgotten Ashes, and the stupidity of racism and prejudice in Dragon’s Legacy. I also had great fun writing a short fantasy involving the Celtic legend of the selchie (or selkie)–a person who is human on land and a seal in the sea–called Within The Mists.
Thanks for coming. Is there anything else you want to add?
Thank you for having me over, Raine! Ta-ra, Zeke and Jake–and thanks for the raspberry daiquiris. Too yummy!
 To readers I would like to add that if you enjoy my books, please “like” them on Amazon and other sites, and feel free to like my Facebook Fan Page:

The latest releases in the Dragon & Hawk series are:
 Out of Forgotten Ashes
 Dragon’s Legacy
Available from Champagne Books:
As well as Amazon, Barnes & Noble, etc.
Teaser Excerpt for Dragon’s Legacy by Jude Johnson
BLURB for Dragon’s Legacy:
Jamie Jones looks like his Mexican mother and so struggles to find his place in an increasingly Anglo Tucson, Arizona Territory, in 1904. But his stubborn Welsh half is determined to be accepted, so he sets his sights on winning the affection of Miss Iris Crawford, an aloof beauty with motives of her own.
          Percy Kindall lives the life of a privileged rogue in San Diego—until the day of his father’s suicide. Percy’s only clue to motive is a letter sent to a mysterious Mrs. Reyna Jones in Tucson. When he arrives there, he recognizes a kindred spirit in Iris Crawford, and makes clandestine arrangements for their mutual satisfaction.
          Unaware of the avaricious manipulations of Miss Crawford, Jamie and Percy’s lives collide and intertwine in a web of secrets and destiny—a Dragon’s Legacy.
          Jamie looked down Congress Street toward the bank—and suddenly felt woozy, as though a mule had kicked him across the street. Time ceased to flow.
          He knew the moment he saw her she would be his ruin. The swinging skirt captivated him and transformed rational thought into hummingbirds that zipped away into the ether. Only a tiny hatchling of probable calamity remained. He shoved it into a far, dark corner of his mind. He had never seen such a beautiful girl. She might have stepped from the pages of the latest fashion magazines of 1904 with that smart navy gabardine suit. A straw boater, perched jauntily atop a pile of golden hair, barely shaded delicate porcelain skin from the harsh June light. He stared, hypnotized, aware of nothing but the young woman approaching him and the sudden clamor of his heartbeat in his ears. Jingling harnesses and creaking wagons and clopping hooves along Tucson’s busiest street disappeared. The air no longer held the aromas of manure and dust, hot wind no longer stirred his hair. Hundreds of people going about their business, laughing and chatting, no longer registered—only this goddess.
          She strolled toward him with that tantalizing sway, deliberately slow despite the heat, as though the desert reserved its torture for insignificant mortals.
          Her mesmerizing spell did not ensnare Will. His bony elbow jabbed Jamie’s ribs and startled him back to the here and now. “Here comes another fancy-dancy Eastern girl,” Will muttered. “She’ll be a puddle of sweat before she gets up the block. Her nose is already redder’n a cherry. Don’t those people read about Arizona before they come here?”
          Jamie realized he’d been gawking and closed his mouth. He remained silent and touched his Stetson to her as she passed. She stared beyond him—through him. He did not exist. Bitter disappointment welled in his throat. Newcomers from the East, like the New Yorker in the alley, saw his brown skin and blue-black hair and assumed an air of superiority. He knew he favored his Mexican mother in appearance and ignored such bias when he encountered it. But today this girl’s rejection stung deep.
          At the very least the beauty should have nodded politely to Will, who was the mirror image of their Welsh father—Jamie’s height, but pale-skinned with thick, dark curls, high cheekbones, and a prominent jib sail nose. But she did not. Jamie wondered if she avoided eye contact with strangers out of
proper modesty. Yes, that’s it, he decided. She must be a real lady from the East, new in town and not taking any chances of encouraging the wrong sort of attention.
          “What a snob.” William shook his head. “Where do you think she’s from? New York? Baltimore? I’ll bet it’s one of those ‘society’ places like Philadelliyuh.”
          “Philadelphia, Will.” Jamie sighed. Whoever she was continued down Congress toward Main Street, head held high. His heart skipped. Bet she’s going to Steinfeld’s Department Store. That’s our next stop.

Welcome Denise Verrico/Blog Tour Stop with Contest

CONTEST INFORMATION: Denise Verrico is giving away a free ebook of short stories called Annals of the Immortyls to anyone who comments on the first day of the post. Please leave your email address along with your comment to be entered.
The Gentleman Vampire
In my research on vampire legends, I found it curious that while so many vampire myths of the East seem to be centered on a fear of female power, the vampire stories of the West often focus on the male vampire.  The zombie-like revenants of Slavic folklore somehow morphed into the suave and sophisticated “gentleman vampire” of Gothic literature.
The evolution is attributed to the story, The Vampyre, written by John Polidori.  It’s commonly believed that the 19th century English poet, George Gordon, Lord Byron, inspired the depiction of the vampire in this book.  In 1816, Polidori, a recent medical school graduate, accepted a position as Byron’s personal physician and traveled with him to the continent.
Byron was a kind of rock star in his day, known for his scandalous love affairs with both sexes.  He created what is known as the “Byronic hero”, a deeply flawed man given to bouts of melancholy.  Lord Byron, his mistress Claire, the poet Percy Shelley, Mary Shelley and Polidori participated in a contest to write a ghost story.  The most famous of these, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, spawned the genre of science fiction.  Polodori’s tale was most likely begun by Byron, but tossed aside.  In any case, Polidori finished and published it.
While not as well known as Frankenstein’s monster, the compelling vampire, Lord Ruthven, set the stage for vampires such as Count Dracula, Anne Rice’s Louis and Lestat, Barnabas Collins and even Twilight’s Edward Cullen.
Servant of the Goddess by Denise Verrico
Buy at
Can an Immortyl society survive in a modern world?

From the ashes of the first battle of the Immortyl Revolution, vampires Mia Disantini and Kurt Eisen set out to build a new Immortyl society. Trouble arrives in the person of Cedric MacKinnon, a runaway adept of the ancient arts, who brings tidings of upheaval at the chief elder’s court that threatens everything Mia and Kurt have accomplished. Mia finds it hard to resist when Cedric pledges his service and tempts her with the legendary skills he learned as an Immortyl courtesan. Facing opposition from both within and out, Mia begins to doubt Kurt is up to the task of leading their followers to his vision of an Immortyl Utopia. Torn between her loyalty to Kurt and Cedric’s insistence that she is the earthly manifestation of the Goddess Durga and destined to lead, Mia confronts the greatest challenge of her life.

Teaser Excerpt:
Sudden shouts battled against the sound of the wind. I peered down the block. Teen-formed Immortyls, sewer rats, closed a circle around a tall male, who held his hands high above his head. From the direction of the wind, I couldn’t yet ascertain this stranger as mortal or Immortyl. Best to investigate. I ran toward the disturbance, wrapping my fingers around the Glock strapped to my hip.
 A shrill whistle split the air. Two of the sewer rats lunged for the stranger. He crouched and pirouetted on one leg, letting loose a rapid succession of kicks that knocked his attackers sprawling onto the sidewalk. A rat named Tommy growled and launched himself at the stranger. To my amazement, the stranger leapt high into the air and hovered there for a moment like a falcon before lashing out with both feet. Tommy’s head snapped backward, and he flattened against the pavement. The remaining rats hung back.
The slender figure of a boy maybe eighteen or nineteen touched down and crouched again, poised to strike. No mortal could perform such maneuvers with this speed and agility, not to mention almost ballet-like grace. The Immortyl’s face betrayed raw emotion, indicating he was new to the blood, probably not much older than his form suggested. Eamon, the rat pack leader, drew and aimed a pistol at him. The stranger raised his hands above his head once more.
 I gave a sharp whistle for Eamon to stand down. “What’s going on here?”
Eamon lowered the gun and spit on the ground. His forever-twelve-year-old face scrunched up. “We found this one skulking about,” he said. Even after a century and half in New York his speech still gave away his Dublin origins. “Says he’s come from the chief elder’s house.”
 The wind kicked up harder. Long, auburn hair whipped about the newcomer’s face. He shivered, hugging an Indian-styled shirt around him. Traces of black kohl and sienna rouge clung to his eyes and mouth, as if he’d scrubbed the paint off in a hurry. The make-up and impractical clothing pointed to origins more exotic than the russet hair and milky complexion suggested. His story sounded plausible. However, the odds that this kid had escaped the chief elder’s compound near Calcutta and made it all the way to New York on his own were unlikely. No slave had ever left there of his own accord.
Kurt had stood trial at the chief elder’s court for inciting rebellion. He’d told me that the chief, Kalidasa, employed state-of-the-art security, as well as vampire-eating tigers. The place was a veritable fortress. Still, there was always a first time, and this newcomer had held his own against Eamon’s band.
I had to admire the kid for standing up to Eamon and his thugs.
The pack leader and I didn’t care much for one another, but he’d fought for Kurt in our recent war with a rival elder. For political reasons, I forced myself to take a civil tone with him. “Did you bother to ask his business before you ordered an attack?” I called to the newcomer, “You–come here.”
 The boy lowered his hands and slinked forward. I’d never seen a man move quite like this, with delicacy just brushing the feminine, yet suggesting coiled up, sinewy strength like a jungle cat. Instinct prompted my hand to reach for the Glock concealed on my hip. The kid had danger scrawled all over him in big garish letters.
“Is this true?” I asked.
“I ran away from court,” the boy replied, his speech tinged with a Scottish burr. “I’m seeking refuge here.”
The plaintive tone struck a chord in me. I sized him up again. His winsome looks didn’t belong to the usual brand of vampire assassin, but to a household slave chosen for his decorative value. Still, his swift feet could kill if given the chance. Wouldn’t it be just like Giulietta to send death in such an appealing guise?
 “Kurt’s counselor, Chase Powers, can vouch for me,” he continued. “Take me to him.”
 “You know Chase?”
“We met in India during Kurt’s trial. He said I’d be welcome here. Please Miss. You have to believe me. I’ve come such a long way and got nowhere else to go.” Desperation filled the spooky, green eyes. They almost glowed, more like a cat’s than a man’s. “There’s probably a bounty offered for my return by now.”
“What did you do?”
“It’s not what I did. It’s what I am.” He held out his hands. Henna tattoos snaked around the wrists and tops, elaborate whirls and spirals. “The marks of my order. I’m an adept of the ancient arts.”
 He was an adept? I’d always imagined these temple devotees and de facto courtesans as Indian in origin. I gave the boy a closer look. His clothing had seen better days, but the sinuous way he moved made them a fashion statement. You couldn’t deny the perfection of feature and figure required of his order. He stood out from Eamon’s mangy lot like an emerald in a box of Cracker Jacks.
 About the Author:
Denise Verrico is a New Jersey native who grew up in Pennsylvania.  She attended Point Park College in Pittsburgh, where she majored in theatre arts.  For seven seasons she was a member of The Oberon Theatre Ensemble in NYC with whom she acted, directed and wrote plays. Denise has enjoyed vampire stories from the time she was a little girl and a fan of the Dark Shadows television series and Chiller Theater.  She enjoys reading non-fiction and fiction of all kinds, particularly historical fiction, thrillers, sci-fi, fantasy, manga and graphic novels.  Every April through October you can find Denise climbing to heights of four hundred plus feet at speeds exceeding one hundred and twenty miles per hour on her favorite roller coasters.  She currently lives in Ohio with her husband, teenaged son and flock of seven spoiled parrots.
Amazon Page

Guest Author Day with Jenna Jaxon


Hi and welcome to my blog, Jenna Jaxon. Please make yourself at home and grab a drink from my hunky cabana boys, Zeke and Jake.  So tell us a little about yourself.

How much of your personality and life experiences are in your writing?

Thank you, Raine, for having me here today.  And thank you, Jake, I’ll have an iced tea.

I think a fair amount of my personality comes through in my writing, especially my sense of humor.  It’s hard for my characters to not have snappy comebacks or a dry sense of humor.  I have to pull back on that sometimes.  As for life experiences, well of course they say “Write what you know,” so I’d say in some respects I do find ways to get some of my life experiences into my books.  I used to fence in high school and my heroine in Only Scandal Will Do does as well (and much better than I ever did!)

Generally, how long does it take you to write a book?

Wow, that varies so much these days.  The first draft of my first book took 6 months; the second one (Scandal) took 2 months; I just finished one in May that took me 9 months.  It all depends on how much time I can devote to writing vs promoting, job, family.  If I can sit uninterrupted, I could probably turn out a first draft of a novel in a month.


What is your writing routine once you start a book?

I start usually with the inciting incident, the spark of idea that will drive the whole book.  I think about that incident, about the plot points, what needs to happen.  Then, once I’ve got it all  figured out in my head, I make a detailed outline.  From there I sit down, start at Chapter 1, and barrel my way through.  In summer I write from early morning until I have to make dinner.  During the school year, I write whenever I can–early, late, in-between classes.  Once the 1st draft is done, I go back and self-edit.  The I put it up on my crit loop, then revise and send to my betas.


Tell us about your latest release or upcoming release. What inspired it?

My upcoming release, Only Scandal Will Do, is an historical romance set in Georgian England about a woman who is kidnapped, sold in a brothel auction, and subsequently forced to marry her purchaser or be ruined.  The story was inspired by several historical romances with the auction trope:  Tempting Fortune by Jo Beverley, Say You Love Me by Johanna Lindsey, and A Rose in Winter by Kathleen Woodiwiss.  And the forced prostitution incident from The Secret Pearl by Mary Balogh.  And then Duncan and Katarina started yelling at me to start their story NOW. (I was actually writing a different story at the time.)


What are your thoughts on love scenes in romance novels, do you find them difficult to write? 

I actually don’t find them difficult to write and I do like writing them.  I enjoy reading them in my favorite authors, like Lisa Kleypas. So I try to give mine an intensity that will leave the reader, as well as the characters, satisfied. J


What kind of research do you do for your books?

Since I write historical romance, I do a lot of research for my novels.  For Only Scandal Will Do I had to research things like what type of homes were prevalent for the upper classes, what were the fashionable neighborhoods?  What would an 18th century brothel look like?  All manner of clothing had to be researched.  How long it takes to sail from England to Italy.  What kind of ships would be used for such a voyage.  And the language!  You have to research words to make sure they would have been in use during that time period.  And you need to find out what kind of slang would have been used.  It seems overwhelming, but it’s equivalent to world building for other sub-genres, so it is a painstaking process.  But fascinating!  I’ve always loved both history and research.  So I’m in my elements!
What are some of your favorite things or hobbies to do?

My favorite thing other than writing or reading is working in the theatre.  That’s my day job, so I’m usually always doing something that I love.  I also like to travel and go to amusement parks.

Who are some of your other favorite authors and genres to read?

In romance it’s Jo Beverley, Lisa Kleypas, Mary Balogh, Mary Jo Putney.  In horror it’s Stephen King and Dean Koontz.  In historical fiction Phillipa Gregory.  In crime fiction Patricia Cornwell and John Grisham.

Among your own books, have you a favorite?  A favorite hero or heroine?

That’s so hard to say.  But I think, in all honesty, I have to say it’s my first novel, Time Enough to Love and its hero and heroine, Geoffrey and Alyse.  Only Scandal Will Do is close on its heels, though.


Which comes first, the story, the characters or the setting?

Oh, the story always comes first.  Aristotle says that plot is the first element of drama and I have taken him at his word for fiction as well.  I can forgive flaws in characterization if the plot keeps me turning pages.

What part of a book has been the easiest to write?  The hardest?

The beginning, with the inciting incident, is always easiest to write.  I know this from the beginning.  The hardest is probably the middle.  I usually have a clear idea of the ending, but the middle sometimes changes on me and makes it more difficult to keep a smoothly flowing plot.
What are the elements of a great romance for you?

A hero who is strong and selfless, who will do anything for his heroine.  A heroine who has inner strength, a sharp mind, and passion for her hero.

What is the hardest part of writing/the easiest for you?

The hardest part of writing is description.  I hate reading it, hate writing it.  I imagine everything differently when I read anyway.  The easiest part of writing is plotting.  Have plot, will travel.  I love making everything click.


Are you in control of your characters or do they control you?

It’s an uneasy balance.  I know what I want them to do, but sometimes they come up with more interesting actions, so I sort of let them run with it.  I figure if I end up not liking where they’re going, I can always edit it out. LOL


What are some of your current projects?

Right now I’m like an octopus with a different project in each arm.  I’m working on first edits for a contemporary erotic romance, 7 Days of Seduction;I’m also editing a Victorian historical, As Long As You’re Mine, for submission; I’m revising my first historical novel, Time Enough to Love, into a trilogy of novellas–Betrothal, Betrayal, and Beleaguered–for self-publication later this summer; and I’m revising the second book in the Scandal series, Only Marriage Will Do, to submit in early July.


Boxers, briefs, boxerbriefs…. Or commando on a man? Why?

Commando, because you can get right to the point so easily.


What is your strangest habit?

I drink only hot tea in the mornings at home, but only coffee in the morning when I’m at work.


When you looked in the mirror this morning, what was the first thing you thought?

God, I need more sleep.


What is your favorite pizza?

Domino’s pepperoni, mushroom & onion on gluten-free crust.


What is one thing scientists should invent?

A time machine.  It would make historical research so much easier and even more fun!


If you could time travel, where would you go?

Elizabethan England and attend an original production of one of Shakespeare’s plays.


What is your favorite thing about being a writer? 

Being able (hopefully) to draw a response from the audience.  When readers tell me that they cried or laughed at a certain point, that just makes me smile wider!  Like I did my job well.


If I was a first time reader of your books, which one would you recommend I start with and why?

Of the historicals, probably Only Scandal Will Do.  It’s my first full-length novel and the best representation (currently) of my style.  If you like it, you’ll like my other works as well.


What do you hope readers take with them after reading one of your stories?

I hope they take a sense of having been on an adventure ride, with twists and turns and daring escapes, but that they will always make it back safe with a satisfying HEA.


Anything else you want to mention?

Just that Only Scandal Will Do is set to release on July 23, 2012!  Huge release party on Jenna’s Journal at

Blurb for Only Scandal Will Do:

Kidnapped and sold at auction in a London brothel, Lady Katarina Fitzwilliam squelches an undeniable attraction to the masked stranger who purchased her, pits her wits against him, and escapes him and the scandal that would ruin her life.

Unable to resist temptation in a London brothel, Duncan Ferrers, Marquess of Dalbury, purchases a fiery beauty. She claims she’s a lady, but how can she be? No lady of his acquaintance in polite society is anything like her. Then he discovers she is who she says, and that this latest romp has compromised her reputation. He knows how that is. One more scandal and he’ll be cast out of London society, but he needs a wife who’ll provide an heir to carry on his illustrious family’s name. He seeks out Katarina, intending only to scotch the scandal, but instead finds his heart ensnared. He’s betting their future he’ll capture her heart, but does he have what it

takes to win the wager?

WARNING: A blade-wielding heroine who crosses swords with a master of sensuality.


Excerpt from Only Scandal Will Do:

“Lady Katarina,” the marquess said, taking her limp, cold hand. “I have been looking forward to this moment ever since I heard you were in London.”

That voice sent shivers down her spine. She remembered well the arrogance in it when he’d declared himself her master. Soft and silky now, his mouth poised over her hand, and the words sent searing heat that penetrated her long kidskin gloves. Only sheer determination kept her from snatching it out of his grasp, and fear at what might be said if she acted in any way as though she had met this man before. No one must know.

She made herself look at his face, into the dark brown eyes that gleamed with…apprehension? Amusement? Katarina twitched her mouth into what hopefully passed for a smile and said, “I am delighted to make your acquaintance as well, Lord Dalbury. Although I must confess that until just now I had not heard your name.” Although pleased to hear how strong her voice sounded, she feared she might choke on the lies she spouted. Kat slipped her hand from his and a measure of calm returned.

She tried to refrain from looking at the marquess, but he demanded her attention by addressing her again.

“I almost missed the pleasure of making your acquaintance, Lady Katarina. I left the ball just before midnight, but one of my carriage horses came up lame and I returned to ask Braeton for the loan of a replacement. Lady Luck surely smiled on me tonight.” He continued on, disregarding her silence. “I understand from Lord Braeton that you and your brother only arrived from the colonies three months ago, Lady Katarina.”

She found it hard to keep her tone civil. “Yes, my lord. We came to England in early February.” As she had told him before! It helped not to look at his eyes. Instead she fastened her gaze on his cheek. He would likely carry those scars the rest of his life. She hoped it hurt his vanity every time he looked in the mirror.

He apparently saw where her gaze lay, for he ran his finger down the center mark. “Ah, I see you are curious about my wounds.” He shifted his weight slightly, drawing her a little away from the others.

“Is it a war wound, my lord?” she asked, feeling the return of her confidence.

“It is a badge of honor I wear, given to me by a worthy opponent who I underestimated in many ways. I now regret the chance encounter, Lady Katarina.” He lowered his voice. “She did not deserve the treatment she had at my hands. I make my most sincere apology for doubting her words to me.”

Kat stiffened at this offering. How could he stand there and try to apologize so cavalierly in a crowded ballroom? “Whoever she is, then, Lord Dalbury,” she said sweetly, “I hope your opponent is more forgiving than I would be.”


Publisher’s Link:

Only Scandal Will Do releases on July 23, 2012.

Welcome Ella Jade Today


Inspiration Comes in Strange Places…

Where did the idea for Make Me Stay Come from? One night back in January, I couldn’t get the Katy Perry song The One That Got Away out of my head. I was humming it in the shower and bam, the idea for my newest novella hit me.

I hopped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around myself and logged onto my computer as fast as I could. It was one of those moments where I had to get the scene down. It didn’t even matter that I was wet and shivering. It was the first time in my writing journey where I started at the end of the book. The chapter kept playing out in my head, and I knew no matter what happened from the beginning of the story on, I had to end up with what I had just written.

Now, don’t ask me what that song has to do with a BDSM romance, I’m still not sure. But, for whatever reason those lyrics triggered something in my subconscious. The inspiration was so strong that I managed to write Make Me Stay in three days. The story flowed, and the characters cooperated, so I went with it. Make Me Stay is a story about reconnecting with a lost love and finding away to make life work, no matter how crazy it may seem. It’s a love story at the core. I’m really pleased with the final outcome and I can’t wait to share it with all of you.

I’m also in the process of writing a second book called Surrender to Me. This novella will feature the main characters, Cade and Gracie, from Make Me Stay, but Martin Abrams will be the focus. You’ll meet Martin in Make Me Stay. He was one of those characters that wouldn’t leave me, so I gave the sexy Dom his own book.

Here’s a peek into Make Me Stay available now from Beachwalk Press…

Can the sub teach the Dom to play?

Natural submissive Gracie Miller thought she had found her other half in Cade Jameson. Not only did he help her through a difficult time in her life, in the bedroom he brought her more pleasure than she could have ever imagined. They seemed perfect for each other.

Cade knew what he wanted in the bedroom. Gracie brought out his domineering side and ignited his passion. But he feared he was too dominant for this beautiful, naïve girl, who was so young and impressionable, so he ended their relationship.

Two and a half years later, Gracie returns to town a new woman. She had moved to the city and found a “Master” who showed her what she was truly capable of. Now she’s back and wants to show Cade exactly what kind of submissive she could be for him.

But after hearing all that she’s experienced, Cade now wonders if he’s dominant enough to satisfy her. Can he be the man Gracie needs him to be?

Content Warning: graphic sex, BDSM themes




Ten minutes later they were seated at a quaint restaurant in the center of town. Cade had requested a quiet table in the back so they wouldn’t be interrupted. He was confused enough and didn’t need any distractions. Being a well-known businessman, he was always running into people who wanted to have a drink with him. Gracie’s return would probably be the talk of the town in a matter of days.

Once they ordered dinner and the waitress poured their wine he’d had enough small talk. He wanted answers.

“Why did you come back?”

“I told you.” Gracie sipped her wine. “I took a job here.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“Of course not.” She lowered her head.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Just look at me.” He was puzzled over her return and her elusiveness frustrated him.

She quickly raised her gaze, meeting his eyes.

“You walked away from this town without a trace. I don’t believe you would come back after all this time to consult. Something isn’t right.”

“You told me to leave.”

“Me!” He tapped his chest. “I told you to leave me. I never expected you to disappear. I thought I’d know where you were and what you were doing.” Even though he told her to go, he’d always intended to take care of her.

“Without you, there wasn’t anything here for me. You were everything. I had no family. I lived in your house. Where did you expect me to go?”

“We could have figured it out together. I would have made sure you were taken care of.” She’d always been his responsibility and when she left he panicked she’d end up on the street.

“I needed to go. I had to figure out who I was. That’s what you wanted.”

“I wanted you to be happy.”

“I am.” She smiled. “I told you, I met someone who helped me.”

“Then why aren’t you with him?” He didn’t like to think about her with another man. It infuriated him to know someone else touched what was his, even if he did let her go. “Are you running from him? Is that why you’re back here? Do you need my help?”

She laughed. “I could never run from Martin.”

He hated knowing his name. “So, Martin was your boyfriend?”

“Not really.” She took another sip of her wine.

Her mysterious behavior pissed him off. She’d better start talking and fast.

“Your husband?” He felt his blood boil. Could she have gotten married?

“Cade,” she said as she reached for his hand. “I don’t want you to freak, but Martin was my Dom. I was his submissive.”


Thanks so much for joining me today. I love making new friends so please connect with me…





Wicked Wednesday~Playing Jax

Title/Series: Playing Jax – Wylde Shore Series Book 2
Publisher: Siren Publishing
Genre: Romantic Suspense – BDSM
Buy at
Steve Jax buried his heart, along with his soul mate, two years ago. He had his turn in the game of love and it didn’t work out, end of story. His new neighbor might stir certain passions within him, but his dark, kinky desires aren’t the sort of thing a sweet, naïve ex-nun should be exposed to. All he has to do is convince the determined little minx of that?
Rhiannon McCabe has never been in love. She’s hidden under a religious veil since she was eighteen, now everything’s changed. She’s left the church, created a new life, and finally met the only man to ever arouse her sexual nature. Steve might think he doesn’t have the capacity to love her, but she’s determined to convince him otherwise. If love really is a game, then Steve Jax is a prize worth playing for.
Wicked Hot Excerpt:
He slid one hand up her thigh, only to still when he reached between her legs.
“You’re not wearing underpants, sweetheart. Why is that?”
“I was waiting for you to come home. I thought you might like it.” He made a low, growling noise beside her neck as he nuzzled his face into her.
“What does not wearing panties indicate to me, darling? Tell me what you hoped I’d do when I found out.” His fingers slipped between her thighs, and he began to slowly press them into the wetness, circling her clit, exploring the opening he’d liberated just the day before. Rhia arched her body toward him in response and tried to compose the words.
“Sex,” she gasped, as a second finger penetrated her. “I hoped we’d have sex.”
“We’re not going to have sex, Rhia.” She whimpered as he removed his fingers from inside her. “I’m going to show you what happens to naughty girls who walk around without panties on.”
“W-what happens?” She watched as he sucked the juice from her body off his fingers.
“I fuck them senseless.” His lips reclaimed hers, his fingers clamped tight in her hair. His other hand cupped her breast and pinched at the nipple beneath the thin cotton dress she wore. He moved his mouth to her neck, laving his tongue over her flesh, biting her neck, and licking away the sting. She suddenly realized he hadn’t devoured her before, because he was consuming her now.
 “I love this short little summer dress. Do you have more of these?”
“Yes, one more. I have one…why?” She couldn’t think, could barely speak. Why on earth was he asking about her dress?
He didn’t answer her. Instead he kissed her once more, another ravenous kiss that made her moan. She knew he was moving them backward, or forward, she didn’t care. The kiss, combined with his hands roving over her body, disoriented her. The arousal pulsed through her, and moisture spilled between her legs. He could take her anywhere, as long as he kept touching her. Steve lifted her slightly, sliding her onto the dining table. Spreading her legs, he stood in between them. He released her lips, and began to move her away from him, lowering her onto the table.
His eyes, filled with a dazed lust, surely resembled hers. As her back connected with the table, his hands moved to the front of her dress. He ripped it open, buttons flying into the air. She let out a cry of surprise, or was it another moan of delight? How could having her clothes torn be so erotic that her pussy clenched in delight? He sucked one nipple firmly into his mouth, the pull so firm it bordered on pain. He ripped the rest of the dress down the middle until it lay beneath her like a sheet.

Author’s Bio

I live on the fringe of both Sydney and the Southern Highlands in NSW, Australia. I have enjoyed writing throughout different periods of my life, but it is only now that I have the ability to work on it in a full-time capacity. I love the imagery the written word creates in one’s mind and therefore I am an avid reader as well as an author.

At the end of 2010, after many years of working in the “real” world, I finally decided to make writing my career. Finding Angel is my first novel to be published.

I am pleased that I’m finally able to give the characters that swirl around my head on a constant basis the opportunity to put themselves down on paper, and hopefully entertain others as much as they amuse me.

Please visit me at