Book Blast~Identity Crisis by Grace Marshall

identitycrisisIdentity Crisis by Grace Marshall

Reclusive romance novelist Tess Delaney is the alter ego of Garrett Thorne, bad-boy brother of business tycoon Ellison Thorne. When Tess is nominated for the Golden Kiss Award, Garrett recruits PR specialist, Kendra Davis, to keep his secret and be Tess for the awards despite their mutual animosity. But when Tess is stalked by a rabid fan, an identity crisis is eclipsed by a battle for survival, and Tess Delaney, the woman who doesn’t exist, just might understand Kendra and Garrett’s hearts even better than they do.

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Garrett felt like a naughty teenager as they sneaked out the back door, through the gate of the privacy fence and down the alley. He wore a shapeless track suit with the black hoodie pulled up over his head and a scruffy pair of Converse sneakers that weren’t exactly meant for dancing. And Kendra, well she hardly looked ratty, in his opinion. She wore low rider jeans, and where they weren’t hugging her body like a second skin, they were full of threadbare, flesh revealing holes. The black sweat top she wore was cut short enough to show a tantalizing flash of her navel and hips bones when she moved just right. It slid off one shoulder to reveal the thin lacy strap of a red bra. She wore all of her russet locks tucked up under a leather beret. Her fashion statement was topped off with black ankle boots. She looked very, very dangerous. And hot. Of course she didn’t need to dress the part for either, he thought. He was already certain on both counts.

‘You live a little closer to The Boiling Point than Dee does.’ She took his hand and nodded to where the alley T’ed with the street, and then gave way to the park on the other side. ‘She never goes there, of course. Well she did once, but that was just for Harris, then he hated it.’ She giggled. ‘God I wish I could have been there for that.’

‘Am I going to hate it?’ he asked.

She shook her head. ‘Probably not. You’re much more of a bad boy than Harris is, or is that all an act?’

The long line of shiny chrome Harleys out front of the squat cinder block building gave Garrett the first clue that this was not Dancing with the Stars. Kendra waved them away absently. ‘The Boiling Point’s not really a biker bar, but it’s kind of the warm-up act, I suppose you could say. Lots of bikers start off here before they head on to their usual haunts. Makes for an exciting mix. Later in the night there are almost no bikers. But there are always lots of interesting people.’

Any other time, Garrett would have been up for meeting interesting people, but tonight he couldn’t imagine anyone interesting him more than the woman on his arm. He paid the fee at the door and a surly man the size of small house with fire-engine hair and a scruffy beard stamped their hands with a red ink TBP.

Inside a live band had just begun to play to a full, but not yet crowded house. ‘The place gets raided from time to time,’ Kendra said. ‘I don’t know what all goes on. I just come here because it’s interesting.’

‘A good raid and us carted off to the police station will really give the press something to talk about,’ Garrett observed.

‘Don’t worry,’ she yelled to be heard above the band’s bass-heavy version of Highway to Hell. ‘They just got raided last week. They’ll be good to go for a while now. We can relax and enjoy ourselves.’ She pulled him onto the dance floor. ‘Best dance while there’s room. In a few hours it’ll be a real tit squeeze.’

Kendra Davis was just as stunning dark and dangerous as she was golden and romantic, as she was naked in his kitchen, and she definitely knew how to move on the dance floor. But it made Garrett more than a little nervous that he wasn’t the only one who seemed to be noticing the way the woman could shake her booty. He thought about asking her to try not to draw to much attention to herself, but he wasn’t even sure it was possible for Kendra Davis not to draw attention.

The place smelled of leather and beer, and sweat. Already there was a thick haze of pheromones invisible to the eye, but everyone there breathed them it, gave them off and reveled in the dark anticipation of what the night might bring. The look in Kendra’s eyes was bright and wicked, like she would do anything, try anything, like all the boundaries were suddenly negotiable.

And fuck, as amazing as she was like that, as much as he wanted to lose himself in the place, in the experience, there was no way he could keep from thinking about who might be watching her in that crowd, about who might be waiting for just the perfect opportunity.

As though she were reading his mind, she pulled him to her with a hand curled around his neck and spoke against his ear. ‘Oh would you relax, Garrett. Do you really think this is the kind of hang-out Tess Delaney would frequent?’

Then she slid both arms around his neck and let him pull her into a deep, hungry kiss. When it ended with an aggressive flick of his tongue, she offered a throaty giggle. ‘Marking territory, are we?’ Before he had a chance to respond, she returned the favor, plunging her tongue in deep, and tightening a fist in his hair to pull him closer.

He moved a hand to the small of her back and gave her the full frontal rub-up, enough to be sure she knew she’d gotten his cock’s attention. ‘You see where this is leading if you keep that up?’

She pulled away and gave his crotch some breathing room as the music settled into a heavy metal beat that filled the dance floor with lots of heavily booted bikers and their spandex and leather women. Garrett was surprised to find more than a few men in pressed jeans and designer polo shirts bellied up to the bar in the mix that looked like it was probably mostly low-brow. He wasn’t the only man who looked like he’d just come from a work out at the corner gym and Kendra’s shredded jeans seemed to be the fashion statement of more than a few women among a smattering of Goth and grunge and plain old red-neck jeans and tee-shirts with baseball caps.

With each song the band played, the dance floor became fuller and fuller. The strobe light flashed and the disco ball bathed the floor in sparkles as people rocked and strutted and sweated, and it became more and more difficult to tell who was dancing with whom. Garrett was about to grab Kendra by the hand and reel her back in so they could stay connected when a biker in a ZZ Top tee-shirt that smelled like an ashtray and looked like it might have been painted across his bulging pecs managed to slide in between them, turn his back on Garrett, and focus his full attention on Kendra. And suddenly all Garrett could see was his broad back.

‘Kendra,’ he called, but his voice was drowned out in the roar of Def Leppard. And that might have been okay if the man hadn’t been so fucking big. Kendra was certainly entitled to dance with whomever she liked. But he couldn’t see her. He fucking couldn’t see her! Not even her feet between the man’s shuffling boots. ‘Kendra!’ He called again. Louder this time. That at least got the man’s attention, but when he turned to see what Garrett wanted, and he could see beyond the biker’s bulk, Kendra was not there! The woman the man was dancing with had cropped blonde hair and a leather bustier several sizes too small.

‘Kendra!’ Garrett called out, louder this time, shoving his way past the biker, who pulled the blonde to him protectively. Frantically Garrett scanned the burgeoning crowd on the dance floor, scanned the women with hats. There were cowboy hats, police hats, even a few stocking caps, but there were just too many people, too many lights, too much noise. In his mind he could only think of Razor Sharp’s horrid email and Kendra’s response to it. Why the hell hadn’t he forced the issue? Why the hell hadn’t he made her tell him why she was so upset, made her tell him about the stalker Dee had mentioned. And fuck! Why had he let her talk him into bringing her here?


Grace Marshall lives in South England with her husband and the growing gang of hooligan birds who frequent their feeders. When Grace isn’t busy writing something sexy and romantic, she’s busy digging in her ever-expanding veg garden or walking across the British countryside. She finds inspiration outdoors in nature, and most of her best story ideas come to her while she’s walking or gardening.

Grace is the author of the fast paced, quirky Executive Decisions Trilogy  published by Xcite Romance. The first and second novels in the trilogy are out now.

Grace Marshall’s alter-ego, K D Grace, writes critically acclaimed, best-selling erotic romance. Whether it’s sexy romance or romantic sex, between The Graces, there’s a story for you.

Find Grace here:

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Guest Author HK Carlton

losttime_800Hi and welcome to my blog, H K Carlton. Please make yourself at home and grab a drink from my hunky cabana boys, Zeke and Jake.  

Oh, Hello boys!

To get us started can you tell us a little about what you are working on or have coming out? 

This is a busy few months for me. I have two releases coming out this month and two in April:

Lost Time – erotic time-travel romance – Total-E-Bound

You Found Me – historical romance – MuseItUP Publishing

Streetlight People – ménage short story – Total-E-Bound (available for Pre-order)

The Devil Take You – historical romance – MuseItUp

How would you describe yourself using only five words?  

Mom, sister, writer, dreamer, hopeless romantic


If you could write a warning label for yourself as a person or an author, what would it say? 

I actually have this warning on my blog. I tend to be wordy. Ask my editors.


Do you have any guilty pleasures?  

Mike’s Hard Lemonade


Name one thing readers would be surprised to know about you.  

I like One Direction ( I have a teenage daughter )


If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?  

I’d live in Scotland. But I do love Canada.


How do you get yourself in the mood to write?  

I usually don’t have to get myself there, it’s most likely already going on in my head and I can’t get to the computer or a piece of paper fast enough. Finding the time is another matter.


Can you share with us your typical writing day.  Is there anything you have to have while writing?  

I try to answer e-mails, Tweet, blog and such in the morning. Write or edit in the afternoon, as I try to keep up with my other responsibilities. I also prefer to write at night when things have settled down and there are less distractions. I need coffee and my glasses.


Who are some of your favorite authors?  

I have so many favourite authors. Karen Marie Moning, Janet Chapman, Kinley MacGregor, Judith McNaught, Julie Garwood.


What is in your To Read Pile that you are dying to start or upcoming release you can’t wait for?  

In my To Read Pile is KMM’s ICED. It picks up where the last Fever book ends.


Is there something special you do to celebrate when one of your books is released?  

No, there really isn’t. I still find it hard to believe it, actually.


Do you have a favorite TV show you can’t miss?  

Chicago Fire. Once Upon A Time. Criminal Minds.


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? 

From one of my books, there are two; so far. Niall Lummisden from You Found Me and Gard Marschand from The Devil Take You. Niall because he is the best man ever created even if he is only in my imagination, he will do just about anything for his woman; and Gard because he is the complete opposite, he’s really not a nice guy. But I love him anyway. It’s that classic good guys vs. bad boys thing, I guess.

From books that are not mine, I’d have to go with some of Karen Marie Moning’s creations again. Jericho Barrons, Dageus and Drustan MacKeltar. (Brothers, thank you very much, I’ll take them both) or Adam Black. Oh, the choices.

What is the strangest source of writing inspiration you’ve ever had? 

I was inspired on a rooftop. (And I’m not telling what I was doing up there)

If your muse were to talk behind your back, what secrets would he/she tell?

Hmmm, probably that even though I’m a hopeless romantic and want to believe in love that lasts forever, there’s also a part of me that is never satisfied, and always searching. I guess that’s why I fall in love with almost all of my leading men. Until the next one comes along, that is.

Thanks for coming. Is there anything else you want to add? 

Thank you for having me and thanks for the drink, boys. 

Buy Link Lost Time Total-E-Bound


Amazon US   Amazon Canada    Amazon UK


All Romance Ebooks



losttime_800Lost Time Blurb:

Within this frame, his curse is time…

Hannah Keys thinks she’s setting off on the trip of her dreams, but after one mishap after another—beginning with her best friend abandoning her in the airport and ending with the man of her dreams dead—she’s renaming it the vacation from hell.

When Hannah Keys discovers a four-hundred-year-old portrait in Wales, she is intrigued and somewhat saddened by the handsome Highlander portrayed by the artist’s masterful, lifelike strokes. But when she runs into the majorly hunky model for the painting—in the flesh, in the middle of the night—she learns first-hand all about masterful strokes when she shares a night of medieval passion with him.

Lockhart Munro has been cursed inside the portrait until he meets Hannah Keys. For four hundred years, no one has heard him or seen him, let alone touched him. The one woman who can do all these things may be the key to his long-awaited freedom.

But if Hannah sets Lockhart free from his prison, will she be cursed to spend the rest of her lifetime without him?

Or perhaps freeing Lockhart will be just the beginning…

Lost Time Excerpt: 

Hannah heard it again. A sigh. Her head snapped up, causing pain to burst from behind her eyes. When her vision cleared, she shrieked and scrambled up onto the bed.

There was a man. At least, the portrait of a man.

“Ohh!” she breathed, as she stared at the full-length painting. The figure leaned casually on a sword. The huge frame dominated the whole wall.

Hannah slowly climbed from the bed and approached cautiously, almost waiting for something else to jump out and spook the shit out of her.

“How on earth did I not see this?” she whispered, nearing the image.

He was the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on. His features were perfectly masculine and artfully aristocratic.

His eyes were dark and intense, but the artist had highlighted the inner iris with tiny white strokes, making it seem as if his eyes were lit from within. They sparkled with curiosity as though he were really seeing her. She looked into the dark orbs, holding her breath—transfixed, waiting, watching for them to shift or blink. But, of course, they remained still. She released the breath on a chuckle at her own silliness. What a marvellously talented artist to have made him look so lifelike.

She continued to examine him, noting the thick, dark hair that reached almost to the collar of his crisp-looking white shirt. She wondered if the cut was considered overlong and indecent for that time period. She tried to discern what era he might have been from, but there was nothing in the painting that even hinted at the answer. Hannah almost wished he were real. She longed to run her fingers through his thick mane. Had the artist taken liberties, or could this man have been so flawlessly designed?

“You are gorgeous!” She reached out almost reverently, hesitantly touching his cheek. “How could I have missed you?”

She allowed her eyes to drift over the rest of him. His shoulders were wide. The painter had revealed only a small glimpse of what hinted to be a gloriously muscled chest through the V of the unlaced shirt. His waist was trim but Hannah imagined there lay an amazing six-pack under the loosely tucked garment. Her eyes drifted lower, over the dark pants that covered his thick thighs, down to the calf-high, shiny black boots.

Her focus slowly lifted back over his body, her eyes lingering on his crotch for an overlong moment as she imagined that part of him, too. She didn’t have to be an artisan to imagine in precise proportion to the rest of his size what a delightful handful he might be. She sighed. A girl could dream, couldn’t she?

Hannah realised she was breathing rapidly. Her face was warm. Her breasts tingled. Her body was responding as it would if a real live man had captured her attention, although she couldn’t ever remember having a reaction like this without some kind of stimulation first. She almost wished the swirls of paint were not cool to her touch but warm and giving, like his skin might feel.

She gave herself a mental shake. It was the first time she’d ever been turned on by a painting.

Lost Time Total-E-Bound

Lost Time All Romance Ebooks

Amazon UK

Find the author at:

H K’s Blog




Buy Link You Found Me (historical romance)



VBT Stop/Contest with Donna Gallagher

Cover_lauraslightLaura’s Light by Donna Gallagher

Forty-two- year- old single mother Laura Harris devoted more than half her life to raising her son. She remembered the concept of having sex but it had been aeons since she’s actually been a participant – especially with a real flesh-and-blood partner. But it’s time to reclaim her life. Her son is a man now. And the rising star of the Jets rugby league team. Their future is brighter than ever and, for the first time, financially secure. But Laura is starting to think agreeing to have dinner with Trevor Hughes could be biting off more than she can chew. Not that she can’t see herself taking a nice big chunk from the absolutely gorgeous thirty-four-year-old sports commentator’s rump, he’s one prime piece of masculinity! She just isn’t sure how or when the whole sex thing will become an issue. She can’t even get past the what-to-wear step. Let alone the when-to-take-it-off stage…

Trevor Hughes usually avoids the woman with substance – he has enough of his own demons to deal without trying to care for anyone else. But there’s something about the upbeat, sexy, one-woman-dynamo Laura Harris. The woman is pure sunshine and happiness. And that’s surprising when you look at what life has handed her. Nothing seemed to dampen Laura’s spirits and she quickly becomes someone Trevor needs in his life…Until misunderstandings come between them. Can Trevor put things right?


 Adult Teaser Excerpt:

Trevor locked his knees so as not to crumple to the floor, felt his eyes roll back into his head, and even though he wanted to watch Laura, wanted to watch her mouth ride him, her cheeks hollow as she sucked on him, he couldn’t manage to focus his eyes. His balls tightened—he could feel the impending release about to spurt from him. God, he was about to come quicker than a virgin on prom night and there was nothing that could save him. He could not prolong the inevitable even though he wanted to feel the thrill of Laura’s mouth on him for longer. Let’s see, eternity might be a good start, he thought.

“I’m not going to last—this feels so fucking good, Laura, so fucking fantastic,” he managed to moan. The words were hardly romantic and not nearly deserving of this amazing woman who knelt before him, but they were all he could manage. He would make it up to her later, when he could manage to think with something other than his cock.

The cock that was plunging in and out of her mouth—he felt the head of his shaft bump the back of her throat, felt her fight the gag reflex. She actually swallowed, the sensation mind-blowing. She was blowing his mind and body. Her teeth grazed his cock as she continued her actions, rolling her tongue over the slit in the end of his cock before sucking him back in greedily, all the way until he felt his balls slap her chin.


SBB Laura's Light Banner

Contest Announcement:  

Donna will be awarding a $50 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour.

Follow the tour and comment; the more  comments you leave, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here:

AuthorPicAbout the Author and links:

Sydney-born Donna Gallagher decided at an early age that life needed be tackled head on.

Leaving home at 15 she supported herself through her teen years.

In her twenties she married a professional sportsman, her love of sport — especially rugby league — probably overriding her good sense.

The seven-year marriage was an adventure. There were the emotional ups and downs of having a husband with a public profile in a sometimes glamorous but always high-pressure field. There were always interesting characters to meet and observe and even the opportunity to live for a time in the UK.

Eventually Donna returned home a single woman, but she never lost her passion for watching sport, as well as the people in and around it.

Now happily re-married and with three sons Donna loves coffee mornings with her female friends, sorting through problems from the personal to the international. But she’s on even footing with the keenest man when it comes to watching and talking rugby league.

Donna considers herself something of a black sheep in a family of high achievers. Her brother has a doctorate in mathematics and her sister is a well-known sports journalist.

An avid reader, especially of romance, Donna finally found she couldn’t stop the characters residing in her imagination from spilling onto paper. Naturally rugby league is the backdrop to her League of Love Series, published through UK publisher Total-E-Bound, spicy tales of hunky heroes and spunky heroines overcoming adversity to eventually find true love.

VBT~Minotaur Revisited/Contest

Media Kit Book Cover Conversation with the Minotaur, Part Four By   David Gelber 

(Before his famous speech at the university I sat down with the Minotaur and asked him some questions, topics that are not covered in his speech or his book “Minotaur Revisited”)

Can you tell us anything about your sex life? 

The Minotaur stopped and stroked his chin for a few moments, he started to speak, stopped and then started again. 

No one has ever asked me that before. I’ve not been one to kiss and tell and for the most part there is very little to tell. I was locked away in the Labyrinth at age twelve and spent endless years in solitude. Before the Labyrinth I suppose I was involved in a few childish pranks with the other palace boys. We would spy on the female servants as they bathed or occasionally cavorted with some of the royalty or guards, but I was locked away before I became aware of what sex was.

However, after my escape I made my way to Egypt and was declared Nev, god of the surf, when I emerged from the sea. Well, I was still a very young man at the time, at least when speaking about immortal beings, and I had all the normal appetites one would expect. And, as a god, I was a temptation to everyone. Those Egyptians took every opportunity to mingle with their deities.

They say Solomon had 700 wives and 300 hundred concubines in his life; I had that many in a month. They came to me in every size, shape and combination. I was young and foolish and, as a god, I didn’t think I should refuse any offers. Women came, men came, and some came that I wasn’t sure about. Everyone wanted a part of me.

Why were you so popular? 

Part of it was that they thought I was a god, Nev, god of the surf. But, I think it was because of my tongue.

Did you say tongue?

Yes. Look at this tongue. (He stuck out his big, thick, but surprisingly dexterous tongue) they may have come to be with a god, but they came back to get more of this tongue. The tongue and my horns created lot of possibilities. They certainly didn’t come for any other anatomical parts, which are most decidedly human and far below average.

But, it was all meaningless. After the first few months I grew to hate it. Why? I think it was because not one of my many consorts truly cared. I think in that time I had enough sex for ten lifetimes. In and out, up and down, standing up, sitting down, this way and that, it all became so tiresome. So, I put a stop to it and spent my time on activities which were far more godly: righting wrongs, passing judgment, helping those who were less fortunate. By the time I left Egypt sex was a mere memory and it stayed that way for many, many, many years.

So you became celibate?

Well, sort of. I was turned off to humanity. But I did spend time among the cows, off and on. I guess it’s the bullish part of me that had this attraction for the Elsies. (I think Borden stole Elsie the cow from me.) The feeling however, was not mutual. Look at me. I’m human from the chest down. The Elsies are used to cavorting with stern, virile, amply endowed complete bulls, not a half human, less than average sized mutant. Even though I lived among cows for years, the Elsies never gave me the time of day and the true bulls treated me with nothing but contempt. Talk about sexual frustration.

Celibacy became my norm and I really didn’t mind. And then came Biz, my beloved wife. (His voice became more halting and tears formed in his eyes) She combined the best of everything. She was the wolf-girl in the circus I joined and it was love at first sight. She was beautiful, hairy, shapely, kind, intelligent and we had years of wedded bliss before she passed away. Our sex life was one of true love, which made it passionate and a million times better than all the thousands of encounters I’d had in Egypt.

Since she’s been gone I haven’t been with anyone else. The buffed, waxed, simonized women of today just don’t do anything for me. Give me a woman with some hair and maybe I’ll be interested. But, no one could ever replace my beloved Biz.

Maybe, I’m just getting old.

VBT Minotaur revisted Banner copy

Contest Information:

David will be awarding a $100 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn commenter at the conclusion of the two tours. leave a comment on his stops in the blog tour to be entered.  The more comments you leave, the more chances you have of winning this great prize.  The tour dates can be found here:


VBT Minotaur Revisited Book Cover Banner copyQuint, the Minotaur tells his complete story in “Minotaur Revisited” now available at, on Amazon, Barnes and Noble online and other online sites. Below is an excerpt: 

Finally, we reached the summit and saw Moses sitting in the midst of the light, oblivious to our approach.

“Ahem… cough,” I grunted trying to make our presence known. Moses opened his eyes, scowled, and then smiled. He had aged, his hair was thin and white, and his previously olive-toned skin was now a deeper brown baked into a wrin­kled leathery covering. 

“Y-you shouldn’t be here,” he said in a halting voice. “This is a place for death.”

He wasn’t startled by my appearance until I moved closer. His eyes had grown weak over the years, but when he finally could see me more clearly, he stopped and shouted, “You! …you caused me so much grief, cost the lives of so many of my people! You deserve whatever God delivers.”

“It’s not right that you should be left here alone to die,” I observed.

“Alone? D-do you think I am alone here? L-Look… look around, this is a holy place, God is in this place. Why did you come here; what brought you here? I’m sure it wasn’t to stare at an old man on his deathbed. No, it was because you believed that God was here. I don’t know if you are man or beast; perhaps there is no difference. But it is the man in you that looked up and saw a chance, a chance most men cow­er from. A chance most men have been offered over and over again, but reject over and over and over again. I believe there is some hope for you, Minotaur. As for you, young maiden,” he said, moving closer to Atcha, studying her face, “you will be­come a great servant to Yahweh and one day will stand with Him in Paradise. Now, please, leave an old man in peace, but go with my blessing.”

He laid his hands on both of us and then turned away and sat down as he had been seated before, closed his eyes, and was enveloped by the light, which now grew brighter and brighter. We turned and started to walk away, down the south side of the mountain. As we descended we saw the Israelites crossing the Jordan River, which had stopped flowing and was divided, just as the great Red Sea had been divided forty years before.

Atcha watched them crossing and I could see that she longed to join them, to be part of that new nation that was to rise across the Jordan. I smiled at her and nodded my head towards that throng of humanity and bid her farewell, then I watched her run to the Israelites, confident in the words Moses had spoken, that she would be a great servant of their God. As for me, I felt out of place; I couldn’t join the Israelites nor would it have been proper for me to stay on that moun­tain.

I left Moses and all humans and became a recluse, living alone as I had done years ago, once again it was my choice. Memories of the Labyrinth remained and I hated any spaces that confined. I chose to live in the hills away from all men, traveling throughout the Promised Land, watching the peo­ple grow, love, fight, triumph, and fail. 

Other parts of the “Conversation with the Minotaur can be read at


OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERADavid Gelber, a New York native, is the seventh of nine sons and one of three to pursue medicine. He graduated from Johns Hopkins University in 1980 and went on to graduate medical school in 1984 from the University of Rochester.

He completed his residency at Baylor University Medical Center in Dallas, Texas, followed by three years as attending surgeon at Nassau County Medical Center in Long Island, N.Y. Gelber has since joined Coastal Surgical Group in Houston, Texas.

Gelber has been a surgeon for more than 20 years, but over the last few years he began to pursue his passion for writing, initially with his debut novel, “Future Hope” (Emerald Book Company, January 2010). The novel speculates about future Earth and what the world might have been like if man had not succumbed to temptation in the Garden of Eden. “Joshua and Aaron” is a sequel to “Future Hope” and follows the battle of wills that transpires between unsung hero Joshua Smith and satanic Aaron Diblonski.

Dr. Gelber has added two books about surgery, “Behind the Mask” and “Under the Drapes”, both of which provide the reader with a view of the world of surgery rarely seen by those outside the medical professions.

“Last Light” is an apocalyptic short story which starts off asking the question: “What would happen if nobody ever was sick or injured?”

“Minotaur Revisited” is an entertaining romp through history seen through the eyes of Quint, the famed half bull half man monster of Greek Mythology. 

Gelber was raised in reformed Judaism, but joined the Presbyterian Church 15 years ago. He is married with three children, six dogs and a variety of birds. His interests include horse racing, mechanical Swiss watches and, of course, writing.





Guest Author Day~Layla Pimental


 A Gift From Fate ~ Layna Pimentel


After colliding with a stunning vision in white, retired Staff Sergeant Brent Daniels offers to drive the beautiful stranger to a hotel for the night, but instead discovers he’s with one very lost creature. He’s bewitched by her sinful curves, her dark and mesmerizing eyes, and the pull at his soul with each minute passing. Nevertheless, he can’t shake the feeling she’s hiding something.

Melpomene, daughter of Zeus, finds her handsome rescuer resembles the man who has continuously haunted her dreams. Before long, she’s in his arms, wanting more. Knowing their days are numbered, desperation leads her to reach out for help by an unlikely ally.

Just how far will these two lovers go, and what will they sacrifice to be together?



“My name is Melp—Mel Pomene.” She’d nearly given herself away. Zeus, her father, would have heard had she whispered her name. Her father. Heavens, he’d turn the mortal realm upside down if he suspected she was here. And right now, she desired nothing more than to stay a little longer. With any lucky, I’ll return before he notices.

“Well, Mel, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Your last name is rather unusual. I assume you’re not from these parts?”

His question silenced any thoughts drifting through her mind at that moment. A new kind of tension rose within her. She couldn’t disclose her origins or who she was. Guilt settled in her stomach for leaving her sisters behind, but she wasn’t given a choice. The Fates dropped her here, only mentioning an experience for three days…provided Zeus didn’t find out. Only the Gods knew what he’d do if he found her cavorting around without a proper escort.

“Earth to Mel? Are you all right?”

“Yes, I am. I’m just thinking of home, which is Greece. I’ve come to the United States for an adventure, it would seem.”

He chuckled before she’d finished speaking.

“What is so amusing?”

“The mere mention of seeking adventure after getting lost is rather comical, nothing else, sweetheart.” He removed his right hand from the wheel and petted her knee. The warmth of his hand stirred an unfamiliar emotion within. This was the man from her dream. Those hands had touched parts of her body no mortal would have dared, and here she sat, wishing he’d do more than pat her.




I’m working on the second installment of my Pleasure Garden Follies series, and something super sexy, I hope to announce soon. Make sure to stop by my site for latest updates.



Born and raised in Toronto, Ontario, Layna discovered her love of reading at an early age. When she isn’t devouring salacious romance novels or writing, she enjoys losing herself in researching ancient history and mythology, weaponry, and hiking. She lives in Northern Ontario, with her husband and two daughters.

Layna is a member of the Romance Writers of America, and is a monthly contributor at 69 Shades of Smut. For updates on her upcoming releases, or to leave her a comment, you can find at:







Guest Author Day~Marci Boudreaux

EM_TheRebound (2)When I was first published, I was always a little hesitant to tell people I write erotic fiction. Not because I’m embarrassed or ashamed. Actually, I’m quite proud of my work.  I’m hesitant because I almost always get the same question: How do you find inspiration?

Which, in itself isn’t a bad question, writers get inspired by an immeasurable amount of things—a song, a news story, watching a couple walk down the street.

It’s when the question comes with a smirk and crooked brow that it causes me to heave a sigh of disappointment in the lack of maturity in my fellow man.

There seem to be a few misinterpretations of what I do as an erotic writer, so let me try to clarify some things:

  • Contrary to what I may have written in a book, I have never discreetly taken off my panties and masturbated in public for the sexual gratification of my lover.
  • I don’t write while wearing leather, lace, or latex. Nor do I write in the nude.
  • The only time I will ever flash my tits or spread my legs at the doctor’s office is when it’s required for a medical examination.
  • I don’t carry condoms, lube, handcuffs, or nipple clamps in my purse.
  • I don’t have sex on a whim with whatever man, woman, or mythical creature may be around.
  • I’m not a swinger.
  • I’ve never slept with my boss/professor/neighbor/etc. (any of them).
  • Barely legal males are pretty safe from my overwhelming need to fornicate, even when they are swimming in the pool and their bare rippling chests are reflecting the sun.
  • I don’t fall into the throes of orgasm with every touch.
  • I don’t have sex (oral or otherwise) in movie theaters.
  • I don’t wear stilettos and a French maid outfit while vacuuming.
  • When I eat, I prefer to use a plate and silverware rather than lapping up my dessert off the sweaty six-pack of a man I just met.
  • I never have and never will consider semen a delicious treat or a regular part of my skin care regimen.
  • I don’t wear crotchless panties on the off-chance I may meet some sex starved co-worker in an elevator.

I hate to burst all those bubbles at once, but the truth is I’m actually pretty normal. I usually write in jeans and a tee. I go swimming with my bathing suit on. I cook, clean, and vacuum like everyone else; fully clothed.

I have one lover, my husband, and while we make a point to keep things interesting in the bedroom, what we do is private. I don’t write books about it.

And if I did…I wouldn’t tell you. 😉


EM_TheRebound (2)

The Rebound is available from Liquid Silver Books and has been rated a Top Pick by Night Owl Reviews.

A no strings relationship, the freedom to explore all their wildest fantasies, and walking away when they’re done is all Casi and Conner want from each other. Nothing is taboo . . . except falling in love.


She watched him sit across from her, easing back in the chair in the way that he does when he simply wanted to watch her. “You’re not eating any of this?”

“Not out of a bowl.”

Casi grinned before sticking her finger in the whipped cream and holding it out to him. He leaned forward, sucked it clean, and then fell back again. “How was your day?” she asked, reaching for a button on her blouse.

“Good. Yours?”

“Did you watch me?”

“You know the answer to that by now.”

A smile touched her lips as she opened her shirt. “But I like when you tell me.”

Conner lowered his eyes to her bra, red and embroidered intricately, enticing him to touch it. “I watched you tonight.”

“What did you think?”

“I think that most people would be appalled to know that I jack off watching the news.”

Laughter erupted from her as she tossed her shirt aside. “Yeah, you should probably keep that to yourself.”

When she stood and turned her back to him he reached up, eased the zipper of her skirt down and watched it fall. She kicked it aside as she met his gaze, demanding that he look at her as she released her bra. She dropped it and then slid down her panties and stepped out of them.

She hopped on the table in front of him, put a red stiletto heel on either side of his chair and spread her legs wide. From behind her, she pulled the banana split toward her and laid back. With a spoon, she scooped out a chunk of ice cream and dropped it on her stomach.

Conner grinned, watching her abdomen jerk in response to the cold. The frozen ball settled on her belly button and by the time she dug out toppings, it was starting to melt and run down her sides. He was tempted as hell, but he sat back, watching her create a treat for him.

When she was done, she lifted the cherry from her dessert, and dropped it on the pile of ice cream and whipped topping on her stomach. Looking at him, she smirked. “Bon appétit.”


Author bio:

Emilia Mancini lives with her husband, two children, and their numerous pets. She is a freelance writer appearing monthly in a variety of local magazines as well as a content editor for several small publishing houses.

Romance/erotica is her preferred reading and writing genre because nothing feels better than falling in love with someone new and her husband doesn’t like when she does that in real life.

She is currently working on her MS in Publishing with hopes of someday taking over the world.

She also writes sweet romance under pen Marci Boudreaux.  Visit Marci at





Buy link:









Welcome Victoria Black

HeavenlyRevenge_SMHeavenly Revenge by Victoria Black

An erotic, romantic fantasy

Thank you so much, Raine, for letting me talk about my newest e-book, Heavenly Revenge, which was released Secret Cravings Publishers on 31st January.

I love revenge stories. Any time I see “revenge” in a romance title, I’m there. It’s not because I’m cruel. It’s because I love the yummy conflict the revenge scenario creates. Then there’s the whole enemy/attraction scenario. Oh Yum Yum.

Needless to say, both of these delicious premises are central to Heavenly Revenge.


Here’s a little taste….

“Do I meet with your approval, my pretty little enemy?” He lay down next to her and reached out for the sheet that wrapped around her, slowly drawing it away.

As he circled her nipple with his fingertip, he said softly, “You are my prisoner, Rose. It will be my pleasure to punish you for being such an efficient spy.” He bent his head to her breast and swirled the blade of his tongue around her aureole, before gently flicking her now very erect nipple with the tip. “You will be mine to fuck any time and in any way I choose. Do you understand?”

Rose nodded slowly. Her pelvis ached at his erotic threats.

King Andrejs turned his attention to her other breast, drawing the pink peak into his mouth and licking. He bit down gently. A jolt of excitement shot to her lower belly. She couldn’t prevent her gasp of pleasure, and she felt him smile. When he lifted his head, she saw hard, cold desire reflecting from his dark brown eyes.

She swallowed. His revenge would be no punishment at all.

Victoria Black lives in Queensland, Australia, with her husband, Darryl, and her very disobedient dog, Toby. When she’s not writing sexy romances, Victoria enjoys playing bridge and going to exercise classes (well, it’s the coffee with everyone afterward that she enjoys). Of an evening, she loves eating Darryl’s delicious dinner and drinking a matching wine. You’ll notice food usually makes an appearance in Victoria’s books!

You can purchase Heavenly Revenge from Secret Cravings, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Bookstrand and ARe.

Check out Victoria’s Website and Facebook  page.