Thursday, October 30, 2014

What Makes a Hero?

Since 9/11, there’s been a trend in the US to call all first responders: police, firefighters, EMTs, and of course military men and women, heroes. There’s no question that they are, based on the simple fact that they put their lives on the line for others. But heroism can have deeper, less obvious meanings as well, and I wanted to show some of those with Sig Nowicki, the hero of Thankfulfor You, the Mr. November story in the Calendar Men series.
Sig is a disabled veteran, returning home with a bad leg, missing fingers, a scarred face and a missing eye. That might sound like overkill for the hero (there’s that word again) of a romance novel, but Sig manages to work with his scars. That’s every bit as much heroism as the fact that he was wounded saving a fellow soldier. He still has insecurities, of course, but he doesn’t let himself hide from the world. He works on rebuilding his life every single day.
In Elsie Jordan, pet shop owner, Sig recognizes a fellow wounded soul, even though all of her scars are on the inside. Even though he’s desperately attracted to Elsie, he also wants to help her work through her issues, even if it means giving her up. That’s heroism of a whole different kind. Finally, he works past his own fears and dedicates his time to helping others in bad situations, even agreeing to pose for a benefit calendar. Sig’s not just a military hero.  Although he’s far from perfect, he demonstrates heroism in every aspect of his life. That’s mykind of hero!

Thankful for You releases this Saturday at all major e-tailers. It’is now available for preorder on Amazon, All Romance e-Books, i-Tunes and Kobo.

***
Cindy Spencer Pape firmly believes in happily-ever-after and bringsthat to her writing. Award-winning author of 19 novels and morethan 30 shorter works, Cindy lives in southeast Michigan with herhusband, two sons, granddaughter, and a houseful of pets. When not hard at work writing she can be found dressing up for steampunk parties andRenaissance fairs, or with her nose buried in a book.



Wednesday, October 29, 2014

This Gargoyle Isn’t Your Average Stone Statue

By Jessica E. Subject

Hello my dear readers! Since it’s so close to Halloween, I thought I’d talk about the sexy Gargoyle in my paranormal erotica story, The Power of Three. Gargoyles have been used since medieval times, not only to convey water from cathedrals, but also to frighten the faithful into attending the religious services in the buildings below.
The gargoyle in The Power of Three is much different. Not only is it the kind you would find in a garden, or in your home, but it is also a vessel for the spirit of Oscar, a man cursed by a sorceress to live away from his world, trapped in the statues.
Oscar longs to break free of the stones ornaments, but also yearns to join in the bedroom activities of the young couple who own the gargoyles he’s confined to. One night, while the couple are making love, they knock the statue off the headboard and free Oscar. Not only are they stunned to find a strange man in their bedroom, they are left speechless by his request for a ménage that could possibly send him back to his own world. Will they agree? Will Oscar ever get home?
Where did this idea come from? I was joking around with a good friend of mine who collects gargoyles. I dared to ask the question, what if, and the story idea developed. Through many rounds of revisions, the story developed into what it is today.
So, the next time you see a gargoyle, ask yourself, could there really be someone trapped inside, waiting to be set free?

The Power of Three
F/M/M paranormal erotica
Cursed to live amongst several stone gargoyle statues, Oscar watches a young couple, yearning to participate in their sexual activities. For he has been away from his own lovers for over a year, and longs to touch and be touched again.
When he tumbles off the headboard onto the couple, he is released from the statue but must find a way home. His only thought: a ménage with the man and woman who freed him. But will they try something new to grant him his return passage, or leave him wandering Earth alone?

Available From:

Enjoy an excerpt:

(Caution! Graphic sex)
Oscar groaned as Delayna rubbed her husband’s ass, her signature move in seducing him. Even though Bo feigned sleep, the man’s twitching foot gave him away. Next, she would reach around to grasp his cock, and Oscar held his breath in anticipation of the move.
As her hand rode up Bo’s shaft, Oscar closed his eyes, imagining her fingers tightening ever so gently on him. Just enough to amplify his need. She dragged her thumb up the vein on the underside of his dick. Oh yeah. And then back down. If only….
He didn’t have to worry about going hard; the body he occupied was already made of stone.
The gargoyle statues around Delayna’s house and yard provided several bodies for him to occupy. He moved in spirit from figure to figure, watching her every day, hoping to eventually feel her touch, and Bo’s, too. He watched from the headboard tonight, waiting for the day he’d finally be set free.
She didn’t waste any time with foreplay. No, she’d already fingered herself to orgasm before involving her husband. Even with her small frame, she managed to flip Bo onto his back. She draped her leg across him, straddling his waist, and then eased with a sigh onto his fully engorged pole. Swaying her hips, she ground against him.
“That’s it, Del. Ride me like a fuckin’ cowboy.”
Oh, to be in Bo’s place. But tasting, savoring both of them would be even better. He yearned to stick his dick in someone’s empty mouth or ass. Flesh slapped against flesh. The musky scent of sex wafted into his nostrils, as if he was home with his own lovers.
Shit! Even though he remained as stone, desire rushed through what was left of him, centering in his non-existent groin. He craved a real body so he could stroke himself, get off somehow, and release all his sexual frustration, built up since he’d been cursed to this form, to this place.
Delayna rode Bo harder and harder, making the headboard shake. The banging inched Oscar closer to the edge. The heart he no longer possessed sped up. What would happen if he fell off, broke? Would he return to his world, or would his life be over?
His stone feet teetered on the edge.
“Oh, God, Bo, I’m so close.”
He wanted to revel in her upcoming orgasm, to imagine her pussy squeezing his tool, but he worried too much about his own end. With one final thrust, the headboard slammed the wall and he tumbled off, hitting Bo’s forehead with a thwack then fell to the ground.
Fuck!
Bo hollered, shoved Delayna off him then grabbed Oscar from the floor. “Goddammit. Now I’m going to have a goose egg from a fuckin’ gargoyle.”
Climbing off the bed, she reached for him, but Bo held him high in the air, out of her reach.
“I’m so sorry. Give him here, please.”
A mix of emotions washed across her face, ending with a frown. Was she worried about him or Bo? She reached up for him again, rubbing her sweaty, naked body against her husband’s bare chest.
Oscar forgot his predicament. He longed to be pressed between them, sucking on her perky tits or groping Bo’s big rod. Just a little lower.

Giveaway!
Enter to WIN the digital book THE POWER OF THREE. Simply leave a comment telling me what you collect. Contest is international. Void where prohibited by law. Must be 18 or older to enter. Good luck!

About Jessica E. Subject:
Jessica E. Subject is the author of contemporary and science fiction romance, ranging from sweet to erotica. In her stories, you could meet clones, or a sexy alien or two. You may even be transported to another planet for a romantic rendezvous.
When Jessica isn't reading, writing, or doing dreaded housework, she likes to get out and walk. Fast. But she just may slow down if there is a waterfall nearby.
Jessica lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband and two energetic children. And she loves to hear from her readers. You can find her at jessicasubject.com and on Twitter @jsubject.


Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Tiny Yet Mighty

by V.S. Morgan


        Hunter’s Mark is a retelling of the Grimm tale The Skillful Huntsman. In original story, the huntsman hero meets up with some giants who ask him to shot and kill a tiny dog that guards a palace so they can get to the princess inside. The huntsman kills the dog but decides not to leave the princess to the cruelty of the giants. He tricks and slays them instead. Yay for the princess, boo hiss for the poor dog!
As a doggie mama, there was no way I’d have my hero do this. So I decided to include the dog in my story as a very important character.
Priss was a stray my other hero Casey found and cares for. Priss returns this care with fierce love, loyalty, and protection for his owner. Raised by humans, Casey must suppress his wolf shifter nature. Priss helps Casey keep calm, allowing him to remain in control. While a tiny, white Pomeranian, Priss has a big spirit. Big enough to stand toe-to-toe with a badass wolf shifter assassin.
In addition to the excerpt below, here are a few snippets of Priss in action.
When Hunter drugs and kidnaps his owner:

Peering over his shoulder, he [Hunter] saw the dog lick its owner’s still cheek. 
“Want a treat?” He offered it a piece of Slim Jim. The pooch gave him a “f**k you” look and growled. Not so friendly now. 
He raised his shades and allowed his eyes to shift, his wolf staring down the puff ball. It quivered but didn’t yield. He growled long and low, and the dog barked at him before flashing tiny white teeth. Ballsy little thing. His wolf decided to take a different tack and whined. The pooch moved and let him search the smaller man’s clothing. 
And when his owner has a bad dream:
The young shifter mumbled and thrashed around on the bed. Priss pawed at him and whined, but Little Wolf didn’t wake up. Priss gave him [Hunter] a “fix this, motherf****r” look. Damn, for a prissy little thing, the dog was hardcore.

Curious to know how a boy dog ended up with a girly name? Enter a comment below for a chance to win an ecopy of Hunter’s Mark and find out!

Blurb:
Artist Casey Smith lives a quiet life, under the radar of his enemies, until one fateful night he loses control and the astonishing image of a wolf racing down a suburban street splashes all over social media.
Hunter’s bullet never misses its target. The assassin seeks out and kills his prey with a clear conscience by following two simple rules: 1) Don’t kill innocents 2) Don’t kill shifters. 
Realizing his latest assignment violates those rules, the hunter activates Princess Protocol and the assassin becomes the protector. Red hot attraction flares between the hit man and his former target. Can Hunter resist the sweet shifter in his care?

Friday, October 24, 2014

There's something brewing in the Big Easy

Available HERE
Good October morning to everyone! This morning is an important one for me. You see, while I sit here drinking my coffee, (milk and three sugars) I am a little speechless quite honestly. I wanted to submit to Decadent Publishing for a long time. I read over the submission calls, checked out the cover art, what the quality of the books were, and if my body of work would fit with the authors currently working with publishing house. After doing that for months, I took the leap. My stomach dropped, not because I was rejected, but because I had finally convinced myself I was just as good as any of the authors at Decadent, and I would fit in. (That pep talk wasn’t pretty, FYI)
So, I asked for a fairytale.
I thought it would be the easiest way to introduce myself to the company. I mean, who can’t take a fairytale, add a little flare, retell it, and make it hot? *Raises hand* Oh, I got cocky. Honestly. I told myself no matter what story they gave me, I was going to own it and transform it into a work of art. It would be spicy and sensual. It would have everything the instructions requested and then some. I wanted to wow everyone. I wanted to throw the MS down on the imaginary desk, and yell BAM! Magically, of course, I would get a contract within two days. (I’m ambitious sometimes. What can I say? I’m also ADHD, so that’s where the whole BAM-thing comes from.)
I had this. I told myself that while I waited for the fairytale choice to hit my inbox. No matter what, I was going to rule this story. And then, The Three Black Princesses arrived in my email with the reminder of, ‘you have six months to complete the task.’ (No pressure.) First of all, I had never read this particular Grimm tale, but I figured it’s the Brothers Grimm, what could possibly go wrong?
The Three Black Princesses is a three-paragraph story about a boy who is kidnapped and sent into slavery. His father is given six-hundred dollars for him and he becomes the fishing village’s mayor. Anyway, the boy escapes and heads to an enchanted castle where he meets the three black princesses. They agree to help him get home, but he must promise to help set them free, so they don’t face eternity locked up in castle. The boy agrees, and he’s sent home. While he’s sitting down to dinner, he tells his parents about the princesses and how he plans to help set them free. His mother tells him you shouldn’t do that. In fact you should pour holy water on their cheeks. The women are ‘tricking him.’ So, the boy heads back to the castle and does as his mom says. The princesses scream and cry and tell him they are cursed to stay in the castle for all eternity and while the castle is crumbling, he jumps out the window and breaks his ankle. The end.
My self-confidence took a nose dive. I read this story three times, trying to pick the story out of it. Trying to find my angle. I wrote three plots. I’d get ten thousand words in and it was like walking through sludge. I had huge plot holes and parts just didn’t connect or make sense. So, I went back to the drawing board. Finally when I read the cliff notes on the story (yes, there are some. LOL) I found the plot.
My story is in threes and wholly symbolic. It’s a ménage. I have three bad guys who are dressed in all black. The Three Princesses is a bar in New Orleans. I have Sabine’s father in it, and there is a bad guy who pays the father money for his daughter. The guys, Kyle and Stuart live by the riverfront as well. It’s pieces of the whole. I wanted a story that would quickly grab your attention and hold it as the book played out.
There are several twists and turns throughout the story and a couple of times I surprised myself. In the end, I was proud of the product I sent in. I don’t think I have ever been so anxious about a submission in a long time. Why? Because, I really wanted to write for Decadent Publishing. I wanted to be counted amongst their talented pool of authors and I was little intimidated—which is perfect for how I work.
I have a little bit of a competitive streak. So seeing how great everyone’s books are, or what they’re coming up with, pushes me to be the best writer I can be. So, without further ado, here is the blurb and excerpt from Saving Their Princess. I hope you enjoy it.
Also, I will be giving away a copy of my Beyond Fairytale, as well to one lucky person!

Available at Decadent Publishing and Amazon Pre-Order!

Blurb:
Kidnapped 
Sabine Babineaux, daughter of the mayor of New Orleans and waitress at The Three Princesses bar, is snatched from the street after a late night at work and knocked unconscious. Waking in a cage, Sabine is determined to escape and take the other women in the basement lair with her. 
Stuart Renwick and Kyle Novak, detectives with the New Orleans police department, are assigned a kidnapping case with multiple victims. However, when one of the missing women, Sabine Babineaux, arrives at their precinct, injured and terrified, they take the damsel in distress under their wings and into their home. But the gallant detectives find their princess a big temptation. What will she say when they tell her they like to share? 
Can they work fast enough to find out who the kidnapper is and bring them to justice or will they take more victims or come for Sabine again? 
Will Sabine survive long enough to explore her feelings for both detectives? Or will Stuart and Kyle fall at the hands of her kidnapper?

Excerpt:
Pressing her palm to the wound, she got up and started running again. Sabine could hear the footsteps getting closer to her before another shot rang out. Bystanders turned in her direction, craning their necks to see what the commotion was. An excited thrill rolled through her. Surely someone would come to her rescue. But if she thought the pedestrians walking around her were actually going to step into the fray, she had another thing coming. Sabine came to the lip of the alley as people passed in front of her, not even bothered by her predicament. Others threw her dirty looks, giving her a wide berth. 
In front of her, not more than two hundred feet away, sat a cab by the curb. Behind her, the man’s footsteps grew loud, causing her to cringe at the sound. If she was going to get away, she needed to go now, but the pain was excruciating, and she felt woozy as hell. Each step would take all of her concentration and strength. One more step. You can do this. You can’t go back. Her mental pep talk pushed her on until she was only ten feet from the car. Her hand reached out for the handle, and she pulled it open. Sweet relief filled her. 
Freedom. 
“Police. Please.” She wheezed, leaning awkwardly against the seat. “Please go.” Frantic, she looked up at the man in the driver’s seat. “Please hurry before they take me.” 
“She’s going to get away.” She could hear the goon getting closer to the car, and she broke down crying. The man wasn’t going to move. She was going to be taken back to her hellhole. 
“Please, sir. Help me.” She twisted in the seat and saw how close the men were. “They’ve kidnapped me.” Whatever trance the man had been under broke, and his gaze shifted to hers, widening as he noticed she only wore a bra and panties.. “Thank God.” She sighed. “Police, please.” 
The man blinked several times then stammered. “Y-you need a hospital, not the police.” 
“No! They’ll find me in a hospital. Police! Just take me to any station. I don’t care where.” Sabine lay down on the seat and closed her eyes. The sweet air of the city caressed her, wrapping her in a blanket of comfort. She knew she should be scared by the amount of blood she was losing, but she couldn’t muster the care to worry. She was free; that was all that mattered. 
The cab came to a stop some time later, and she sat up. The world spun on its axis. The sound of bees buzzing filled her ears as she broke out in a cold sweat, and she began to shake violently. Sabine tried in vain to make her body cooperate with her, but it was a no go. Her brain was muddled, and nothing made sense anymore. Not even her body would oblige her and move. 
“Where am I?” Sabine whispered, licking her lips. 
“The lady is right here,” the cabbie said, opening the door. “She’s bleeding and wearing next to nothing.” 
A thread of embarrassment slid through her, but as quickly as it was there, it was gone. “Help me,” she croaked. The world around her was slowly floating away. No matter how much she tried to keep her eyes open, she couldn’t gather the strength needed to do so. 
“I…can’t…go…back.” Unconsciousness, blissful yet scary, drifted around her, cradling her in a void of nothingness. 
“No, you don’t, sweetheart.” A gruff voice called to her, drawing her out of the darkness. “Come back to us.” 
Sabine’s eyes fluttered open then shut again. She didn’t want to open her eyes. The darkness was safe. It was comfortable there. There was no pain. No cages. Freedom lurked in the darkness.

Author Bio:
TL Reeve was born out of a love of family and a bond that became unbreakable. Living in the south, TL misses Los Angeles and will one day return to the beaches of Southern California to ride the waves at Huntington Beach. When not writing something hot and sexy, TL can be found curled up with a good book or working on homework with a cute little pixie. 

Blog: www.tlreevesplace.blogspot.com
Email: authortlreeve@hotmail.com
Twitter: www.twitter.com/tl_reeve
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ tl.reeve2014