Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Cougar's Courage--Guest Teresa Noelle Roberts!

Teresa Noelle Roberts is a fellow Samhain author who writes exciting red-hot paranormal romances. When I heard Cougar's Courage had "snarky spirit guides" I hoped she'd share a bit with us. Great news--she's sent not one but two excerpts! The first is today's yummy "technically dressed" kiss :). The second will be posted December 10. Please welcome Teresa!

Thanks for letting me visit your blog. I’m here to celebrate the release of my paranormal erotic romance Cougar’s Courage, the next installment of the Duals and Donovans: the Different series. (It’s book 3, though there are four Duals and Donovans titles out counting this one. Fox’s Folly takes place several years before the numbered books in the series. Don’t worry, it confuses me too!) Duals are shapeshifters, persecuted in the US for their abilities. Donovans are a powerful witch clan. But while Donovans are important secondary characters in this book, the book focuses on another flavor of magic-users: shamans. And unlike witches, shamans don’t have to be human…

Logic says wait. Their bodies scream go. And their spirit guides are playing dirty.

Duals and Donovans: The Different
, Book 3

Toronto cop Cara Many-Winters Mackenzie is still reeling from her fiancĂ©’s murder when her orderly life takes a turn toward the weird, complete with voices in her head and phantom bleeding wounds.

This violent awakening is the rise of her Different gift—a chaotic, Bugs-Bunny-on-crack magic that she must learn to control before it destroys her. There’s only one place to get help: her mother’s ancestral village, and a mentor who seems to have stepped straight out of the smoke of her erotic dreams.

Cougar Dual Jack Long-Claw reluctantly agrees to take Cara under his wing, though he’d much rather take the beautiful city girl into his bed. As he guides her through a crash course in shamanic magic, sparks fly—some sexy, some snarky. But when an ancient enemy attacks the village, they must work together to hone a magical weapon against certain destruction.

Common sense tells them it’s a terrible time to fall in love. Their spirit guides have other ideas. And shamans who don’t listen to their spirit guides are dead shamans…

Warning: Hot shape-shifting feline hero. Strong but shell-shocked heroine. Snarky, meddling spirit guides. And lots and lots of sex: angry sex, crazy sex, magical sex, and just plain sexy sex.

This sexy bit falls shortly after Jack, Cara, and another shapeshifting shaman fought off mysterious creatures that turned out to be loups-garous: sorcerers possessing wolves through a particularly nasty form of magic. Jack and Cara are both in shock.

Jack had dropped the blanket when he bolted for the door. Technically, he was dressed—at least, all the most interesting bits were covered—but the shredded jeans and exploded shirt exposed a lot of velvety bronze skin and sculpted muscle.

Cara tried to look away.

He gently but firmly pushed her face back toward him. “If you want to stare, stare. Lesson number two: denying harmless impulses makes good chaos turn bad.”

“The trick is figuring out which impulses are harmless.”

His hand was burning her face. She’d have a print of Jack’s hand on her jaw before long, from the heat of his touch.

She moved his hand away with her own, the one where she still wore her engagement ring. She tried to focus on the ring. Phil had been dead less than six months. Her body might be ready to jump into something, but it was too soon. Wasn’t it?

The contact surged through her like a jolt of electricity—a clichĂ©, but it seemed appropriate. Every cell in Cara’s body went on alert. She heard distant music. Not angels singing, more like the bom-chicka-bom-bom soundtrack of a vintage porn movie, but it fit the erotic promise in that simple touch that, she suspected, hadn’t been intended to convey more than generic, instinctive flirting.

Moisture gushed between her legs. Her nipples perked painfully.

Her willpower and morals were out drinking whisky until their panties melted, and the pale memory of a dead man looked at the big, handsome, vividly alive man in her company and decided to join willpower and morals at the bar.

“Oh Powers,” Jack whispered, no trace of teasing in his voice now. “Did you feel that too?”

Before she could answer—before she could deny what she certainly shouldn’t be feeling, manage a last-ditch effort not to do something dumb—they were kissing.

Cara was doomed.

No, she’d been doomed even before he wrapped his arms around her, guided her to her feet and pulled her against him with a groan. Doomed before she got a good noseful of his scent, pine and fresh air, wood smoke and, despite being in wordy form, fur. Doomed before his mouth took hers, nothing polite or tender or gentle about it, but sheer, wanton need.

Doomed from the instant she woke to see him sitting next to her bed, looking like where he really belonged was in it. Doomed as soon as she’d laid eyes on him along the road. Doomed perhaps, as soon as she’d had that first erotic dream.

It wasn’t right, she dimly knew, to blame fate or magic or anything other than her own weakness and Jack’s for impulsive behavior. His hands gripped her ass, cocking her hips forward so her heated sex pressed against his rock-hard thigh, while his lips and tongue and even his teeth did things to her mouth that sapped her common sense. The surprising heat of his body embraced her so she felt like she wore his aura of feline and magic. Her body, and perhaps their magic, made the choice for her.
Maybe for him too, because Jack, big, beautiful, arrogant Jack, was trembling against her like a teenage boy in the heat of his first time. His hands shook as they worked their way under her layers of clothing. They were cold on her skin, but only for a second. Then they turned hot, as if leaving trails of fire behind them as they journeyed up her body.

Amazon US/Amazon UK/Kobo/Barnes & Noble Nook/Samhain

Teresa Noelle Roberts started writing stories in kindergarten and she hasn’t stopped yet. A prolific author of short erotica, she’s also a published poet and fantasy writer—but hot paranormals and BDSM-spiced contemporaries are her favorites. She’s hard at work to bring you sexy magic with more Duals and Donovans adventures and getting kinky with hot dominant guys and smart women who submit to them—but not anyone else!—for your reading pleasure.

Teresa is a bit of a crunchy granola girl who enjoys belly dance, yoga, medieval re-creation, playing in the ocean, cooking, and growing more vegetables than she and her husband can possibly eat. She shares her home in southern Massachusetts with her husband, a Leo who works in law enforcement, and two overstuffed cats, who deserve their own shout-out as inspirations for her works. She and her husband often plan vacations around food, history, and/or proximity to water.

Find out more about Teresa at http://www.teresanoelleroberts.com/. Or if you’d rather chat a bit, follow her on Twitter at http://twitter.com/TeresNoeRoberts or become a fan at http://www.facebook.com/AuthorTeresaNoelleRoberts.

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

3T Writing Tidbit

Published since 2009, over the years I've accumulated various items of writing wisdom. The Third Tuesday Writing Tidbit showcases these items in no particular order. Click here to see all 3T Tidbits.

Supporting cast must
  • Add to the story
  • Have a payoff before disappearing

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

French Lessons in Love--Guest Natasha Bond!

Natasha Bond is a wonderful Samhain author I met online and immediately knew I'd love her writing. Then I saw the excerpt she picked and I immediately knew my readers would love it! Check out Dracula :) (And Zorro. Yu-um.) Please welcome Natasha!
I have to admit, I’m not really a fan of traditional ‘Latin’ heroes in contemporary romance. All those Greek, Spanish and Italian billionaires don’t really float my boat... but when it comes to a French guy, now that’s a different matter!
No, make that two French hotties.
The Study in Seduction series features two separate but related books about two brothers, Alex and Olivier Lemaitre who are both into BDSM relationships.  They’re not ‘Doms’ in the traditional sense because they’re not interested in living by the rules and regulations of the whole ‘lifestyle’– as they would very firmly point out to you!
What they are into is having a lot of sexy, kinky fun with partners who feel the same way.
But life’s not that simple is it? Because the two smart and sassy women they encounter, challenge everything they thought they wanted and needed in their lives.
DARK BLUE is the first book in the series and features Alex and Carla – out now. Book 2 is called FRENCH BLUE and is the story of Olivier and Lisa – published in June 2014.
Dark Blue is a Night Owl Top Pick.

The hottest lessons require the strictest discipline…

Study in Seduction, Book 1

Five years after losing her husband, Carla Jonas has finally decided to go for her dreams—all her dreams, from studying literature at Oxford to exploring a secret desire to be dominated and disciplined. A desire she never knew she had until six months ago, when a mysterious masked man pleasured her at a fetish party.

She’s stunned when she meets her new college professor. Not only is the gorgeous French academic, Alex Lemaitre, notoriously strict, this isn’t the first time they’ve met. She’d know that exotic accent anywhere—he’s her masked lover. Except he won’t even admit he was there that night.

There’s no mistaking the sexual attraction smoldering between them, and when he issues her a challenge, she’s more than up for it. Even when his unique tutoring methods drag her far beyond her comfort zone.

But as he leads her on a journey of sensual discovery, she’s not sure if any degree of submission will find its way into his guarded heart, or if she’ll end up with her own heart broken. 

Product Warnings
Contains an intense relationship between a hot French professor and a smart woman who knows what she wants from him. Also features desktop discipline, fantasies fulfilled, secrets revealed, and motorbike sex.  

Enjoy this excerpt from Dark Blue!

Copyright © 2013 Natasha Bond
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

Carla Jonas set one foot in the drawing room of the swanky Victorian terrace and knew she’d made a huge mistake. She’d promised herself she would give the party a good hour before she decided whether to stay or not.

She’d given it five minutes and was ready to bail out.

Despite the magnificent chandelier suspended from the ceiling, the room was lit only by candlelight. Nonetheless, Carla could see all she ever wanted to.

On a satin couch, a chubby man in hot pants and a dog collar was feeding grapes to a woman in a latex catsuit. Over by the fireplace, a bearded nun flicked a rubber flogger at the rear of a matronly lady, and the tangle of limbs in a dark corner told her that at least three people, all naked except for their masks, were getting to know each other very well indeed.

Carla hiked up the front of her velvet basque for the umpteenth time. She’d worked hard to keep her figure, but the leather trousers that were comfortable a decade ago required a shoehorn to get into and out of. Her heels, an impulse sale purchase from a shop aimed at girls half her age, were killing her. As for the silver mask, a relic from a New Year’s Eve do, it had cut her peripheral vision to almost zero.

Which was why she felt rather than heard the bald man who’d appeared at her side. Mainly because he’d greeted her with a heavy slap across her behind.


Two eyes peered out from a Dracula mask, and he swished a black cape that Carla suspected had come from his kids’ Halloween box.

“Well, hello, you. Are you ready to play?” His attempt at a sexy growl sounded more like indigestion.

“Um…I’m not sure.”

Dracula grasped her butt cheek. “Of course you are.”

“Ow!” Carla shot backwards out of reach. “I’d really rather you didn’t do that.”

“Oh, we are a skittish little thing, aren’t we? This is a fetish party, love. What did you expect? Look around you.”

She had. Too much. Glancing at the panting, giggling mass of people of all ages, shapes and sizes in various states of fancy dress and fancy undress, she just felt ridiculous.

Dracula clamped his fingers round her wrist, and Carla wrenched her arm away. This party might have been some people’s wildest dreams come true. Fine. She now knew it wasn’t hers.

“Actually, I was just on my way out. I really don’t think this is me.”

He waggled eyebrows that reminded Carla of caterpillars. “Then why are you here, you naughty little minx?”

Carla gagged as he ran a fat finger down her cleavage. In any other situation, she’d have kicked him in the nuts and called for help. Not in here. Hitting Dracula in the balls might save her from getting pawed again, but there was no way she wanted to draw any attention to herself. A dignified exit was the best she could hope for now.

“You know, I don’t really know why I’m here, and I’m not sure I should be. In fact, this has probably been one of the biggest mistakes of my life.”

Dracula’s pudgy claw clamped down on her wrist.

Stop right there.

Another man appeared in Carla’s vision. She had to crane her neck to take in all of him, and what she did see was dressed from head to toe in black—boots, jeans and silk shirt. His thick, dark hair was slicked back from a tanned forehead, his eyes obscured by a black silk mask.

Dracula squared up to the new man. “What’s it got to do with you, pal?”

“A lot. The lady is with me.”

That accent… It was perfect English with a hint of something more exotic. An image slid into her mind and made her want to giggle. He was the man in the mask. Zorro.

“So why don’t you just leave us to it, Dracula?”

Carla made to protest, then clamped her lips together. While Zorro and Dracula beat the crap out of each other, she could quietly slip away.

“You don’t bring your own food to this kind of party, mate, and even if you do, it’s share and share alike around here,” said Dracula.

“Firstly, I’m not your mate, and second, I never share.” Zorro sneered and very beautifully, Carla decided, transfixed by his full, sensual lips. He hadn’t resorted to silly gear either, just what he’d found in his closet, by the look of it. Wow. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted this kind of scene either and was exploring or curious like her.

Dracula stepped closer until he was face-to-chest with Zorro. “Then you shouldn’t be here.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t and neither should my girlfriend. We’re both leaving.”

Carla turned her back and headed for the door. Before she knew it, Zorro’s arm was at her elbow, propelling her out onto the landing. She shook off his arm. Shit. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. But what a fire, her wicked side whispered. Although he made no attempt to touch her again, his footsteps followed her as she hobbled down the marble staircase that led to the foyer.

“Please don’t come after me. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself,” she said, making it into the foyer without breaking her ankle.

“I’m sure you are. My question is, what on earth are you doing here?”

She turned, one hand on the polished balustrade to steady herself. What was she doing here? It was a question she’d asked herself ever since she’d managed to get an invite to this fetish party. It had been on her list of Mad Things to Do since her husband, Stephen, had died four years previously, along with giving up her job and using Stephen’s inheritance to go to university. In fact, it was only in the past few weeks that she’d finally found the courage to embrace the desires she’d pushed into the darkest corners of her subconscious while her husband was alive—and that afterwards she’d been too crushed by grief and betrayal to even contemplate.

This party was meant to be her first step, a safe, toe-in-the-water adventure suggested by a friend of a former work colleague.

She fished in her bag for her mobile. “I have no idea, and right now I’m leaving.”

Zorro sighed deeply, causing Carla to look at him more closely. His eyes were darkest caramel, glinting in the flickering candlelight. “Yes. I’m guessing we both thought this was a good idea at the time,” he said.

Sparks flew between them, or at least they flew from her to him. Even with the mask obscuring the top half of his face, she could tell he was sinfully gorgeous, and as for that accent, it made her want to drool. She couldn’t place it, but, judging by the tanned hand, she guessed he was at least partly Mediterranean. Automatically, she checked out his ring finger. There was no pale band where a ring might have been, though that didn’t mean he was single. She just couldn’t bear to hook up with a man prepared to hurt his partner the way that Stephen had done to her.

Down here in the hall, the situation had started to edge back into her comfort zone, and she smiled. “A friend of a friend I used to work with mentioned this place to me; now I wish she hadn’t. What about you?”

“Something like that… I can see you don’t belong here. Neither of us does.”

Though he hadn’t so much as touched her, the intense look he gave her reached out and caressed her whole body. She felt as if she had been stripped naked by his words. You don’t belong here. Neither of us does. The party had been a disaster, but meeting this man might be fate. She’d never felt such a powerful and instant attraction to a man before, not even with Stephen. Was this the moment when she would finally dare to take a chance? With this exotic stranger?

Amazon B Samhain 
Natasha Bond is the pen name of a multi award-winning author of hot and erotic romance. She lives in England with her husband, Mr Bond.


Thursday, November 7, 2013

My Author Tool Bag

Introverts can thrive. Here are some tips, to CIOs but they apply to writers too. From my husband Gregg.


My Author Tool Bag features sites I use in writing, editing, and marketing. It's stuff I've found online. The usual caveats apply--no recommendations either expressed or implied, don't click on blind links, have a good antivirus, etc. You know the drill.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

November 1T Olio

Cover reveal! Just in time for the holidays, I'm re-releasing the holiday honeymoon short stories. Releasing later this month. Multi-author release party to follow. Watch for news.

Biting Holiday Honeymoons

That special night for Nixie and Elena each with their master vampire is interrupted by Dracula and Santa Vamp.

Short-shorts Biting Halloween (originally Biting Dracula) and Biting Christmas (originally A Biting Christmas Special) updated and expanded.

Biting Christmas—Nixie and Julian slide into a hot-tub honeymoon, but things turn nasty when Santa Vamp and Mrs. Claus show up.

Biting Halloween—Elena and Bo's honeymoon in the Dells is derailed when they get run off the road by a vampire. They chase him, only to find out Dracula—the real Dracula—is on the loose. Introduces Glynn Rhys-Jenkins from Biting Oz.

Warning: These titles contain vampires. Fighting, biting, loving vampires. And adult couples trying to have sexy times on their wedding nights. Explicit language. Slang guide included.

Thanks to Tibbs Design for the wonderful cover!