Guest Author & Giveaway: Sabrina York

Please keep reading for info on my contest: Win a sexy pair of rhinestone studded handcuffs. You know you want them!

Thanks so much to Mel, one of my favorite writers, for giving me a forum to babble endlessly about myself. Sigh. It is, after all, one of the greatest pleasures of my life next to cheesecake. And writing about strong, sexy, dominant men.

If you’ve read any of Mel’s books (and who hasn’t) you know she leans toward dominant men. That’s probably why I enjoy her books so much. I tend to lean toward dominant men as well. When I get the chance, I lean on them.

No great hairy surprise, then, that they keep popping up in my manuscripts. My debut novel, Adam’s Obsession, exploded into the world to rave reviews. My readers love his dark, driven domination of his online sub, WildKat, and thrilled when Adam discovered that his sexy chat room plaything was actually his buttoned up co-worker. His seduction of her was scorching. Melted ice cubes all over the place.

I was flooded with requests for more.

Fortunately for me (and my e-mail inbox!) Adam’s brother Tristan was ready to release.

Oh dear. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.

Aw hell. Of course I did. This is erotica after all.

Tristan’s Temptation, the second book in the Trillo Brothers duet is now available from Ellora’s Cave. From those of you who have read Adam’s Obsession, you will be delighted to see the old crew back together. Including your favorite and mine, Jack Maris. And yes, to forestall another flood of emails, Jack is getting his own story and yes, he will be punished.

Here is a taste of Tristan:

Tristan Trillo has one steadfast rule: Thou Shalt Not Fish in the Company Pond. That puts his sexy secretary, Shannon Weiss, firmly out of reach. But when Shannon discovers the depth of his desire for her, she vows to seduce him.

After a blazing, illicit tryst, Tristan insists that ‘they can never do this again.’ So Shannon, ever the obedient assistant, makes certain the next time, they do something completely different.

Poor Tristan is a man trapped between his steadfast rule and a burning passion. A rock, if you will, and a very hard place. 

An Irresistible Temptation…

It was nearly ten that night when he finally broke down and called her. He used the phone, because they’d already done the computer thing, and he’d insisted that couldn’t happen again. The phone, for some reason, he could justify.

It took her a moment to pick up, though he knew she was home. He could see the light streaming softly through her windows as he stood on the bluff overlooking her house.

“Hello?” Her voice was soft, watery. Like she’d been crying.

“Shannon?”

“Tristan.” She fairly breathed his name.

“Are you all right?”

She sniffled. “Oh yeah. I was just, um, watching a movie. How are you?”

“I’m… good.” It was a lie. He was hungry and antsy and annoyed. “I’ve been thinking about you.” Like incessantly.

“Have you?” Her sniffles seemed to have cleared up. He watched as she stepped out onto the patio, wearing a terrycloth robe, cell phone in hand and looked up at his house. He sketched a wave.

“Yes. Have you been thinking about me?”

“A little.” He heard the smile in her voice.

“Just a little?”

“Well. Okay. A lot.” He watched as she sat on a lounge chair and pulled a blanket over her lower body. It was a cool night and her legs were bare.

“Did you just get out of the shower?” Something started to simmer in his groin.

“The bath.”

He groaned at the vision her words created in his head. “Did you have bubbles?”

“Not tonight. But I could do that, if it would interest you. I’d let you watch.”

“Would you?” He liked that idea. He liked it very much.

“Did you touch yourself while you were in the bath?”

She chortled. “Of course, Tristan. But do you know what?”

“What?” He was breathless with curiosity.

“I’m touching myself right now.”

“What!” He nearly dropped his cell over the cliff. Jesus. There. On the balcony. Outside!

“Oh yeah.” She moaned deep and low. He swore he could see her fingers undulating inside that robe, under the blanket, a quarter mile away. In the shadows.

“Shannon, Jesus. You’re killing me.”

She didn’t reply, but he watched as her knees rose to points in the distance as she shifted her body. Anyone else watching would have no idea that the woman relaxing on the lounger was slipping her fingers deep inside her body, but Tristan knew. He knew with a visceral jolt to his solar plexus as he heard her groan, the sharp gasps and the tiny little whimpers of pleasure. “Hell.” He squinted his eyes in a vain attempt to see her better. There in the dark. A quarter mile away.

“Oh yes.” Her voice was like velvet. “I’m so wet for you, Tristan. I’ve been thinking about you all day and I want you in me sooo bad.”

“Do you?” Hell. He wanted that too. More than fucking anything.

“Mmm. Do you know how hard my little nub is? It’s like a stone. So hard. So swollen. It feels so good when I touch it. I wish you could touch it. I wish you could lick it. I wish…”

But Shannon was talking to herself. Tristan had severed the connection and was heading for the door, his car keys and his hard on making twin bulges in his jeans.

If a little playful BDSM makes you hot, you’ll enjoy the scene where Tristan bends Shannon over his lap and paddles her bottom. And don’t miss their visit to the Pleasure Palace where Tristan ties Shannon to a punishment chair and ruthlessly torments her with a feather.

Mmmm. 

My Contest: Because Who Can’t Use a Spare Pair of Sparkly Handcuffs?

In honor of Adam’s Obsession and Tristan’s Temptation and Pushing her Buttons (coming soon from Ellora’s Cave)—all of which feature light and playful BDSM or, as we call it on Goodreads, Sugarkink, I have a really fun new contest for a pair of sexy rhinestone handcuffs. All you need to do to enter to win is subscribe to my Hotsheet (for info on new contests & releases). There is only one entry per person, but you can earn more entries by referring your friends to www.SabrinaYork.com. For each friend that signs up for the newsletter, you earn another entry, but they must tell me you referred them. If you have already subscribed to the newsletter, you are automatically entered. Anyone can enter, as long as they are 18+.

The drawing date is September 1^st. To assure there is fairness in the drawing, I leave the room and let the one person on the planet who could truly care less about anything in my life draw the winner. Teenage sons: Useful at last.

Connect with Sabrina!

I love to hear from readers. You can find me on Twitter at @sabrina_york or on Facebook. If you’re feeling brave, check out my naughty postings (definitely NSFW) on Pintrest. Of course, you can always contact me through my webpage at www.SabrinaYork.com.

Here’s wishing you a wonderful summer filled with sexy dominant heroes who fulfill your every fantasy!

Sabrina

Guest Author & Giveaway: Cornelia Amiri

Dance of the Vampres by Cornelia Amiri

The culture of the ancient Celts and the mist and magic of Wales, Scotland, and Ireland fascinates me. The paranormal beliefs in Celtic mythology inspire me. I’ve always seen seductive blood suckers such as vampires as more feminine than masculine, but in the old horror movies they are mainly men. Yet the Celtic fey vampiric creatures are all women, which makes more sense to me. 

I am intrigued by folk takes of a type of Celtic vampiric fey, the Scottish baobhan sith (baa'-van shee), who wear green dresses and in some legends have goat hooves for feet. They are also called dancing vampires. The gorgeous temptresses appear before their human victims, usually young men coming from the local pub late at night. Clad in scanty, green silk dresses displaying their shapely, sensuous bodies they entice these stumbling men to dance with them. Burning with desire for the hot embrace of a seductress’s slender arms and the softness of a dancer’s supple thigh, the men enjoy dancing with the baobhan sith, at first. Once the men grow exhausted of the nonstop dancing, the baobhan sith strike. Without warning, their long nails transform into talons of death, to rip the flesh of their victims and drink of the crimson stream. They don’t have fangs, their nails extend like claws and they use them as a deadly weapon. 

Some of the other ways Celtic vampires differ from their more traditional, fang growing counterparts is they don’t turn mortals and no one stakes them through the heart. With the baobhan sith it’s all about the cairn. When a stone in a cairn is overturn, the baobhan sith are able to pass through to our realm. To get rid of them just stack the stones back on the cairn and they cannot leave their fey realm underhill. 

Of course I thought what a great character for an erotica paranormal romance and I wrote a quickie for Ellora’s Cave with a baobhan sith as the heroine, Dance of the Vampires. 

I have a blurb and excerpt of Dance of the Vampires below. I recently signed a contract with Ellora’s cave for a quickie sequel to Dance of the Vampires, which is titled Vampire Highland Fling. When I get a release date I’ll be sure to notify everyone with a tweet and a status update through facebook and twitter.   

Blurb: 

One of Ian’s six brothers kick over the stones of an ancient cairn, unknowingly freeing Sorcha and her six sisters from underhill. The seven handsome Scots are enchanted by the voluptuous temptresses until they turn on the men. Ian captures Sorcha, giving his brothers a chance to escape. With the dark fey woman still in his grasp, Ian is saved by the rising sun.

Her sisters vanish with the light of dawn and Sorcha is trapped in the mortal realm. The seductress can’t resist Ian’s attentions as he stirs throbbing urges she’s never felt before. Ian is bewitched by the wild delights offered by this vampire siren. He can’t get enough of her. Still, her wicked sisters and his highland brothers want nothing more than to attack and kill each other. Will Sorcha and Ian’s sizzling passion prove strong enough to overcome the differences between the dark fey and humans?

Excerpt:

Ian wobbled out the door of the pub ahead of his six brothers. Focusing as hard as he could, pushing one foot in front of the other, he stumbled across a field in the moonlight. A clump of gorse and heather brushed against his jeans.

"Brother, be careful not to step on a thistle in the dark," Lachlan yelled in slurred speech.

"I have my boots on," Ian snapped.

"Are you sure, little brother?" Malcolm, the oldest, called out. "You usually run barefoot and cry like a girl when you get a thorn in your foot."

"I was five years old the last time that happened." Tired of the lot of them, he stomped ahead. "I'd go off by myself and leave all of you here, but someone has to lead you home."

Well past midnight, silence engulfed the field until Calin burst out laughing and couldn't stop.

"Shut up," Angus, the middle brother, yelled.

"He's hammered." Errol nodded his head toward him. "He cannot help it."

"Well, I do not know what's so funny or why we had to leave right when I spotted the pretty women in the pub."

Tavish kicked a stone with his foot as he tromped through the grass with his brothers.

"Because we are all drunk." Lachlan's body wavered, leaning forward then back. "That is why the lassies started looking so bonny to you. Those were the same ones you called old and ugly when they first came in, you bampot."

"They were old, that was Liam's mother and aunt." Angus grabbed Tavish's head and jostled it back and forth. He ducked out of Angus' way.

"Ooch!" Ian jumped back.

"What is wrong with you?" Malcolm set his hand on his hip.

Ian pointed to the ancient mound of stones caked over with dirt and grass. "I almost stepped on a fairy mound." His stomach knotted.

"Brother, are you afraid of a pile of old stones?" Calin threw his head back and rocked with laughter.

"It's a cairn." Ian's heart still thudded from the near miss. "Any who disturb it will be cursed."

"I dare you to knock it over." Errol crossed his arms over his chest.

Ian stepped back, a horrified look on his handsome face. "I will not."

"I will." With long, sure strides, Tavish stepped toward the ancient gravesite.

"Do not do it." Ian's belly clenched even tighter, until he felt sharp jabs of pain.

Before the other six could stop him, Tavish drew back his foot and crashed it into the sacred cairn with a hard kick. A loud, sharp gasp from each of his brothers hung in the air. One lone stone rolled free of the mound.

Malcolm's mouth dropped open. "You disturbed the fey."

"You've done it now." Lachlan stepped back, attempting to separate himself from the sacrilege.

"He dared me." Tavish pointed at Errol. "I had to do it, now didn't I?"

"Errol's a turnip-headed bampot," Calin shouted. "You too, Tavish."

"I do not like it." Ian shook his head. "It's sacred. It's cursed." The knot in his stomach froze, growing as cold as ice.

"This is bad." Angus shook his head.

"Let's keep walking." Calin slid his foot forward with a confident stride.

Malcolm bobbed his head. "We should hurry home before something happens."

"We are," Errol snapped. "We're in this field taking a shortcut, remember?"

"Come on." Malcolm headed away from the disturbed monument. "Walk faster." He took the lead as the others followed.

"Look." Ian came to an abrupt stop.

His brothers froze as their gazes turned to where he pointed his finger. Seven women, all in odd dresses of green tartan silk, stood beside the cairn. Their lush, scarlet lips curved into smiles as seductive as warm kisses.

~~~~~

I’m having a contest to giveaway a pdf eBook of Dance of the Vampires. Please comment below to enter and include and your email so I can contact the winner.
For more of my Celtic/Romances, please visit me at http://CelticRomanceQueen.com, http://www.facebook.com/CelticRomanceQueen, and https://twitter.com/#!/CorneliaAmiri

Guest Author & Giveaway: Sidney Bristol

Hello! And thanks so much to Melissa for allowing me to guest blog today. These last two weeks have been crazy busy. My new book, Personal Adventures, released on the 18^th from Ellora’s Cave, my mom’s doing yet another twenty four hour cycling race, my dad’s off in New Mexico riding his horses and roping cattle for fun and there’s yet more books to be written and edited. It’s a good kind of busy and crazy, I wouldn’t trade it for anything! I know a lot of my activities in comparison to my parents seem rather tame. I write. They rope two hundred pound cows or stay on a bicycle for hundreds of miles. I still like to think I have a healthy sense of adventure thanks to the gypsy lifestyle I grew up with traveling around to rodeos. Yes, I’m a rodeo brat. Among other things.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m going to end up being That Relative at holidays who always tells That One Story. You know that story, about the time they and that other person did that really awesome stuff and things happened and it was so funny or crazy or neat, except you’ve heard it so often that it’s not anymore.

This got me thinking, what stories am I going to tell when I’m the cranky old cat lady with the flame-painted-walker? So, I submit to you my top five runners for, That One Story…

1. This one time, when I was living in Thailand, I didn’t think it was a good idea to warn the other Americans about the toilets. You see, in Thailand they use what’s called a squatty potty. Think of a porcelain toilet bowl set into the ground with rubber grips on the side, if it’s a fancy one. So it’s time to stop at a road side outhouse and the guide that’s driving us to the city we’ll be living in looks at me and says very seriously, “They need to use the bathroom.” I had to remember that I was an old hand to squatty potties, having been introduced to them in Russia. I had to take about eight very girly Americans into a cinderblock and plywood structure and demonstrate to them how to use a squatty potty. There are pictures, and here is proof. During this time, I also learned how to wash, clean and fry up crickets. They are a common snack food and taste like a cross between popcorn and fried green beans. It’s not the taste that gets you, it’s the legs stuck between your teeth.

2. When I was twenty, I got the opportunity to be a roadie for two of my favorite bands for a week. During those seven days, I broke my arm, refused to go to a hospital, had an earring mostly torn out of my ear, slept in my car, drank nothing but Rockstar and passed out in my best friend’s ultimate band guy crush’s arms. I had no clue who he was. I have nerve damage from not getting my arm looked at. But it was worth it.

3. This one time when I was on a ski trip, a really hot snowboarder and I took the pony tow up to the top of the mountain where the double black diamond runs were. At the time I was on snowblades, which are mini skis, think the roller blades of the snow sports world. A double black diamond ski run is incredibly hard, usually very steep and treacherous. But I was going to do it because there was the Hot Snowboarder. We select the run from the map we want to do, and head in that direction. The snow was beautiful, pristine, perfectly fresh. No one had skied on it that day. With a “Yahoooo!” we took off down this run. I took it at an almost straight shot down because I was trying to impress Snowboarder. At one point I even did a somersault, rolled to my feet and kept going. I was feeling pretty bad ass. We got to the bottom of that run where it joined kind of an easy trail that would allow us to return to the lift, and suddenly a swarm of ski patrol is all over us. Apparently the run had been marked off because they were setting off avalanche bombs to knock snow off the ridge. It took some serious groveling to keep our lift tickets.

4. I grew up doing rodeo, primarily trick riding, but I also got to do a few stints as a rodeo clown. This one time I’m out in the arena in full rodeo clown get up, and I can’t get back to the barrel fast enough before a steer that had just been bucked charged me. I wound up being shoved against the fence and tossed around like a rag doll by this eight hundred pound steer. I escaped mostly unharmed, save some interesting bruises. I finished the performance and my mother never let me be a rodeo clown again.

5. This story has a lot in common with #2 up there. For about two years I played and was part of the local roller derby league. I worked my butt off to get on a team, and put in a lot of time skating outside of practices. A speed skater friend of mine and I went to a public skate and thanks to a tweenager skating the wrong direction, I had to make the choice to either hit the kid going really fast and hurt her badly, or go face first into the wall. I went into the wall and fractured my knuckles. The doctors didn’t want to cast it and wanted me to not practice. I’d worked too long to not play, so I duct taped my hand to a piece of plastic under my wrist guards and went to practices anyways. That’s dedication. It was also a really stupid choice.

I’m going to give away a copy of my book, Personal Adventures, and a $5 gift card to the winner’s choice of either Barnes & Noble or Amazon. To enter, answer the following question AND leave a way to contact you, either email or twitter handle. The contest will end in 48 hours, and the winner will be chosen at random.

Do you have a relative that tells a story so many times you can recite it? Want to give us your rendition?

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It can never be said that Sidney Bristol has had a ‘normal’ life.  She is a recovering roller derby queen, former missionary, and tattoo addict. She grew up in a motor-home on the US highways (with an occasional jaunt into Canada and Mexico), traveling the rodeo circuit with her parents. Sidney has lived abroad in both Russia and Thailand, working with children and teenagers. She now lives in Texas where she splits her time between a job she loves, writing, reading and belly dancing.

You can keep up with her by checking out her Website, where you can see her latest releases, blog and sign up for the newsletter. She’s active on both Twitter and Facebook.

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Personal Adventures

Coming May 18th from Ellora’s Cave.

Carey's had the hots for his best friend and outdoor adventures coworker Elise for two years, but the timing has never been right. Now they’re both single and Carey wants to entice her into an adventure that’s about just the two of them. In the bedroom, in the hot tub, under the beautiful Colorado sky…

Elise doesn’t buy into the idea of love, but lust she understands. Carey’s friendship is important, but a relationship doesn’t fit into Elise’s five-year plan. She isn’t looking to repeat her parents’ mistakes.

With secrets coming out from under every rock and desire unchecked, this adventure might make more than the water on their rafting trips rush.

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Excerpt

Elise gulped down a deep breath to steady her nerves and pushed away from the shed. Her stomach fluttered and her palms were moist. The cool evening air caressed her legs and whispered up her skirt, kissing bare flesh. Her nipples were tight, hard peaks. She had tried to find her one real bra with actual lace, but it had been a lost cause. If it wasn’t for her lack of breasts she could have borrowed one of her roommates’ bras like she’d “borrowed” the dress she wore. Her breasts weren’t much more than walnuts, but it was the idea of getting ready that had mattered at the time. She didn’t typically need to wear a bra and she never wore a dress, but she’d do both for Carey.

Ahead, light spilled from every window in the cabin. The tall pines stood sentinel around it. It was a beautiful home he’d had built not long after taking the job at Adventures. She’d been jealous of it in the beginning, but she spent a lot of time there, so she got to enjoy it almost as much as he did.

The house was a variation of the single-room cabins settlers used to build, very no-nonsense. A dividing wall separated his bedroom from the rest of the house, and the bathroom had an entrance into both spaces. The front and back porches made up three fourths of the square footage of the actual house, and more often than not was where they hung out. Again, he’d used local people to build it. In true bachelor style, it was furnished with comfort in mind, but that was how she liked things as well, so she had no complaint about the cabin or Carey. Except that she wanted what he had.

As she stepped around the truck, her stomach threatened to mutiny. Who was she kidding? She didn’t have any business being here.

Movement in the far right window rooted her to the spot. Had he seen her? If he hadn’t, maybe she could back out of the drive and leave. Peering at the window, she waited for any sign that she might have been seen.

Carey stepped into view, perfectly framed by the window, buck-ass naked. And what a nice ass it was. The round globes were as tan as his chest. Elise imagined him sunbathing naked on the rocks behind his house. Her mouth dried. Wide shoulders tapered to a stomach she knew was firm and flat. He was muscular from hours of hard work, not hanging out at a gym. The tattoo circling his right arm stood out as the only bit of color. She’d gone with him to get the tattoo and let him squeeze her hand. It was a simple black silhouette of the mountains, but it symbolized his love for the great outdoors.

He turned, giving her a profile shot. His head tipped forward and his hand grasped his cock. He didn’t jerk himself hard, but it was a strong touch, sliding up his stiff flesh.

Oh god. Elise’s heart knocked against her chest and her breath hitched. She wanted to do that. She wanted to feel his skin against her palm, caress him in a way that would make him groan.

Her knees wavered at the hedonistic thoughts. Swaying, she caught herself with a hand against the hood of his truck.

The headlights flashed and the horn began honking. Elise yelped and jumped back, her heart racing as the continuous sounds of the alarm echoed through the night. She looked from the truck to the window—

Carey was gone.

“Shit!”

Guest Author & Giveaway: Adele Dubois

Hot Cars, Cool Motorcycles by Adele Dubois

The characters in my books drive fast motorcycles and hot cars. In real life, I’m scared of motorcycles, though they fascinate me. I compensate for my fear in fiction, where I can ride on the seat of a bike whenever I want. My REV ME UP and REV ME TWICE military heroes and INTIMATE ART story hero personify the hunk on a Harley ideal. Readers tell me they love these characters and I love them too.

My heroines tend to drive convertibles, like I do in real life. For me, there’s nothing more exhilarating than driving fast with the ragtop down. My DESERT FEVER and DESERT WILD heroines share my love of the open road. Though my car is a Sebring and they drive a Retro Thunderbird, we savor the feel of the wind in our hair, the sun shining on our faces and the thrilling sensation of speed. As long as there’s a stretch of open road, my characters and I will continue to fly.

Do you enjoy the fast driving fantasy? Do you like hot cars or cool motorcycles? Leave a comment and be automatically entered to win a fun REV ME UP motorcycle key ring. Item sent by snail mail to residents inside the continental USA.

Visit Adele Dubois on her Website

Excerpt and Buy Link for REV ME UP 

Available at Ellora’s Cave and everywhere ebooks are sold

Excerpt and Buy Link for INTIMATE ART 

Available at Amazon and Smashwords

Buy Adele’s Books at Ellora’s Cave!

Buy Adele’s Books on Amazon!

Guest Author and Giveaway: Kelli Scott

Thank you, Melissa for having me on the blog today.

Most frequently asked question. Kelli, how do you come up with story ideas?

How don’t I? That’s a better question. I wish the ideas would come to me one at a time in evenly spaced intervals instead of pummeling me like Extreme Dodge Ball. Most stories I can trace back to their origin, a news story or article I read, if not a specific time or place. Once the seed is planted, it grows slowly like a flower, or sometimes consumes me like a weed. My latest release, Hair of the Dog, for example, was inspired by my job at the time.

Cue dramatic flashback music.

Once upon a time I worked at a fraternal organization. You know—one of those men’s clubs named after a majestic animal. The kind with secret handshakes, rituals and salutations. Sometimes they wear goofy hats or colorful vests adorned with regalia and call each other Brother. My job—if you’re curious—office grunt. I try to think of my menial jobs as paid research opportunities.

As a general rule, my mind does not operate paranormally, but I thought what if…what if the members of these benevolent societies were actually shifters of whatever fierce critter was their namesake? Wolves and Cougars and Bears, oh my. That’s a start, right? What’s next? Set the story in a sleepy little mountain town where shifters come to rejuvenate, relax and vacation. Throw in a magical hot spring in danger of drying up and an enchanted fairy prophesized to save the town and you’ve got the beginnings of a story. Sprinkle with romance, drizzle with sex and serve sizzling hot.

And now that I have the most frequently asked question out of the way, anyone have any other questions?

Hair of the Dog blurb:

When Grant, mayor of Mystic Springs, offers Ivy her dream job running the Mystic Springs resort, Ivy is thrilled and accepts the job without so much as visiting first. When she shows up and meets Grant, her goals change a little—she got the job and now she wants to get Grant—preferably at her mercy in the bedroom.

Grant’s inner animal is desperate to take Ivy and make her his. And he’s not joking about the animal part—Grant and most of the Mystic Springs residents are shifters. The spring is more than a landmark—it’s the touchstone that grounds their powers and keeps them on the human side of the shifter spectrum. But the spring is running dry.

The townspeople are convinced that Ivy is the woman who was prophesied to save the spring. Local legend is rife with sex acts that might rejuvenate the spring and Grant’s only too happy to give them a go—he just has to convince Ivy that he’s the man—err, wolf?—for her.

Bio:

Kelli Scott, a former airline employee, spent her career globetrotting the world, leaving broken hearts and empty champagne flutes in every port. Turning over a new leaf, she started her own now defunct religion, also revolving around champagne. Currently a recluse living on a mountaintop in the Appalachians, she enjoys rock gardening, taxidermy and writing her semi-autobiographical memoirs. Her debut erotic romance, Stormy Wedding was a 2012 Epic and Beanpot finalist. Kelli Scott's next erotic romance, Drive-In was also a 2012 Reader's Choice Beanpot finalist. Hair of the Dog, her newest release is an erotic paranormal shifter romance.

Kelli is giving away ONE ecopy of Hair of the Dog to one randomly selected commenter. So leave some love and a way for her to contact you in case you win.

Guest Author & Giveaway: Tilly Greene

I enjoy the research phase of writing and Missing in Paradise presented a unique avenue to follow with the profession of the heroine, Mary Miller.  She hosts a Martha Stewart type show based in Hollywood that focuses on repurposing, reusing and recycling craft projects.  I am not a craft person, although I wish I were and envy those who can do such things.  With those feelings rambling around in my head, I took great pleasure in bringing not one but two wonderful projects into the story in hopes readers would be inspired to take them on for themselves.

What are they?

Well, one was found on the Martha Stewart site titled Teacup Lights and this is how it evolved into Missing in Paradise scene:

“After the used wicks have been removed and all the old and any new wax you want to add melts in a pan sitting in another of boiling water or using a double boiler, clean and dry the tea cups you’ve collected.  Next, take a length of fresh wick, attach one end to the stabilizing metal tab and set it in the bottom of the cup.  Stretch the wick a couple of inches above the cup’s rim and cut.  Wrap the excess around a skewer, either metal or wood would be fine.  Carefully dip the wick in the melting wax, then lower it down until the sustainer disk rests on the bottom of the cup.”

Mary looked down at what she was doing while explaining the process to the camera and audience.  She noticed her hands were shaking and sought a calm place for more energy to help her continue filming until they were done with the segment.  Most likely it was another beautiful day in Los Angeles and everyone inside the sound stage was missing out.  Instead of enjoying the sunshine or even the amusement park, the audience members paid good money to enter, they were locked inside a studio waiting for her to finish.

Enough with the pessimism!  She pushed the negativity away and would deal with it later.  There would be no more takes, this would be the last of the day.

“Like this,” she looked up at the large camera with what she hoped was confidence, then back down as she settled the skewer along the rim.  The next phase was where the problems had previously peaked and she chose to change things up a small bit to buy a bit more time.  “If your cup is delicate, you might want to use a basting brush to wipe the inside walls with a bit of wax.  Let it cool down before moving on to the next step.”

Slipping her hand into a kitchen glove, she picked up the pan filled with burbling wax.  Slowly and with care, she started to pour the pink molten mass into the delicate tea cup.

“The wax is very hot.  Make sure the pot you choose to use is not too big or heavy.”  Inhaling through her nose, she slowly let it out through her slightly parted lips and carefully poured the liquefied wax into a beautiful flowery cup with a chipped rim.

“Remember, the wax is very hot.  No multi-tasking.  Go slow and stop pouring about a half inch from the rim.”  Reaching the necessary level, she set the pot back down, and took a few steps to camera left, which was to her right.  She could see the spot marked by a large black taped x on the floor out of the corner of her eye.  It also helped to have a cup with the wax already set and prepared for the next step waiting on the counter.

“Once all the cups are filled, leave them for an hour.  The next step is to fix the depression around the base of the wick.  Using an unused skewer, poke some holes around the wick and pour a bit more wax until the top is leveled.”

The end of the segment was in sight.  At last, Mary believed she could finish without any more mistakes.  In her line of work, people were often put on a pedestal and joyfully knocked back, which meant she had to be careful.  She took a few more steps to her right and stopped in front of half dozen completed cups.  Picking up a pair of scissors, she snipped the wick and looked back at the camera with a stiff smile.

“When you have a smooth surface and the wax is set, clip the wick.  There you go.  A way to use a tea cup which has lost its saucer or handle, or, in this case, has a chipped rim.  They make great gifts or for decoration around the house.  You could also add a special scent or color.  As you can see, mixing the wax from candle stubs you were going to throw away results in an interesting swirl of color. “

While talking evenly and with clarity she wasn’t feeling, Mary held up the results of what could be done with the craft project for a different camera to catch with a close up for viewers at home.  Relief for being almost finished with the show and week washed over her and helped ease her smile and to stand a little straighter.

“And there you have it, another way to reuse a well loved treasure.  Directions for today’s projects are on the website.  Monday we’ll make a creamy leek and potato soup using your garden herbs and look at how to repurpose an unwanted sweater as a purse.  You heard me right, a purse.  Have a great weekend, everyone.”  The audience clapped and the floor director motioned they were clear.  Sighing with relief, she addressed the audience.

“I want to thank all of you for coming to today’s taping and being patient with me.  It was my intention to entertain you and pass on tips to make reusing things we often find no reason to keep more fun, only it took longer than we’d expected.  Please accept a tote bag with goodies inside as a token of my appreciation for sticking with me during filming.  None of it would have worked without all of you.”  She smiled at the pleasant mutterings of surprise many offered at being given a canvas tote bag filled with hopefully useful stuff.

©Tilly Greene, 2011

Yes, Mary was having a bad day, but the project and filming turned out wonderfully.  Here is a bit more about:

Missing in Paradise by Tilly Greene

Contemporary Erotic Romance + Bondage

Published by Ellora’s Cave

Buy eBook from Ellora's Cave│All Romance│Amazon│BN│Sony Reader Store

When the love of Mike’s life breaks up with him abruptly, he doesn’t know where to turn. Mary is an emotional mess who reacts without thinking, and immediately regrets her decision. Making things right with Mike isn’t easy. It requires privacy to rebuild their love and share their lust. Neither expects their getaway to become a major news story.

The tattooed retired surfer and daytime TV star are opposites, yet perfect for each other. But paradise isn’t easy on them. Their bond will need to stand up to the strain of a public-relations nightmare if they have any hope of making it work.

Mistakes are made and they need privacy to fix things, but what about the media?

Missing in Paradise contains one more repurposing project and while not as detailed, it is another one I would love to do myself.  What type of craft projects have you done or want to do that reuses an old favorite?  A random commenter will win a copy of Missing in Paradise - a name will be drawn after midnight on Saturday the 7th.

Tilly Greene

Scorching romances full of twists, turns and ties.

www.tillygreene.com

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Guest Post: Ju Dimello

Tales from the kitchen in romantic fiction...

My characters like to cook...Maybe it's because I have a love-hate relationship with cooking, or it could be the fact that I need a lot of comfort food to get me into the writing mood or it could just be that I can try whatever dishes I'm in the mood for through my characters. Whatever the reason is, I love to incorporate food into my stories, and let me tell you, that's always much easier than me preparing them! 

In Fiery Icicle, my debut release (Look at my cover pretty), the heroine is a witch. To make it interesting, I put in a point that she doesn't eat eggs. Well, I didn't realize the amount of research time I might need, where I ended up searching for recipes that doesn't contain eggs and in making sure the heroes (yep!) take double care in that aspect :) It was so much fun for this book :) 

I think there's a lot one can find about characters from the way they eat or show they care through food. At the very least, I feel so nice when my DH (Dear Husband) steps in to cook for no reason at all...and there're times we substitute eating in instead of going out to celebrate and it's fun to cook together. Of course, the kitchen looks a lot more messier that day but well, it gives me a chance to get worked up and start on a whirlwind of cleaning (which btw, is my usual style). LOL! 

How about you? Do you love to cook, hate it? Or in between - where you do it because it has to be done? You can find me at :www.judimello.com and can stalk me on the links given in my website. And since my book is not released yet, I'm making sure I leave you with something sweet..Something to drool over..What better than chocolate? Oh, while you're at it, do tell me what's your favorite comfort food. 

<Disclaimer : Chocolate cake image is taken from the web and is the copyright of the respective website/owner>

Guest Blog & Giveaway: Juniper Bell

In Alaska, where I live, winters are long, hard, cold and snowy. Enter our local hero: The Plow Guy. Ploy guys are tough, rugged, undaunted by the worst of weather. They arrive on their mighty steeds -- otherwise known as exhaust-spewing machines -- freeing terrified residents trapped behind snowbanks. Walls of ice collapse before their unstoppable force. Roads become passable, fuel can be delivered … lives are saved. The allure of the Plow Guy has even made it into TV land. Remember the sexy plow guy who romances the uptight New York editor in Men in Trees?

Certain Alaskans (with the initials J.B.) have been known to make cookies for their plow guy. Another friend of mine offers more adult treats to hers. It doesn’t hurt, of course, when your plow guy is a young, hunky guy like ours. Or when your plow guy works in tandem with his equally hunky brother.

Yep, we’ve got two sexy brothers plowing our road. A ménage a plow, so to speak. As you can imagine, our road is very well-plowed. So far, the brothers have only come separately, but maybe one day, after an especially bad blizzard, they’ll both show up for a double plowing.

(Had enough plow double entendres yet?)

As an erotic romance author, it seems natural to imagine how I can put a plow guy or two in a story. So here we go – just a couple thoughts. 

Plowed. First they get snowed in, then they get plastered. A woman, her plow guy, and one unforgettable night.

A Tale of Two Plows. Two brothers vie for the affections of a local beauty. But does she really have to choose?

Deep Plow. A plow guy is recruited by a porn producer and becomes a sensation.

Colters’ Plow Guy. The latest installment in the popular series. (Sorry, Maya.)

And Plow Guy Makes Three. A married couple expands their family in an erotically unexpected way. 

A Little Harmless Plow Guy. (Sorry, Melissa.)

My Three Plow Guys. Why settle for one plow guy, when a girl can have three?

Nobody’s Plow Guy But Mine. A plow guy finds himself locked in a fem-dom’s dungeon. (Sorry, Susan Elizabeth Phillips.)

Plow Guy and Prejudice. In a reversal of the classic tale, a local heiress disdains her plow guy even as she finds herself drawn to him.

And now the floor is open. Any other Plow Guy story suggestions? Give me one in the comments and I’ll put you in the running for a choice of any book from my backlist.

Plow on!

Juniper Bell is a bestselling author of erotic romance for Samhain and Ellora’s Cave. Her next release is Beautiful Obsession, coming soon from Ellora’s Cave. You can connect with her on her website, Facebook, or on Twitter as @AuthorJuniper.

Guest Post & Giveaway: Cassandra Carr

Impact

Cassandra Carr

Book one in the Buckin’ Bull Riders series.

Professional bull rider Conner Raub hides a secret from the world. He’s a Dom. When he meets a submissive on tour who pulls at his Dom tendencies, he fights to deny his true self, believing his colleagues will condemn his lifestyle.

Jessica Talbot is new to the BDSM scene and the bull riding tour, but after seeing Conner come to the aid of a submissive being mistreated in a club, she sets out to have him for her own. After their first night together she asks him to train her to submit and he refuses, afraid to mix business with pleasure. But Jessica isn’t deterred. She’ll do whatever it takes to make him realize he can have it all—a career, true love and the BDSM lifestyle he craves.

Researching bull riding: it's a hard-knock life

by Cassandra Carr

When I set out to write this bull rider series (Bk 1, IMPACT, released yesterday), I didn't know a whole lot about bull riding. I'd seen snatches of it on TV and had read a couple of other romance writers who had released stories with bull rider heroes, but neither of those things was nearly enough to write an entire series based on that world.

So what did I do? Research! And boy, was it tough. Do you believe me?!?

After all, I had to comb through the websites for the PBR (Professional Bull Riders tour) and the PRCA (Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association). I had to watch PBR on what's now NBC Sports (Versus at the time) and NBC. Yes, bull riding is a big enough sport that NBC carries it...I also had to talk to bull riders, look at tons of pictures, watch videos...In short, I had to immerse myself into the world as much as possible.

No one feels sorry for me? Yeah, I don't blame you.

I didn't base Conner, the hero of IMPACT, on an actual bull rider because I couldn't find someone who matched the picture in my head. Brady, the hero from book 2, COLLISION, is another story. Brendon Clark is a professional bull rider from Australia. Even better - he's smokin' hot. Check out the picture!

The other picture in the post is one of the young guys in what's essentially the minor leagues of the bull riding tour. This kid is 21 and eats, sleeps, and breathes bull riding. Most of the young riders are like that- you have to be if you want to make it in the highly-competitive world of professional bull riding.

What questions do you have about bull riding? I'm not an expert but I'll do the best I can to answer them. One commenter will win a set of Romance Trading Cards from IMPACT, so be sure to leave your email address!

BIO:

Cassandra Carr is a multi-published erotic romance writer with Ellora's Cave, Siren, and Loose Id who lives in Western New York with her husband, Inspiration, and her daughter, Too Cute for Words. When not writing she enjoys watching hockey and hanging out on Twitter. 

For more information about Cassandra, check out her Website at, "like" her Facebook fan page or follow her on Twitter.

BUY LINK:

IMPACT