Saturday, December 29, 2012

Fabulous Guest Romance Author: Lillian Grant

Not Always the Clown

I love writing erotic romantic comedy but it comes at a price. At my local writers’ group I have a reputation for being the one to say what other people are thinking. Sexual innuendo and double entendres fall from my mouth without me even thinking about it. However, Lillian Grant is my alter ego. She’s funny, sassy, not afraid to be the woman I would love to be. Everyone likes her and thinks she’s a blast.

However, she’s not the only me. Sometimes I wish I could leave her at home. Like most comedians I’m not funny all the time. I can’t be the clown for everyone. The real me has a day job in a very uptight profession where the likes of male strippers, three way sexual relationships and books full of sexy humor would freak people out.

The real me is happily married with kids and even when I am being the real me, sometimes I find myself having to hold Lillian back. A comment is made and she really wants to respond, to say something that would make my work colleagues suck in a lungful of air. Fortunately, Lillian is usually happy to only be the clown in the pages of my books where her imagination has free reign to invent crazy old ladies, sexually repressed mothers, sexual disasters and ultimately a happy ever after. Or in the company of other writers who know about my crazy other side. Maybe one day I will retire from the uptight profession and let Lillian lead the way. Until then I’ll gladly let her control my laptop and giggle at the crazy she creates, especially if her hero is a sultry, sexy, Irish Male Stripper.

undefinedLet me introduce you to Lillian’s latest muse, Michael Monaghan.

One man. One sensual dance. One night only to prove his love.

Michael wants Maggie. Maggie has Sam. Two’s company, three’s a crowd.

Years ago, Maggie tried to seduce Michael Monaghan, only to have her efforts rebuffed. Now she’s older, wiser, happily in love with Sam Stephens, and determined to keep her distance from Michael.

Michael Monaghan, hot male stripper, has all manner of women falling at his feet, except Maggie.  All he can do is watch from afar as Sam Stephens wins the heart of the one woman he really wants.

Sam Stephens is just tired of Michael watching Maggie’s every move.

Now there’s trouble with a capital T! Maggie’s Great-Aunt Maud has run off to Ireland with Michael’s Uncle Declan. Maggie needs to get to Aunt Maud and talk some sense into her before Declan’s gun-totting wife catches up with them. With Michael and Maggie off to Ireland together, Sam isn’t about to be left behind.

Tracking down the runaway lovers is complicated by the coldest winter in Dublin in years. With Michael, Maggie and Sam stuck in a house with only one bedroom, simmering sexual tension starts to boil over.

Michael wants Maggie. Maggie isn’t sure what she wants. Sam just wants to punch Michael in the nose.

Two’s company; three could be something else altogether.

Shannon scowled at the glasses with the stupid colored umbrellas as Pete placed them on her tray. Thursday was her night off. They never opened on Thursdays. She had plans to visit a club in one of London’s less seedy areas, and she was an exotic dancer not a fucking waitress.

Pete put the last drink down. “Table eight.”

“It won’t work.”

He leaned on the bar and leered at her boobs before running a finger along the edge of her
skimpy bikini top, teasing the edge of a barely covered nipple. “We’ll see.”

She shifted out of reach. Pete disgusted her, and the more she resisted the more he seemed to want her. Not that it stopped him trying to whore her out to customers. She didn’t do sex for money, and she didn’t do sex with Pete, period. Fortunately, she pulled a big enough crowd that he wouldn’t dare get rid of her for refusing his gross seduction techniques.

“Women won’t pay to see men take off their clothes.”

Pete glanced over her shoulder. “You want to tell them that?”

“You let them in for fucking free.”

“They’re paying for drinks, aren’t they? Or they would be if you’d fucking deliver them. Chop, chop. The show’s about to start.”

“I bet you’ve got some ugly old bloke with shriveled bollocks who won’t even flop his sad dick out.”

Pete laughed. “You’ll see. Now move it.”

Shannon delivered the drinks with a forced smile on her face, and then scooted to the back of the room to join Lisa who was already slacking off. The brunette passed Shannon a cigarette and lit it for her before blowing smoke rings. Shannon inhaled deeply and sighed as the nicotine hit her bloodstream. “Have you seen the hired naked dick?”

Lisa shook her head. “Nope, Pete’s had him under wraps. Rumor I heard was that he’s foreign and he’s never taken his clothes off in front of an audience before.”

Shannon giggled. “Oh God, this could be a right laugh if he gets stage fright. His dick’ll shrivel up. We’ll need a magnifying glass to find it.”

Pete came to stand behind them, and Shannon edged away as his fingers brushed her arse. The lights dimmed and the room was plunged into darkness. A hush fell over the crowd and then a deep guitar wail filled the air. A single spotlight hit the stage. Shannon’s stripper pole had been transformed into a lamppost. As the strains of Gary Moore’s Parisienne Walkways mesmerized the crowd a barefoot male stepped into the light, resplendent in top hat and tails, with a cane and gloves completing his ensemble. He lifted his head to reveal shoulder-length dark hair, chiseled features and full lips. He gave off an air of sexy disinterest at being the center of attention. His dark eyes scanned the crowd as he tossed the cane to someone offstage and then grabbed the lamppost with one hand and spun around in a twirl so low his hair almost brushed the timber floor.

Women yelled and whistled as he danced in front of the pole and began to remove his clothes. His hips moved in time with the music and the lamppost all but became his lover as his gloves, jacket, shirt and pants were tossed aside. He slid his hands over his body.
Shannon’s skin warmed and her nipples pebbled as she imagined him touching her like that.

Standing in only a top hat and G-string, he moved to the music with a grace that made Shannon catch her breath. He was six-feet tall, studly and bad boy fucking awesome. When the guitar wailed on a single note the stripper stopped, dropped his head, and held his hat in front of his crotch. The air rippled with tension and Shannon licked her lips as she wondered if he would really go the full monty. As the note ended he tugged his G-string off, and Shannon held her breath. The song and the room fell completely silent for a heartbeat, and when the guitar riff echoed around the room he flipped the hat into his right hand and rolled it up his arm to land perfectly on his head. He spread his arms wide and tipped his head back to give all the ladies an eyeful of his junk. Shannon wasn’t the only one to wolf whistle.

Lisa coughed on her drink. “Fuck. He’s hung like a fucking horse.” She fumbled with her cigarette packet, trying to pull out another smoke, and Shannon could hardly blame her.

The song continued and he dropped his hands and lifted his head. From the low moans in the room, Shannon was sure she wasn’t the only one who felt thoroughly shagged by the stranger on stage. His dark eyes locked with Shannon’s. He smiled, and she swallowed as a shiver rippled up her spine and her panties dampened. “He’s fucking magnificent. Who is he?”

Pete’s breath warmed the back of her neck. “His name’s Michael Monaghan.”


Thursday, December 20, 2012

Blogging Mechanic Panic

I have to admit that I'm still very new to blogging. I'm definitely getting better at it with each post but sometimes the mechanics escape me. For instance, I recently put up a guest author's blog, but accidentally posted it today rather than on a later scheduled date. Yes, dumb me pushed the 'publish' button before setting the post on the schedule, so the blog posted right away for a few minutes. I panicked, because I do that when something technolog-ish goes wrong, and managed to knock myself off the internet in my hurry to erase the post.

It matters a great deal to me that things go correctly when I have a guest author. I work hard to make sure their post is set up nicely and that their book covers are displayed correctly. It's a matter of respect that I take the time to do this right.

And so back to the story; I got back on the internet, signed into Blogger again and managed to delete the post and then repost it with the appropriate scheduled date. *phew* I can't tell you how upset I was to have made such a stupid mistake. The good part of this is that I learned two valuable lessons.

First, when setting up a guest author's post, I will put the post on the schedule before I copy and paste their post to the page. That way if things go wrong, I'll be okay with correcting the post.

Second, I need to accept that sometimes things go wrong and I just have to buckle down and do my best to fix my mistakes. The only mistakes that aren't fixable are those that aren't faced.

I doubt I'll ever be a great computer whiz when it comes to websites or blogging, but so long as I keep my toes in the technology based world, I'll continue to learn and grow. That's the best this little author can do. :)


Tuesday, December 18, 2012

A Bad Girl's Letter to Santa

Ever wonder what happens when a bad girl writes a letter to Santa. How does she get him to make an appearance when she's done such naughty things? What sort of naughty things, you ask.

I'm over at Ivy B Misbehavin' today, sharing my letter to Santa to see what others think. Take a peek and let me know your thoughts.

Do you think Santa will have something for me this year or just pass me by?

Merry Christmas all!


Thursday, December 6, 2012

Writer Hell: Two Starting Drafts of the Same Story

Apparently, I like to torture myself when it comes to writing, because I've managed to write two versions of the same story. This is Sindriel's story, for those who aren't familiar; Sindriel was a secondary character in Love's Demon Ways. He's a badass demon bargainer who's almost too sexy for words. 
I first started the sequel which I named "Sin's Way" but I didn't feel like it was going anywhere so I put it aside at 6K words. The heroine was a secondary character who'd had a small part in Love's Demon Ways. I later restarted the story with a different heroine and titled it "Sin's Secret Heart" and that story is currently 22K words. I haven't worked on it for a few months, as I've been busy with another story, but I'm ready to get back into the demon erotic romance again.
It might seem obvious which story to continue, but I've reread the first version "Sin's Way" and like it again. Yes, I'm unhappy at this point.
Should I try to combine these two stories?
There are scenes that I love in each one. I think what hold me back the most is the heroine. I want Sindriel to have a woman who's his equal and yet I'm not sure which heroine that is. I've always been good at writing heroes, but the heroines are another story. They are more complicated. Yes, I just admitted to us women as being more complicated. At least that's what I think of myself. *grin*
Anyway, Sindriel has many facets to his personality and I want to make certain that he falls in love with the right woman. I could throw both women in the story and see what happens, but I think I'd just be borrowing trouble at that point.
Has anyone out there ever written two versions of the same story? What did you do? Perhaps there is a plot element that I'm missing in the story. I'm off to brood on my circumstances for a bit.

Saturday, December 1, 2012

Safety Tips for the Holiday Season

We all want to have a great holiday with our loved ones, and that means making it through the sometimes crazy, shopping season. There is an increase in auto accidents as well as personal crimes during this time, so I thought I'd share a few common sense reminders to keep you safer.
1)      Drive defensively. People aren't paying attention to traffic but are instead thinking about where they have to go next. More people knowingly run red lights this time of year and justify the recklessness as "they have somewhere to be."
Don't trust another driver with your life. Drive defensively to make sure you make it home to your family every night. Courtesy to another driver, even if they're rude, could save your life.
2)      Say NO in parking lots. Never under any circumstances allow someone to approach you in a parking lot. If someone is approaching call out to them, "stop right there, what can I help you with?" It attracts the attention of others and puts the person approaching you on notice that you don't want them any closer. I've done this many times during the holidays when people try to approach me for money by my car.

A) Don't open your purse, your wallet or even hunt in your pocket for that spare change. It's all a game, and could get you mugged, even in broad daylight.
B) Have your keys in your hand when you leave the store rather than hunting for them in your purse or pockets. Inattention is dangerous.
C) Your purse isn't worth your life. If the worst happens, please remember that everything in your purse can be replace, your life can not be.

3)      Trust your instincts. Be aware of your surroundings at all times. If someone sitting in their car makes you uncomfortable, return to the store. We often tell ourselves that we're being silly for being creeped out, but it may be just the opposite.

4)      Eye contact. Lastly, I mention eye contact because when people are uncomfortable their natural reaction is to look down and away. This is a universal expression of weakness. Eye contact is powerful. When we look directly at another person, we express fearlessness and strength. This is what you want to project to others at all times.

I hope these tips help you stay safe. If anyone has additional tips they'd like to add in the comments, please feel free to do so. Happy shopping to all!
I'll be back to chatting about books, and writing next week.

Monday, November 26, 2012

The Last Week of November

I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving. I manage to continue to indulge in wonderful leftovers, but now I've noticed that my waistline has expanded a bit. Yes, I know the effects of overindulgence in many areas *wink* but we won't get into that.
Sadly, I'm not a creature of moderation, otherwise I could just eat less, and therefore I'm forced to exercise to retrieve my waistline. Yes, I do tend to do things the hard way, but considering the tamale dinner and sweets I'm expecting to enjoy for Christmas, I accept my fate.
Walking might be the best exercise for those unwanted pounds but I've have found another; decorating for Christmas. Yes, believe it or not, decorating takes me days. I hang garlands and lights and other decorations. This year I've found battery operated Christmas lights and am lighting up every wreath I can get my hands on.
I'm not neglecting my belly dancing exercises, of course. Those are great for strengthening your stomach muscles and pulling in that waistline at the sides. Bulging out over the top of my jeans doesn't make me happy, so a little sweating is worth the effort.
Unfortunately, I have a slice of cheesecake left in the refrigerator and it'll have to be tended to before the night is over. No, I won't do anything inappropriate like throw it away. I'll give it a proper burial in my tummy.
If only writing worked off pounds. *sigh*

Monday, November 12, 2012

Mary Corrales on Being a NaNoWriMo Tagalong

The one thing about being a writer is that sometimes life doesn't allow the time to create at we'd like. The holidays are coming and life seems to move faster. Throw in a cold or other illness and the stress alone makes it hard to be creative. Also, like most Americans I'm on a smaller budget for Christmas thanks to a crappy economy.
This is the time of year that I find myself prioritizing the most. There is a great deal to get done each day, and I have to choose what I need to do versus what I want to do. Finishing Christmas shopping is a must because I don't want to be out in the stores passed the first week of December. When you've had your shopping cart disappear in the store because you didn't physically have your hand on it, you know what I mean.
Sorry, I got off topic…a long time ago. Anyway, that's why I've been so inspired by the tweets and blogposts of NaNo writers this month. I've never participated, but these dedicated writers have kept me on course in my own works in progress. They push for those work counts and those thousands of words pile up and become a book at the end of the month. How amazing.
I was fortunate to meet one of these authors, Ivy Bateman, and the fact that she got her NaNoWriMo story published (The Fifth Story) speaks to how inspirational authors supporting authors can be. Maybe next year I might take the plunge and participate. For now, I'm a tag-along that benefits from tweets and blogs from real NaNo participants.
So what has tagging along helped me to accomplish? I have ten more pages to re-edit and then this story is going out for submission…again. Yes, I know it's not exactly writing but I'm inspired nonetheless and I've added another 4K words to the story, thereby enriching the characters. I also already know the next story I'll work on after I send this one out.
Thank you to all you NaNoWriMo word warriors out there. You Rock!
Any other tag-alongs out there?

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Writing A Character from Another Culture by Paty Jager

 Mary, thank you for having me here today! My pleasure, Paty. So what are you up to?

I’m on a two week blog tour and you could be a winner! I will be giving away a $5 egift card to a commenter at each blog stop and will give a bag full of goodies to the person who follows me to the most blogs and a gift to the host who gets the most commenters. You can find the blog tour hosts at my blog: or my website:

That's awesome, Paty. Why don't you tell my readers a little of the characters for your latest book, SECRETS OF A MAYAN MOON?

While coming up with the characters for my action adventure romance I wanted a hero who was a complete opposite of my heroine. I’d been visiting with a woman who had married a Venezuelan and had lived there for several years. Hearing about her life as an outsider and the way the men of Venezuela treated a woman, I thought giving my hero that background would make for an interesting contrast to my genius, privately schooled heroine.

What I didn’t realize that while building Tino’s background I would throw in government turmoil (in Venezuela), his family fleeing that country, and his teen and adult years being spent in the United States. With this as his background, I could give him the macho attitudes of the Latin men but also have him more tolerant of the heroine’s independence because he had lived in the states. His Latin machismo comes out when he is fighting his attraction to the skinny, brainy woman he wouldn’t usually look twice at. He soon realizes it is her heart, genius, and innocence that imbeds her in his heart.

Some of the culture things I found interesting about Venezuela dealt with how the men treated the women. From my friend’s account the women were treated like children. Given money for groceries and shopping and told when they could do things. The men refrained from vulgar language while around the women.

I used the language bit with Tino. He uses stronger curse words in his head and when Isabella isn’t around and a milder one when she is with him. While she grew up secluded and pampered, he faced many harsh realities in life and knows the seedy side as well as the affluent side. This both in his home land of Venezuela and in the states. Follow the tour and learn more about Tino when he is interviewed.

Blurb for Secrets of a Mayan Moon:
Child prodigy and now Doctor of Anthropology, Isabella Mumphrey, is about to lose her job at the university. In the world of publish or perish, her mentor’s request for her assistance on a dig is just the opportunity she’s been seeking. If she can decipher an ancient stone table—and she can—she’ll keep her department. She heads to Guatemala, but drug trafficking bad guys, artifact thieves, and her infatuation for her handsome guide wreak havoc on her scholarly intentions.

DEA agent Tino Kosta, is out to avenge the deaths of his family. He’s deep undercover as a jaguar tracker and sometimes jungle guide, but the appearance of a beautiful, brainy anthropologist heats his Latin blood taking him on a dangerous detour that could leave them both casualties of the jungle.

Tino pulled the truck over and stepped out. He’d have to be more careful around the doctor. For all her gullibility, she had a mind that deducted and researched. Keeping his true identity a secret from her would be a challenge. He retrieved a can of Gallo and a canteen. He slid under the steering wheel, handed her the canteen, and popped the top on the beer.

She frowned. “You aren’t going to drink and drive? It isn’t even noon.”

Her attitude reminded him of his initial perspective of her, when he only knew her name. Sour and bossy. “Yes, this is my beverage of choice since the water around here is unsuitable to drink.” It wasn’t his drink of choice. He only used it as a prop to reinforce his cover of a bum who could only get a job as a guide.

“But beer? You could purchase juice or soda.” She narrowed her eyes. “What happens if you get drunk and can’t find your way to the dig? We’ll end up stranded in the jungle.”

“I have never become drunk. I drink only when I am thirsty.” The gall of her to imply he didn’t know his way around the jungle. He sneaked a peek at the Government Issue watch with GPS strapped to his left wrist.

“I still think you could make a better choice. Alcohol has a drying effect on the body.”

Tino stabbed her with a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding stare. “What is sticking your clothes to you?” A sheen of perspiration glistened her skin, adding more definition to her collarbone and high cheek bones. His blood heated at the sight. He tamped the sensation down. Doctor Mumphrey wasn’t his type, she was out of his league, and he didn’t make attachments. In his line of work all he could enjoy were one nighters, and she wasn’t the one night type.

Isabella didn’t blush, but the indignant set to her jaw slackened. Her slender fingers unscrewed the lid on the canteen. Closing her eyes, she tipped her head back, and raised the vessel to her lips. Contentment transformed her features to the childlike innocence he’d noticed the night before. She slowly drank, savoring each mouthful and swallowing in slow motion. The effect more erotic than anything he’d seen before.

¡Coño! Tino stared out the window. The sooner he got her to the dig the better. His protective instincts had kicked in. Not good. Once he dropped her off it was adios intriguing señorita.

Secrets of a Mayan Moon is available at Kindle, Nook, and Smashwords

Wife, mother, grandmother, and the one who cleans pens and delivers the hay; award winning author Paty Jager and her husband currently ranch 350 acres when not dashing around visiting their children and grandchildren. She not only writes the western lifestyle, she lives it.

Her contemporary Western, Perfectly Good Nanny won the 2008 Eppie for Best Contemporary Romance, Spirit of the Mountain, a historical paranormal set among the Nez Perce, garnered 1st place in the paranormal category of the Lories Best Published Book Contest, and Spirit of the Lake, the second book of the spirit trilogy, was a finalist in the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence.

You can learn more about Paty at her blog;  her website; or on Facebook;!/paty.jager and twitter; @patyjag.

Monday, November 5, 2012

From Romance Writer to Published Author, What's Your Holy Grail?

When I first became a writer, all I wanted to do was be published. Of course, that many years back, the only publishers were of the New York variety. To get in with one of those major publishers was the ultimate goal if you were a writer. Sadly, you usually needed to have an agent before any of those big publishers would think to deal with you.
Times have changed with the rise of small presses and e-publishing. These smaller publishing houses have opened up the door to many first time authors and brought new and exciting voices to the romance reading community.
With these authors has come an enthusiasm for unconventional romance genres such as steam-punk, shifters and dystopian. Then there is the rise of the paranormal genre where we've fallen in love with demons, not to mention sexy angels that we never knew could be so naughty. 
Lastly, we've seen the securing of a place in book publishing history for the indie publisher. Thanks to modern technology, we all have the opportunity to publish our book and see it distributed around the world. These one ridiculed "self-publishers" are now on the cutting edge of new genres and as their rise to legitimacy gives readers a glimpse at their own possible futures as writers, if they wish to embark on the journey.
The key to a successful book has always been a good story, wonderful characters, and top-notch editing. I mention editing because nothing turns a reader off faster than misspellings, typo, and bad grammar.
This is where the big publishers and smaller presses can stay in business; by maintaining great editors that ensure high standards that don't leave room for sloppy, mass-generated books.
So is a writer's dream still to just be published? Writer's, is there one publishing house that you'd really like to have a book with? What's your Holy Grail of publishing?
Perhaps your dream is like mine…to hit that NYT Bestseller list, someday.
Write on!
NOTICE: Guest Author, Paty Jager, will be here on Thursday, November 8th and she's bringing a Giveaway for one lucky commenter. Don't miss her post.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Taking Paranormal Just a Little Too Far?

Readers, please welcome special guest author, Brynna Curry to the blog. She's got several enticing reads available that I hope you'll check out, and she doing a GIVEAWAY Today!!! Brynna...
  Thanks for hosting me today, Mary!
Ever curl up in your favorite easy chair with a hot cup of cocoa (or coffee if you’re like me) and the newest paranormal romance by your favorite author. Maybe you’ve had a long tiring day. Dinner is finished, the dishes cleared and the kids are off doing their own thing. You’ve waited months to read this new book. Finally, a moment to relax! Pure luxury.
A few pages turned and suddenly you’re stuck in the middle of a paranormal soap-opera. Complete chaos. The main character is a witch, with a werewolf husband, fairy kids (for crying out loud, somebody call Maury), maybe a vampire lover on the side and a cousin from wherever (or is it whenever) who happens to be their own grandma and second cousin twice removed thanks to a little mishap with time travel. Okay, I made that up, but really how much is too much?
If you find yourself flipping back a chapter or two to see just who has what kind of power, whether or not they are good or bad, how are you supposed to focus on the story? Kind of hard to keep up right? I don't mind a little time travel mixed in with vampires or even witches. In fact, I tend to expect some of that with those types of stories. Werewolves are complicated enough without trying to figure out the whens and wheres of half a dozen secondary characters. All with some kind of ability I might add. Sheesh. Focusing on a hero and heroine with powers in one magical world is plenty. It's their story I'm interested in! That said, there are when it works. (Heather Kruel’s Sarah Vargas series is one such situation.)
So readers and writers, how much is too much?  Do you like the chaos? Do you wish some books were toned down just a bit? Curios minds want to know.
Leave a comment and email address to be entered to win an eBook from my list of titles. Winner’s choice. One winner will be chosen and announced in the comment section of this post and at on November 2nd.

Fire’s Ice
Author:  Brynna Curry
Genre: Romance/Paranormal
ISBN: 9781616503956
Length: Novella
Word Count: 25,000
ePub Page Count: 83
Publisher:  Lyrical Press, Inc.
Publication Date: June 18, 2012
Cover art by: Renee Rocco
Formats: pdf, epub, mobi, html
Series: Elemental Magic Book 5 

Blurb: Ultimate power, or endless love?

Born the son of a Scottish laird a thousand years ago, but now trapped by his cousin's spell, Devin McLoch has seen countless battles and death. The erstwhile thief has turned away from darker pursuits to lead a life of peace, protecting those he loves and considers part of his clan. However, there is one woman he can never forget, who must be given a chance to change, to accept her heart and his.
Arianne Farrell is just as dangerous and intoxicating as her power. Imprisoned in an ancient stone dance more than a thousand years ago, her only chance at freedom from the spell is through love--a love she denied. When Devin asks for her aid to save another from imminent death, she realizes there is more at stake than just her freedom or her heart.

WARNING: Two stubborn sexy wizards using magic with no bounds, scorching love scenes, and happy ever after. Ever play with fire?

Excerpt – (Steamy)
© 2012 Brynna Curry
Dark, rich chocolate colored bedding echoed the tile framing the fireplace. Dainty furniture, curved legs and soft cushions, yet the poster bed was large and sturdy. She’d seen it before while she visited his dreams. Definitely Devin’s room. And remembering didn’t help the ache snaking through her body.

Walking into the en suite, the first thing to catch her eyes was the floor-to-ceiling mirror covering one wall. Arianne studied her reflection. Her long, dark curls were mussed and tangled around a pale face. Her lips were pink and just a bit swollen from Devin’s kiss. The only thing she wore was a long white shirt. Sniffing the collar, she smelled the crisp, clean fragrance clinging to the material. His shirt, not conjured. Devin didn’t wear cologne, but the scent of his soap always stayed with her. He must have changed her clothes. What else had she missed?

Because I love you. Men were ever a puzzle. Still, hadn’t she known? The dreams they shared had changed over time, slow and sweet instead of hot and fierce. A softness came over his face each night she visited his sleep, the same one she had seen this morning. Just that look was enough to have her quaking inside.

She found a bottle of bubble bath on the side of the tub. Thanks to Devin's dreams and Allie's influence, she had knowledge of modern conveniences such as indoor plumbing. Turning the faucet on hot, Arianne poured two capfuls under the stream and let the water run until the big round tub filled. Reluctantly, she unfastened the shirt buttons and let the material fall away to the floor. Slipping into the frothy bubbles, she sighed and let the reality of her situation sink in.

I am finally out of that wretched circle. True enough, but she was still in a prison of sorts. One with running water, walls, food that didn’t taste like air, and a sexy male witch bent on driving her to frustration. Not so bad, all things considered.

Being trapped in the stone dance didn’t mean she hadn’t noticed changes in the world around her for a thousand years. She tipped her feet out of the water, waved toward them, and turned her toenails a bright fiery red. Allie brought her little things from the modern world. Mostly books filled with sweet love stories; more than a few of them brought a blush to her cheeks. What would Ryan think of his daughter’s taste in novels? Better not to head down that road. Allie had dreams of being a writer like her aunt and uncle. If what she liked to read was any indication, she’d write hot. Very hot. Speaking of hot, a soft tapping sounded at the door. Her maddening laird had returned.

“Okay in there?” His voice sounded hesitant. “Breakfast is ready.”Time to ruffle the phoenix’s feathers a bit. “There is no need to be shy, Devin. You can come in.”
The sound of splashing water rippled past his ears. Temptress.

Knowing Ari was just on the other side of the door, naked and wet, willing to succumb to every fantasy he could imagine, was a torment in itself. All he had to do was accept her sultry invitation and toss aside his plan. But she deserved a sweet slide into love, not the wild, mad rush of pleasure he craved. One palm rested on the door of its own volition, ready to comply. Not yet. Now, if only his traitorous body would listen to his heart. “That depends, sweetheart.”

“Oh?” she called out from the other side. “On what?” 

Devin chuckled at the line, but he just couldn’t resist teasing her. “What are you wearing?” 

She laughed. “Bubbles. Lots of bubbles. Share them with me.”

He saw it so clearly. Ari’s creamy skin peeking through the frothy bubbles. Open, welcoming. Need clawed under the skin, screamed at him. Why the hell not? Feeling a quiver of desire vibrate through his body, he called her bluff. “And what would you have me do with those bubbles? Hmm, Ari?”

“Oh, I am sure you could think of something. Something deliciously wicked. I have shared your dreams. I know your fantasies, Devin.”

Oh, you have no idea. His mind made up, Devin opened the door.

She lay in his huge garden tub, feet propped up on the rim, eyes closed, waterfall of black hair piled on top of her head. A soft smile graced her face. So she was enjoying their teasing banter. “Have you changed your mind and decided to join me?”

“Maybe.” No reason he couldn’t push them both to the edge. Pulling the t-shirt over his head, Devin tossed it into the corner. He laid his cellphone on the sink--out of danger--kneeled by the edge of the tub and dipped one hand into cooling water, using his magic to heat it.

“Mmm. Nice.”

He let his voice drop to a whisper as he leaned close to her ear. “I want to slick my hands over every inch of your skin until you shiver from the heat.” His fingers found the back of her knee in the water and trailed higher along the inside of her thigh. “And then…”

A soft “Devin” slipped from her lips as Arianne’s eyes flew open. “And then…”
“I’d take more.”

Bio: Paranormal romance and romantic suspense author Brynna Curry is a lifelong believer in the importance of reading. She enjoys the writing process, helping others hone their craft by lending her time to review books, critique manuscripts and serving as a contest judge. She loves hearing from her readers.
When she isn’t writing, she’s often found haunting the library for new books to read, at the park with her children, or just spending an quiet evening at home with her husband Jackie watching old westerns on TV. She makes her home in North Alabama where the history is rich with music and culture, forests and lakes are abundant and beautiful, and every day is another adventure.

Visit her at
Twitter: @BrynnaCurry

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Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Guest: J.D. Faver with her newest release, BAD VIBES

Please welcome J.D. Faver to my blog today. She's the amazing author of the new release, BAD VIBES. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to visit my readers today. I'm sure they're going to love what you've got to say.

Hi Mary! Thanks for inviting me to be your guest today. I wanted to share with your readers the setting for my series, The Edge of Texas. The location is South Padre Island and it’s situated about 25 miles north of the Mexican border on the Texas coast. It’s a very beautiful semi- tropical part of the state. This is a good image of South Padre Island with the Gulf of Mexico to the right and the Intracoastal Waterway to the left.

My just released novel, BAD VIBES, is the third romantic thriller in my series: THE EDGE OF TEXAS.
Here is the blurb and a short introduction to the excerpt I’m sharing today:
Deputy Darla Calhoun is suffering a major heartache. Lonely and bristling with anger over her husband’s financial betrayal and suicide, Darla is holding her head high and trying to be the best mom to her twin 4-year-old sons as well as a valuable member of the tight-knit law-enforcement team under the leadership of Sheriff Rafael Solis.
Darla arrests a vagrant, hanging around the marina, but after he’s cleaned up, she discovers a hunky, hard-body with a smoldering gaze hidden beneath the filthy rags. He turns out to be a federal agent working undercover. He’s after a gang of human traffickers using the Intracoastal Waterway to bring sex slaves into the United States from Mexico. Rafael assigns Darla as liaison officer to work with the feds, bringing her face-to-face with the “Iceman”, Mike Burke, the undercover agent she arrested. Darla, Mike and his partner tear up and down the Intracoastal Waterway in pursuit of the human traffickers, but when two local women disappear, the search becomes personal.
In the following excerpt, Darla and Mike enjoyed their first unexpected night of passion after the operation they had run was foiled when the kidnappers murdered the victims. Mike’s partner has taken the surviving prisoners to be interrogated and processed, leaving them alone on the boat for the first time. This is the morning after:

 His arm was tingling, caught between the edge of the bunk and Darla’s ribcage.

He didn’t care.

She was asleep, her face on his chest.

Mike thought he’d never seen a woman look so pretty in the morning. Her long auburn lashes lay on her peach-colored cheeks, but her soft, full lips were a deep pink.

Since their operation had proved to be relatively fruitless, Mike’s frustration level should have been through the roof. Right now, his only frustration lay sleeping atop him.

Somehow, having Darla tell him that she expected nothing of him made him feel uncomfortable. She made him feel useless, expendable, and extraneous.

He should be willing to walk away. This was an ideal situation. She just wanted him for sex.

Mike took a slow, deep breath, so as not to waken her. Yeah, this is perfect. No expectations.  

He found himself staring at her face in the dim morning light and wondering why she had no expectations of him. Had men treated her so badly that she wouldn’t trust any of his kind ever again? She’s said that he was only the second man she’d slept with, so it had to have been one man who let her down. The husband? But he was dead. Mike figured that she wouldn’t be forthcoming with personal information so, maybe a little Darla reconnaissance might be in order.

It wasn’t like she was divorced. The guy died, so she probably had him on a pedestal. No man would ever be as good as the dead spouse.

And then there were her boys. Cute little kids. They looked just like her.

Mike resisted the urge to touch her, to stroke her hair or run his hand over the firm little ass. He felt the stirrings of an erection and tried to think of something less stimulating. His brain seized on the least stimulating vision he could imagine. The faces of the dead women he’d seen on the smuggler’s boat.
Yeah, that did it. No passion left brewing.

The order of this series is                                                                                                                                                           (1) BAD MEDICINE                                                                                                                                                                             (2) BAD KARMA                                                                                                                                                                 (3) BAD VIBES                                                                                                                                                                      (4) BAD DREAMS <Under Construction>
Visit J.D. Faver’s website:                                                                                                                follow on Twitter & Facebook
I hope everyone has a chance to visit South Padre Island and the Lower Rio Grande Valley. In the meantime, you can visit through my series and keep up with the happenings. My goal is to entertain…and keep you up nights. ;-) *hugs*