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RoseMary Gunn and Hearts A Plenty

Congratulations on your book! Why don’t you tell us a little about it.

Thank you so much for inviting me, Rhonda! It’s a pleasure to be here. Hearts A Plenty is a contemporary novella set in the small town of Awry. (Yes, that’s awry … as in the way things have a tendency to go.) We meet Claire and Jared and get a glimpse of their unique relationship, then things really heat up when Mark arrives in town. I should probably mention that Mark is Claire’s stepbrother. They met when their parents married the previous year.

Where were you when you got your first book contract? Who did you tell?

I was at home when I received notice that Liquid Silver Books wanted to publish Open Proposal. I was almost too sick with nerves to open the Email and read it. [grin] For about three seconds! Though it was late, I called my best friend. There was a lot of screaming and happy dancing around the living room.

What genre do you write?

I write romance … the hot stuff. [wink] I’ve written many different types of things over the years, but finally found my true passion in erotic romance. Everyone deserves to be with someone they love, there should always be smokin’ hot sex, and [for me anyway] a Happily Ever After is absolutely necessary. Erotic romance covers all three of these requirements. So far, I have two published contemporaries, Open Proposal and Hearts A Plenty. Both can be found at my Website. There are a total of four books planned for the Vintage Love Series, of which Hearts A Plenty is the first. As with most writers, there’s a warehouse full of characters pacing around in my head, patiently waiting (and not so patiently, in some cases) for their shot at the keyboard.

Do you have any tips for new writers?

Keep writing … even when you don’t feel like it. And believe me, there will be days when you don’t feel like it. We each have stories tumbling around in our heads, but the only way to share them is to keep that appointment at the keyboard each day.

What is your guilty pleasure?

Oh my. Noun or verb? [laughing] I absolutely love old stuff. That’s one of the reasons Masons Salvage came to be in Hearts A Plenty. I tend to be somewhat of a packrat though and much of what I scavenge is of little use to anyone but me. I scour garage sales for old junk: photo frames, tattered books, wooden boxes, vintage linens, houseware items … and tables! My most guilty pleasure though is almost embarrassing to admit to, simply because it’s such a go-go-go world we live in … I love napping. Yes, curling up beneath a nice soft blanket for a half an hour or so is absolute bliss for me.

Where can your readers reach you?

Ooooh, I love to hear from readers! My Website www.rosemarygunn.com has links to all the usual places: E-mail, Blogger, Facebook, and Goodreads.

Are you working on another book?

Yes! I’m currently working on Tattered Hearts, the next book in the Vintage Love Series. Tattered Hearts will tell the story of Stella and Eric, two troubled individuals you’ll meet in Hearts A Plenty.

Do you have an excerpt you’d like to share?

You bet! I would love to introduce your readers to the adventurous lovers of Hearts A Plenty, Claire and Jared. Thank you again for having me here, Rhonda!

Readers who leave a comment stating what Claire drops on the floor will be entered to win a copy of my previous release, Open Proposal. (Be sure to include an Email address in the comment so I can send it to the winner.)

This is Chapter One of Hearts A Plenty:

“Of course, I’ll be there. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen you and Daddy and I’m dying to see Jill’s baby.”
Claire Mason wandered around the condo as she talked on the phone, a habit that Jared Young had enjoyed watching during their many months of dating. He listened as she made her way through the kitchen into the living room then back down the hall toward the entry. He was surprised the floor didn’t show signs of wear from the circular route she typically traveled.
As part owner of an architectural salvage business, Claire’s place had an eclectic blend of many different eras. The brass and stained-glass light from the early twentieth century in the entrance illuminated a rough strip of barn wood lined with metal hooks and the jackets hanging there. In the hallway leading to the entry, an antique cherry-picking ladder attached horizontally to the wall provided the perfect complement for the black-and-white family photos showcased between the rungs.
The furnishings she used to create her home provided some insight about her quirky tastes and passion for her business, but none of it really mattered to Jared. He’d been content in the office/living area above his restaurant before more of his stuff started staying at her place than his.
From his vantage point he could see her reflection in the ornate floor mirror by the front door. Strain pulled at her soft lips and tightened the delicate curve of her jaw. Her sadness tugged at his heart. She stopped and leaned her forehead against the wall. The lavender in the old metal newspaper box that was secured upright usually helped to calm her, but it wasn’t working tonight. She closed her eyes and shook her head, maybe hoping some of her denial to whatever Dorothy was saying would travel telepathically through the phone.
Jared had been stretched out on the vintage sofa watching Claire as she talked to her stepmother, but now went to her and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. She wore a white tailored blouse with a classy high neck, unbuttoned just enough to hint at the delicious upper curves of her breasts, and a tan wool skirt hugged her hips. Just like her home decor, it made no difference to him what she wore; she always looked beautiful. She’d worked at the shop and attended a meeting today, but her T-shirts and jeans got him riled up as well. He’d like it if she’d wear just nothing at all. He didn’t have any problem wrapping his body around her curves and keeping her warm on the cold Michigan nights.
She settled against him. He heard and felt the steadying breath she took, knowing she drew strength from his touch. He had a feeling about where the topic had turned, which was confirmed by her next words.
“And Mark knows of this proposed arrangement?” Jared smoothed his hands up her sides over her ribs, feeling the soft shiver of awareness flutter through her. His own body tensed as he waited for Claire’s side of the conversation. He cupped the fullness of her breasts, rubbing the hard peaks through the crisp cotton and thin lace covering them.
“I realize that we’re family, Dorothy.” Emphasis obviously being repeated, though Claire’s words had a breathless quality that Dorothy Pierce-Mason’s had probably lacked. “That doesn’t necessarily mean that Mark is going to feel comfortable staying at my place while he’s here.” Another silence as Claire listened. Jared’s heart had settled somewhere in his throat as his mind quickly sifted through the many possibilities in the near future.
Jared took his time unbuttoning the blouse, dragging his fingers along the deep cleft of her breasts, wanting to run his tongue along the heated, scented flesh. Claire wore a sexy musk perfume that never failed to wind him up. He could feel the heavy thumping of her heart against his hand and also where his chest rested against her back. His own heartbeat kept pace with hers.
One by one, he released the small steel buttons. She lifted her hips slightly, finding the hard line of his cock and thrusting gently back against him.
Jared was always ready for Claire. She walked into the room and his senses heightened even as his brain ceased to function.
As he brushed her heavy mass of rich mahogany waves away from her neck, and feathered his lips against the rapid pulse beating there, he thanked whatever God was listening for the woman he held.
He slid his hands to her hips and squeezed through the long wool skirt, grinding the solid bar of his cock into the cleft of her butt. She continued her sensual gyrations against him, her cheek pressed to the wall. She moaned softly, covered it by clearing her throat, then apologized into the phone.
“No, no. I’m fine. Mark is always welcome in my home, Dorothy. You know that, just as he does.” More silence. “Okay then, that’ll be fine. I’ll expect him on Thursday evening.” Silence. “I’m sure Daddy is thrilled to have Jill’s family there, too. He hasn’t even been into the shop since they’ve arrived.” Silence. “Okay, Dorothy. I’m looking forward to seeing everyone next week as well. Good-bye for now.” She clicked the phone off and dropped it to the floor.
“I take it we’re to have a guest,” he said. There was no way to know how the other man would respond to what Claire and Jared had been fantasizing about. Jared did know that the images of Claire pushed to the extreme limits of her pleasure, stretched between him and a man he had yet to meet, made him ache to begin.
She rocked her hips in a rhythm that had Jared’s blood pounding to the center of his body. Her cheek still rested against the wall and, with her eyes closed, she nodded. He kissed the flushed, hot skin of her cheek. He nudged aside the collar of her cotton blouse, then bit the tender flesh where her shoulder met the elegant line of her neck. Her low moan had nothing to do with pain as she reached up to slide her fingers into his hair, her short nails scoring his scalp and sending a shudder through him. “Finish unbuttoning your blouse, Claire.”
She trembled in his arms, but did as he asked. Sadness filled her soft green eyes. “I’m sorry, Jared.”

Win a Free Book!

Stop my blog tomorrow- Wednesday March 23rd at www.RhondaPrint.Blogspot.com and visit with author Rosemary Gunn. She'll be talking about her new book Hearts A Plenty and giving away a FREE copy of Open Proposal!

Tessa's Pride by Olivia Brynn

Welcome back Olivia and Happy Release Day! Thanks for taking the time to chat with us about Tessa's Pride.

How did you come up with the title?

Some titles take me months. There were a few that I even submitted to publishers before I came up with one that I liked. Tessa's Pride came to me easily, once I got to know the heroine. She's stubborn, and her entire world revolved around her horse ranch. When her herd is sentenced to death, it's her pride that takes the biggest blow.

Are your characters ever a reflection of someone you know? Yourself?

Sometimes. I think I take bits and pieces from people around me and squish them together to make a whole new person.

Do your characters ‘talk’ to you?

Some of them never shut up. I just love it when I'm in the middle of a scene and the unexpected happens. It's almost like I'm reading the story, and not involved in the creation at all. I just sit back and say, "Wow. Now what?"

What is your writing day like when you’ve started a project?

Well, I'm a pantser. I don't plot, I just fly by the seat of my pants. When I get an idea for a book, rather than write an outline, I just start with whatever I've got. Sometimes it's the beginning of chapter one, sometimes it's the final chapter. I think I got off the subject there. My day starts with music and chocolate milk.

Do you find love scenes difficult to write?

They get progressively harder. The first few were cake. Then, as I don't want to cookie-cut scenes, I have to come up with new stuff. New emotions, new positions…

What book are you reading right now?

I've got so many on my to-be-read pile! Every week more books are released, and I don't think I'll ever catch up. I just bought Gem Sivad's Five Card Stud, and it's grinning at me from my desktop, taunting me with its nineteenth century sexy goodness.

Where can readers find you?

I'm on the web at http://oliviabrynn.com and on twitter at http://twitter.com/OliviaBrynn I also share a Facebook fan page with Alanna at http://facebook.com/alannacocaauthor

Are you working on another book?

Right now Alanna's got control. She's working on another contemporary, with a paranormal twist, and a romantic suspense.

Here is a link for the trailer! Enjoy! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LpyC5lX2SP0&

Do you have an excerpt you’d like to share?

Sure! I've also got a free read, the prequel to Tessa's Pride. You'll find it on my website. This is a scene where Josh returns to the Bradley Equine Ranch, and Tessa isn't quite sure what to make of it:

Tessa’s heart seized. When it resumed beating, the pounding was deafening. “You’re staying here?”
He shook out a pair of silky-looking boxers, then folded them carefully. He probably did that to fluster her, and she resisted staring at them.
Disregarding her avoidance, he gestured with the underwear. “You don’t expect me to stay in a hotel, do you? When this three-thousand-square-foot house—that has belonged to my family for generations—sits all but empty?”
Yes.
“Well, no…but I didn’t…I guess I didn’t realize you’d planned on staying in the area.”
For having folded them so carefully, he tossed the underwear into the drawer without a thought before walking toward her. No, he didn’t walk; he prowled like a hungry lion. “You’re afraid, aren’t you?”
Yes.
She swallowed. “Afraid?”
“To stay here alone with me.” He moved into her space, and it took all her willpower to remain where she was. Although part of her wanted to run downstairs, a bigger part wanted to step into the heat that always surrounded him like an invisible cloak. The clean scent of amber aftershave and the coffee on his breath made her mouth water with the need to taste him. She focused on his Adam’s apple, and as he stepped closer, she took a step back, until her spine hit the wall.
“I’m not afraid.” Her voice wasn’t as strong as she would have liked. She swallowed again and looked up at him. As soon as she did, she regretted the move. His gaze pierced her, immobilizing her. She desperately wanted to cover her breasts so he wouldn’t see the way her nipples had tightened.
“You don’t sound sure.” His dark brows lowered, and he studied her mouth. “I think you’re scared.” His breath washed over her face with each word, and Tessa clenched her hands to refrain from reaching for him. She wanted to rub herself against him and transfer his scent to her clothes. “I think you’re afraid I’ll ravage you like I did that day in the meadow. You remember that day, don’t you?”
Yes, she remembered—often. Daily. Nightly. Hourly. It was only two years ago, the day he’d left BER for good. She still didn’t know if he had been waiting for her or if she had just happened upon him.
“I remember it too, Tessa.” Her name coming off his lips caressed her ears.
Her lids slid closed as she soaked in the words, lost in reminiscence.
“I’ve pulled the memory of that afternoon out more times than I can count. I’ll never forget the way you looked with your Stetson tilted over your brow. Your bare legs, so smooth…and your mouth… God, your mouth.” He stepped closer, until their clothes brushed and that familiar heat surrounded her as surely as if he’d reached out with his arms.
“Your lips that day,” he went on, even though she hadn’t responded or even opened her eyes. “The way they caught the sunlight after I kissed you. I’ll never forget the way your tongue swiped my moisture from them. I don’t think you had any idea what that little move did to me.”
Oh, she knew. That was right after he’d come all over her hand. Then he made that sexy grumbling sound and covered her body with his. Tessa clenched her thighs together to resist the urge to re-create that morning.
“Yes, I remember,” she whispered, lifting heavy lids to look at him. Her desire was reflected in the depth of his eyes.
Josh softly stroked a line from her earlobe to her chin. He shook his head, never releasing her from his stare. “It was beautiful. If my father hadn’t interrupted us…” He trailed off, leaving Tessa to fill in what could have been.
It wasn’t hard; she’d been imagining that scene for two years. She dropped her focus to the third button on his white shirt. She lifted her hand to his chest, feeling his heart beating beneath her fingertips.
He tilted her chin until she was forced to look at him again. To drown in the eyes of the man she had sworn she’d never fall for again. “I wanted you that day.” She watched his mouth move toward hers with each word. He leaned an inch closer, until her hand was trapped between their bodies. “I still want you.”
Tessa fisted his shirt before she melted into the hardwood floor. Just as she remembered; one touch of his lips on hers, and she was lost.

Text Copyright © 2011 by Olivia Brynn
Cover Art Copyright © 2011by Harlequin Enterprises Limited
Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A. Cover art used by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises Limited. All rights reserved. ® and ™ are trademarks owned by Harlequin Enterprises Limited or its affiliated companies, used under license.

Welcome to the Valentine's Day Blog Tour!

My name is Rhonda L. Print and I am a paranormal romance author.

Scroll to the top of this page to read the blurb from Nightwalker, A Leah Wolfe SINS Novel and read the prologue and first chapter free at either LiquidSilverBooks.com or Amazon.com.

While you're here, add yourself as a follower on my blog before February 15th and one follower will be chosen to win a FREE copy of Nightwalker, A Leah Wolfe SINS Novel!

If you just happened along my blog today and want to jump on the blog tour bus for a chance to win some awesome prizes and meet some very talented authors, click HERE!

This is a weekend to celebrate love, romance and get a few nibbles of eye candy along the way. So lets get started with my short story to today's picture!




The door crashed open before I could give my answer. Maury rose from his knee and placed himself between me and the very angry man eating up the space between us in long, easy strides.

His long legs strode with a confidence only he could pull off without looking too cocky. He held his arms loosely at his sides but I could see his hands compressing into fists then releasing again in barely controlled fury.

“I thought I made myself clear, Andrew.” I lifted my chin and crossed my arms across my chest in defiance.

"You do not love him Elise. Why would you marry him?” Andrew's deep voice boomed across the room sending shivers of delight along my spine.

I sighed. In my world love and marriage had very little to do with one another. I was a Lupa, a she-wolf, and it was my duty to my pack to complete a treaty that had been made shortly after my birth. To marry Maury would continue the peace that my pack had enjoyed for the past twenty-one years.

To deny him would cause a war that would jeopardize the people I loved.

My heart sank in despair.

I wanted to spend all the days of my life with Andrew. Relive each night we’d stolen in each others arms.

I told him that the previous night would be our last. My father had arranged my marriage to the son of a rival pack leader upon my birth and I had no choice but to honor the arrangement.

I should have known that Andrew would attempt to stop me when, he responded by capturing my mouth with his.

I probably did know but simply didn’t want to acknowledge my fate.

Andrew deepened the kiss and I willingly fell into it, gliding my tongue into his mouth as if to seal the taste of him there for an eternity. My hands ran across his broad shoulders, savoring the feel of his muscles flexing as he picked me up and carried me to the bed.

I locked my thighs around him and raked my fingers into his hair as he trailed kissed down my neck.

He set me on the bed and stood before me, undoing each button of his shirt so slowly that I thought I would go mad with impatience. Before he’d reached the last button of his shirt, I had undone the fly of his jeans and was sliding his zipper down, freeing him at last.

He laughed as he pulled my shirt over my head then his eyes glazed over with lust. My skirt quickly followed my shirt and was thrown into a heap on the floor.

As our bodies joined my eyes welled with tears. Joyful ones for the love he filled my heart with and sorrowful ones for the knowledge that this would be the last time I would feel him fill me so completely.

I jerked myself from the memory.

“Andrew, you should not have come here.” My voice rose to barely a whisper. “Go home.”

“You heard her.” Maury growled. “Get out! She belongs to me now.”

I belong to Maury.

A possession.

No more important to him then the car he drove or the clothes he wore.

Anger rose within me, coloring my cheeks with rage. I choked it back, remembering my duty and the danger everyone I held dear faced if I turned away from Maury.

Destiny was an evil bitch!

I looked at Andrew, the man who loved me above all else.
Then I forced my gaze back to Maury before heaving out a long breath and letting my eyes fall to the floor.

The choice I made now would seal the fates of many. Which man should I choose?

There was only one answer.

“I’m sorry…” I whispered.


I hope you enjoyed my rendition of the picture!

It just wouldn't seem right to let you leave here without tempting you with some chocolate! Enjoy!

Nightwalker won an award!

Here is an email I received today!
Many thanks to April Martinez for her wonderful cover!

Congratulations on being a winner in the 2010 Judge A Book By Its Cover Contest, sponsored by Houston Bay Area RWA.

We're pleased to announce that your cover for Nightwalker placed Fifth in the Romantic Suspense category.

You can view the First through Fifth Place winners by clicking on the link "And the winners are..." on our home page at www.hbarwa.com.
And be sure to watch for the Grand Prize winning covers in the April Romance Writers Report!

Leslie Marshman
Contest Coordinator
Judge a Book By Its Cover

Interviewing the Interviewer

Today I get to interview the interviewer. Please welcome Houston A.W. Knight to the blog.

Ah, Interview The Interviewer…hummm, I like the sound of that. Maybe I’ll give up writing books and become a professional interviewer…I do enjoy talking to people. Hey Rhonda, thanks for having me over…I like it here. You’ve got a Great blog!

I’m fascinated by your blog

That’s good, means I’m doing me job! *wink* Wish there was a way to make money at it.

and the fact that you’ve written historical romance (Black Thunder), futuristic romance (A lover Paradox) and paranormal romance (Blood Witch). What draws you to write your genre and sub genres?

What draws me to write a historical(s) like “Black Thunder” is my adopted Full Blood Native American Indian brother…as a child he sparked me interest in the Native ways and beliefs.

I write Paranormal based on my Celtic background…we Irish are quite aware of the reality of both sides of our world. Our culture stems from the Druids.

My love of the futuristic comes from my love of science. I love writing romance, but unlike many romance writers and authors, my “down time” reading is not romance. I like to relax with “New Age” books by author’s like Newton (Journey of the Souls), Wolf (Parallel Universes), Ralphs (Exploring the Fourth Dimension), McMoneagle (Mind Trek), Monroe (journey’s out of the body) and Friedman’s Bridging Science and Spirit…books like these. They stir the imagination in me.

When I get published in Romance I hope my readers will enjoy the mixing of my loves within each of these genre. My futuristic has a touch of the paranormal as does my historical, but that’s because the reality of our world and life has this mix.

Your blog has many Ireland references to it

If it didn’t me father would be disappointed in me…he raised me to be proud of me blood.
Are you from Ireland?

Yes, it is the home of me heart, me blood and me family roots, though I was not born in Ireland or America. I am Irish through and through….me father will never let me forget that. :)

Have you ever been there?

Sadly for me not yet…But like a true Vampire I have soil from Ireland’s famous Croglan Aigle Mountian that I keep with me at all times. To remind me where me home is.

You mention on your blog that you have had personal experiences with the paranormal.

LOL, I’m Irish…what Irishman do you know that doesn’t?

Would you care you elaborate?

Ah, way too many tales to tell in the time we have here…but if you’re interested read me books because I share a lot of my life through them….and that includes the paranormal experiences as well.

What do you do to get in the mood to write?

Hot passion filled lips planting baby kisses up my neck. His strong arms wrap around me like a warm blanket on a winter morning, as he strokes feather like touches over my naked skin and whispers, “I want you.”

What? Oh, you want the real facts on what I do to get into the mood to write…oh, o.k., I get up around 2:oo 2:30 every morning, walk the dog with hubby, come home and bathe the dog, then toss them both back into bed. I then start me day with a cup of java and my laptop finding my inspiration in the wee hours before dawn, those precious hours when the world sleeps and my imagination takes flight. I’m full of stories in me head…they never stop.

Do you characters talk to you? (Mine never seem to shut up! LOL And I hope they never do!)

LOL…Thank the Gods I’m not alone with the talking Ghosts in me head. Yes, I said ghost not characters…and I say this because they come with a complete story to tell. When I have talking characters their stories are not always complete…there is a difference.

Who controls the storyline, you or your characters?

The ghosts control theirs…but I control the tales told by characters.

Who is your favorite author?

I love a good story and enjoy everything I read but if I had to pick one…I like Rhonda Print’s work…have you read her latest book, Nightwalker? ;-D

What are you reading now?

I’m Crit’ing two books by two New Authors…that I believe will make it to the market. One is a woman’s fiction by Linda Bond and the other is a fabulous futuristic (Like a “Lord of the Rings, but better) by Scott Eason. Both have requests in at big Publishing houses right now! I see both writers becoming big time authors very soon!

I’m also reading a published author Maya Banks. Her book is called “Sweet Surrender” It’s a very interesting story about taking control by surrendering to a lover’s desire.

What is your guilty pleasure?

OH…hot, steamy romantic sex with the hubby.

If you were a supernatural creature, what would you like to be and why?

I have a thing for flying and knowledge…so I’d have to be a dragon. They carry wisdom within their magic powers.

You have many awesome pictures on your blog. Where do you get them?

Thank you! I usually Google them…and when I can’t find what I want… I ask my friends Elaing or Cecile…both girls have a talent for finding hot pics! Have you seen Moony Mondays on my blog by Elaine, or Cecile’s sight? OMG! There’s a link on my blog for Cecile “Miss Smutty Hussy” or click here
All I Want and More and go see! I mean HOT photos.

Where can your readers reach you?

I have a Twitter account, Face Book and a My Space but if you really want to chat with me and get to know me, visit my blog at this link
Hawk
It’s more personal and it’s there I have time to chat and get to know you. You can also find me most days over at Valance’s Porch I’m a running character over there at the porch and if you enjoy the old wild west…it gets pretty wild over there! There is also a link for it at my blog. Just look for the cowboy or me as a saloon girl!

Are you working on another book?

Yes, one I said I’d never write – Vampire – But remember what I said about ghosts…it’s a story told and one that’s got me wondering as the words unfold…chilling!

It’s not an easy book to write because Sebastian’s soooo secretive…he wants the story told but he doesn’t want to give me the info’ I need to tell it! It’s maddening. BUT it is a book that I will try to sell when it’s done…

All the titles (except A Lover’s Paradox) that you see on my site are books I haven’t tried to sell yet…I wanted to get several completed and under my wing before I swoop into the selling market…that way I’ll be ready with several books when I take flight into romance print.

My book “A Lover’s Paradox” was read by a known reviewer and its awesome review can be read on my blog. You find the tab under the header.

I am published in articles and other reading forms…but that doesn’t count in the romance genre.

Thank you for having me here today Rhonda…I enjoyed the visit and sharing a wee bit of me life with your readers. I hope they’ll all come over to visit me at my blog and join me family….Cead Mile Failte (A thousand Welcomes).

Scroll Down to the next post for an excerpt of her book Black Thunder

Writer Houston A.W.Knight (HAWK) - Black Thunder

Join me tomorrow, February 9th as I sit down with Writer Houston A.W. Knight. Grab a cup of coffee and join us! In the meantime, enjoy an excerpt from her book Black Thunder

This is from Black Thunder:

Regretfully, he noticed the sheerness of the dress did little to warm her erect nipples from the cold or cover her nymph like body, silhouetted by the moonlight as it was. Inwardly he groaned as her hand move provocatively over her thigh to pull at the hem of her lacey chemise. God almighty, how the hell am I ever going to get her to Santa Fe and keep my sanity? He scoffed at the idea of protecting her from outlaws and Indians when she so badly needed protection from him.
“And me?” He moved closer to her, instantly picking up on her sudden nervousness. “How do you feel about me?”
Leann stood there nibbling at her bottom lip, twisting the end of her hair seductively between her slender fingers. Her head lowered in an innocent tilt. The image was enough to drive a sane man crazy with lust, and then she whispered, “Well now, that depends … how do ya’ feel about me?”
Her words were enough to drop him to his knees. Right then and there he should have insisted she return to the campsite but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Her question to his question gave him the answer he sought. He grabbed her hand and guided her further along the embankment, away from camp. When he found a safe area to shelter them from the cool air he stopped to pull her into his arms for an arousing kiss before saying in a throaty voice. “That’s why you came, isn’t it? To find out how I feel about you. To tempt me into showing my desire and my needs for you, but…” he pulled away from her, leery of the lure. “You know this is forbidden between Indians and whites? Is that the draw, the taboo?”

Guest Author Eve Langlais- Chance's Game

Thanks for joining me today Eve and Congratulations on the release of you latest book Chance's Game. By the way, what an awesome cover!

Eve will be giving away a copy of Chance's Game to on commentor on this blog. Good Luck!








Where were you when you got your first book contract? Who did you tell?

I was sitting in my office at 5:30 in the morning when I got my first ever contract via email for my fantasy romance Take A Chance. I was stunned and started bouncing up and down in my chair, giggling. The first person I told was my hubby who was getting ready for work and wondering what had me acting like a crazy lady.

What is your guilty pleasure?

Chips and dip. There is nothing more satisfying than opening up a ruffled bag of chips and double dipping in a herb and garlic dip. Yummy, salty, crunchiness for the Saturday nights when the kids are in bed and hubby is out watching hockey with the guys. It’s sinful, but sooooo good.

Are you working on another book?

I’m currently hard at work on book three in my Princess of Hell series. Started with Lucifer’s Daughter, continued in Snowballs In Hell, this third story is an absolute roller coaster. And for those wondering, yes, Lucifer and Bambi are making appearances along with a new character; a darkly, delicious vamp.

If you were a supernatural creature, what would you like to be and why?

I want to be a shapeshifter, a big cat preferably. I love the idea of having more than human strength, the ability to heal quickly and the concept of fated mates. Not to mention, it would be cool to be able to see in the dark.

How many books have you written? How many have been published?

I’ve written a total of twenty five stories and I am proud to say they have all been contracted. At this point in time, 19 are available for purchase either directly from the publisher or via various distribution sources such as Amazon, Fictionwise and All Romance. I have no intention of stopping either lol. I love writing.

Do you set timelines when you’re writing or write when the feeling hits you?

I treat writing like a job and work at it Monday to Friday. I aim for at least 1k words a day and a minimum of 10-15 k words a week. I am my own taskmaster lol. Of course, sometimes my regular day job, family and real life get in the way, but I still strive to always reach my weekly goals.

Who controls the storyline, you or your characters?

My characters always seem to develop minds of their own. It’s why I can’t use an outline when I write. Just when I think the story is going one way, my characters will throw a monkey wrench in and run off in another direction. But, I’ll admit, it makes the whole writing experience very interesting.

Do you promo your backlists when you’re writing a new book, or dedicate your time solely to writing?

I hate doing promo work, so while I dedicate a little bit of time weekly to it, I prefer to be actually writing. They say the more books you have, the easier they sell. I guess, I’ll find out if that theory holds true eventually lol.

Where can your readers reach you?

My website is the place to go to see covers, read excerpts, send me a message and link up to me on Facebook. I’m always updating it with information on upcoming releases, giveaways and more so pop on by for visit at http://www.EveLanglais.com

I’d like to thank you Rhonda for taking the time to interview me, and offer an even bigger thank you to those who took the time to read it. I wish you all happy reading. Eve :)

Blurb for Chance’s Game coming February 7th from Champagne Books

The God of Chance is bored--mortals beware!

Breanna is a rare sort of shapeshifter even for a world where magic is rampant. Rare enough that she catches the attention of the God of Chance who sends her on a quest to free magic. Simple you say? Not for this girl who has to keep avoiding the men who would claim her, while getting to know a twin she never knew she had. Then to make things even more fun, Chance throws in a super sexy wizard to go on the quest with her. As you can imagine, the outcome ends up magical.

Magic, danger, meddlesome gods and romance await Breanna and her wizard. And when their quest is done, the world as we know it will never be the same again.

I'm Being Interviewed!

I'm over visiting author Jeanne St. James today. Stop on by and say Hello!

http://jeannestjames.blogspot.com/2011/02/interview-with-lsb-author-rhonda-print.html

You can also find me over at author L.K.Below's place at

http://lbelow.blogspot.com/2011/02/m...-rhonda-l.html

Stop by this weekend, add yourself as a follower on my blog between now and February 15th and one follower will be chosen to win a FREE copy of Nightwalker, A Leah Wolfe SINS Novel!

Jeanne St. James and Double Dare

Intriguing title! Why don’t you tell us a little bit about your book!

Double Dare is an interracial ménage (m/m/f) that I had a blast writing. It’s my first interracial story and my first ménage. Here’s the blurb:

What could be better than waking up next to a hot guy? Waking up sandwiched between two of them.

Quinn Preston, a financial analyst, is not happy when her friends dare her to pick up a handsome stranger at a wedding reception. What better reason to give up men when her previous long-term relationship had not only been lackluster in the bedroom but he had cheated.

Logan Reed, a successful business owner, can’t believe that he’s attracted to the woman in the ugly, Pepto-Bismol colored bridesmaid dress. And to boot, she’s more than tipsy. After turning down her invitation for a one-night stand, he finds her in the parking lot too impaired to drive. He rescues her and takes her home. His home.

The next morning Quinn’s conservative life turns on its ear when Logan introduces her to pleasures she never even considered before. And to make things more complicated, Logan already has a lover…

Tyson White, ex-pro football player, is completely in love with Logan. He has mixed emotions when Logan brings home Quinn. But the dares keep coming and things heat up with the three of them. Nevertheless Ty wonders: will adding Quinn to the mix end up enhancing or destroying Logan’s and his relationship?

Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, BDSM theme & content, male/male sexual practices, ménage (m/m/f).

(I just love the publishers note! I get a kick every time I read it.)

Where can we buy your book?

As an e-book from Loose Id: http://www.loose-id.com/Double-Dare.aspx
Paperback: http://www.amazon.com/Double-Dare-Jeanne-St-James/dp/1607372932/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpi_2
Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Double-Dare-ebook/dp/tags-on-product/B003CT387S

Where do you find your inspiration?

Everywhere. A movie, a book, a newspaper article. Just my imagination. All I need is a seed of an idea and it just goes from there.

Where can your readers learn more about you?

My blog: http://jeannestjames.blogspot.com
My website: http://www.jeannestjames.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/jeannestjames

What are you writing now?

I have a lot of works in progress; however, I haven’t really done a lot of new writing lately. But I am actively re-writing/editing a m/f erotic romance that I’ve had sitting on the back burner. It will be the first book in a series about three brothers who are cops in a small town in northern Pennsylvania.

Do you have an excerpt from a book that you’d like to share?

EXCERPT:

Quinn Preston almost choked on her Alabama slammer when her friend elbowed her in the ribs. "Ooof."

She saved her drink before it could spill all over her ugly bridesmaid dress. Yeah, that would have been a shame: to ruin such a nice, frumpy, pukey pink taffeta dress. One the bride had said she would be able to wear in the future. Like to a cocktail party. Or maybe her own funeral. Yeah, right. No one in their right mind would want to get caught dead in this thing.

Ruining the dress wouldn't have been a loss, but losing her drink would have. She was drinking slammers for a reason -- to get good and drunk.

Lana nudged her again. "You see that?" She nodded her head toward the back of the room.

"What?" Quinn really didn't care what Lana was excited about. She just wanted to get this day over with. She was tired of watching the happy couple. She was tired of pasting on a plastic smile for the photographer. And she was really tired of listening to the sappy congratulations. All things she might never have -- the wedding, the husband, the bridal bliss. And something her parents never failed to remind her. Especially now that she was in her early thirties. And single. Again.

"Not what. Who."

"Huh?" She sucked on the dainty little straw the bartender had put in her drink. Hardly anything would come out of it. Maybe it was designed just for stirring. She pulled it out and threw it onto the bar. She really needed one of those big giant straws that came in those fancy frozen drinks.

"Him. Over there." Lana grabbed Quinn by the shoulders and turned her around to face whatever had caught her friend's attention.

"Oh, him." She took a deep draw of the punchlike drink, only there wasn't a bit of punch in it. Not the fruit kind anyway.

"Yeah, him." Lana dragged out him like she was sucking on a maraschino cherry and enjoying the sweetness on her tongue.

Quinn didn't even take a good look. Men were on her shit list at the moment. She didn't care how hot they were. The potent drink in her hands was all the company she needed. She smiled into her glass; it was the best date she'd had in a while.

Another pink taffeta blur whizzed up to them, out of breath.

"Jeez Louise. Did you see that hunk of man meat?" Paula, another victim of the wedding fashion nightmare, was flushed and had a bead of sweat running down her chipmunk-like cheeks. "Do you think he's single?"

Quinn raised one shoulder in a half shrug and turned back to the bar. It was bad enough when the three of them had to stand next to each other at the altar, then throughout the grueling pictures, followed by having to sit beside each other at the head table. All in that awful pink froth. But now that it was all over, and they had done their duty for their friend Gina, there was no reason they all had to stand there looking like someone threw up Pepto-Bismol.

She leaned into the bar and asked the semicute bartender the time. When he answered that it was six, she gritted her teeth. They had only been at the reception for an hour. It was way too early to bail.

Damn.

With a sigh, she turned back to her friends. They were still ogling the male eye candy across the room.

Paula's sigh drifted over her. "I wonder if he likes women with a little meat on their bones."

A little meat? She opened her mouth to correct Paula, but shut it quickly. Her friend didn't need to be on the receiving end of her miserable mood.

"Quinn, I bet he'd make you forget Peanut."

Quinn winced and took another long draw from her drink. She loved the flavor and the tanginess on her tongue. And she was trying to forget Peanut. She hated the nickname her friends had called her ex-boyfriend, Peter. Once they had actually called him Peanut in front of his face -- by accident, of course. Right. It had taken her a while to brush that one under the rug. He had never liked her friends after that.

On the other hand, her friends had never liked Peter from the beginning. Unlike her parents, who loved the bastard. Probably more than they loved her.

"Yeah, Quinn, he could probably fuck your brains out, and you'd never remember that douche again."

Quinn frowned at Paula. She noticed her friend's string of pearls hiding in the skin around her neck. Quinn's hands automatically went to her neck to finger a similar necklace -- a part of the stupid wedding costume. Ugh. She hated pearls!

She hated taffeta. She hated pink. She hated frilly dresses.

She took a long swig from her glass.

And she hated Peter. The asshole.

His gift to her last Valentine's Day wasn't an engagement ring. Oh no, after five long, wasted years of dating the shit, he couldn't have gotten her a ring. Nope. Instead he sent her a text message.

That was it.

A stupid little text message. One line.

We've grown apart and I've found someone new.

She deserved more than that. Something better. After all those years of loyalty, standing by his side, being the "good, proper" girlfriend. As Peter had expected. As her parents had expected. The girlfriend any decent man would want on his arm. Right?

Not even a sorry. Not even an explanation. Nothing.

And the next day, FedEx had delivered a box with all the things she had left over at his apartment during the last half decade.

Quinn emptied her glass and turned back to the bar, blocking out her friends' chattering over that man.

She needed another man like she needed a hole in the head.

She slid her glass over the bar top, and before she could ask for another, a deep voice washed over her.

"Put her next drink on me."

Dumb ass. The drinks are on the house. She turned to ream whoever it was, and stopped. Her mouth opened, but nothing escaped.

"You look like a fish out of water with your mouth hanging open like that." When he smiled, the lines around his eyes crinkled. He was tan, an outdoorsy tan, not a manmade one. And he had beautiful green eyes. Shit. She had never seen such beautiful eyes on a man. His nose was a little crooked, like it had been broken, and it made him even more beautiful. No. Not beautiful. He was. He was.

Quinn closed her mouth and swallowed hard. He was so unperfect, he was perfect. His hair was a dark brown with natural highlights, more proof he liked being outdoors. It was long and pulled back into a neat ponytail.

She hated long hair on men. But it was right on him.

He had a beard that wasn't a beard. It was like a longer five-o'clock shadow.

She hated facial hair.

He had a strong, corded neck that disappeared into a stiff dress shirt. The collar had been already released and one more button undone below that. The knot of his tie was loose and hung crookedly from around his neck.

The sleeves of his crispy white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and his forearms were tan covered in dark hair. His hands.

Oh. Damn.

His hands were large. They were working hands. They weren't soft and pampered. But calloused and thick and strong.

Capable. Capable of doing all kinds of things.

Quinn's nipples hardened under the scratchy taffeta.

His hands could do all kinds of dirty, nasty things.

Things Peter had never wanted to do.

Quinn ripped her gaze from him and spun back around to the bar, bracing herself against it for a second to catch her breath. She grabbed her fresh drink and took a gulp.

"Whoa. Slow down there."

She pressed the cold drink against her forehead in an attempt to cool herself off.

She needed to go change her panties, she was so freaking wet.

She could feel his heat next to her; his body was like a furnace. She wanted to plant her hands on his chest and feel how hot he really was. Her fingers convulsed around her glass.

"Are you okay?" The deep timbre of his voice sent a shot of lightning down her body, landing right in her pussy.

Quinn could only nod her answer.

He palmed her bare shoulder and turned her to him. He stared down into her eyes, his lips widening into a smile.

His lips. Oh man. Those lips probably could do all sorts of things to her, with her. Lips that were made for more than kissing.

"Yes." Oh my God, she thought. That was the kind of yes she blurted when she was in the midst of an orgasm. At least from what she could remember. It had been so long since she'd come.with a partner, anyway.

She felt the heat crawl up her neck, and she stepped back, breaking the contact.

"I.I'm fine." She cleared her throat. "Thank you for the drink." She took another sip before raising the glass to him in thanks.

"It was nothing." When he laughed, her knees almost buckled. "Enjoy it."

He stepped away and then paused. But it looked as though he thought better of whatever he was contemplating, and he continued on his way.

Quinn leaned back against the bar and let out a shaky breath.

She was suddenly flanked on either side by her friends. She had been so distracted, she hadn't even realized that they disappeared.

"Quinn --"

"Quinn!"

"Oh. My. God!"

"I told you he was hot!"

"Oh! I wish I weren't married already."

"I wish he liked chubby chicks."

Quinn couldn't take any more. She raised her palms in surrender. "Stop. Enough."

"But, Quinn --"

"But nothing," Quinn answered Paula.

"You're just going to let him walk away?"

"Paula, he isn't going anywhere. Unfortunately I'm not going anywhere. We have to be here for two more hours, at least."

Lana said, "Are you going to let Peter ruin the rest of your life? All men aren't assholes like him."

Quinn harrumphed and took another sip of her slammer.

"Why don't you at least dance with him?"

"No."

"Why not?" Lana asked.

Why not? Because if she did, she might come right on the dance floor? Because she might end up in a puddle of her own juices? The picture in her head shocked her: it was of her lying in a heap in the middle of the dance floor in the throes of an orgasm. Surrounded by all the wedding guests.

This drink was stronger than she thought.

"Because no one is dancing yet."

"Sure they are. Look."

Quinn glanced over at the area cleared for dancing, and sure enough, a crowd of people were out there shaking their groove thing. Quinn had been too busy trying to get her drink on to notice.

From the looks of the participants on the dance floor, a few of them had been partaking in the open bar also. Even the bride and her new husband were bouncing and shimmying in the crowd.

At least they were a happy couple.

Quinn took another drink.

Lana frowned at her. "Are you just going to drink tonight, or are you going to do something about your situation?"

"Situation? What situation?"

"Getting laid."

Quinn checked over her shoulder to see if the bartender was listening. He was. He had a big grin plastered on his face. Great.

The father of the bride came up and asked for a gin and tonic. While he was waiting, he turned to them. "Hi, girls. Enjoying yourselves? You look great in those dresses. My wife picked them out."

Oh joy. Quinn would have to remember to smack -- she meant thank -- her. She couldn't wait to rip the scratchy, ugly piece of shit off.

All three women gave him a smile but bit their tongues. Eventually he wandered away, and Lana and Paula jumped right back to harassing her. Good thing they were her friends.

"C'mon. It's not going to hurt to have a one-night stand. Look at him."

"I already saw him." Holy moley, she knew they meant well, but they were getting on her last nerve.

"Yeah, and we saw how you were drooling too."

She had not drooled. Her hand automatically went up to her mouth.

Paula said, "He probably isn't interested in you anyway."

"Yeah, you couldn't get someone like that. You attract losers like Peter," Lana said.

If they thought their reverse psychology was going to work, well, it wasn't.

"Looks like he's with Paige Reed, anyway."

Quinn's gaze shot over to the corner of the ballroom where the tall man stood next to the petite, dark-haired beauty. Paige Reed. Figures.

"I thought Paige was dating Connor Morgan," Quinn mumbled.

She must have mumbled loud enough, because Lana answered her. "She is. Connor had to fly to Australia for something to do with his job."

"So why is she with him?" Quinn asked. Why was she so curious all of a sudden? Why did she care?

She didn't. She nursed her drink. After one and a half Alabama slammers, she was starting to feel pretty tipsy. She wasn't used to drinking. And when she did drink, she usually had wine, not hard liquor, and especially not such a hard-hitting mix of liquors.

Paula leaned into the both of them and said in an exaggerated whisper, "Maybe he's an escort," like it was a scandal, and then laughed.

Maybe he was an escort.

He was probably worth every penny too.

His back was to them now, but that just gave Quinn the opportunity to study how broad those shoulders were in his dress shirt. When he moved, the fabric bunched and pulled with his muscles.

Lana gasped, jerking Quinn out of her thoughts. "He's not an escort! That's Logan Reed, Paige's brother. I haven't seen him since we were kids. Holy shit, did he grow up."

"I'll say." Paula agreed. "Quinn, I dare you to go ask him to dance."

"Not interested."

Lana joined in. "Yeah, I dare you too. Don't be a wuss."

If she were a wuss, she wouldn't have come out in public in this pink atrocity. And the matching shoes were killing her feet. The last thing she needed was to be dancing. She'd be crippled.

"That's a double dare, you know, with the two of us daring you.."

Oh, boy, a double dare. She would definitely do it now -- not. "You're crazy."

"No, you are, if you pass up this opportunity. "

"How do you know he's available?" Quinn asked them.

"You don't know until you ask him," Lana said. "But if I remember correctly, his wife left him a while ago. There had been some rumors."

There had been some rumors about her and Peter too, but rumors were just that: rumors. She didn't take any stock in them.

Paula suddenly shouted, "Truth or dare?" making Quinn jump. It was like they were teenagers all over again.

Lana quickly said, "Truth." And bounced on her toes like she was fifteen.

Jesus, would someone please put a bullet in my head? Quinn needed to be put out of her misery.

Paula asked Lana, "Do you shave or wax?"

"Shave. Okay, Quinn, your turn. Truth or dare?"

Quinn was not playing this juvenile game. It was stupid; she was not going to fall into what was clearly a trap.

"Truth."

"How bad was Peter in bed?" Lana asked.

Damn. She wasn't going to answer that one. Even as drunk as she was. She didn't want to relive their vanilla, boring lovemaking. And she definitely didn't want to admit it or talk about it.

There was only one thing left for her to do.