TRS Party Giveaways!

Enter for your chance to win books and other prizes from our participating authors! Deadline is midnight EST 7/12/14 for all entries. Click here!

TRS Tweets

Upcoming Events

Release Party @ TRS
4/26/14

Release Party @ TRS
5/10/14

Release Party @ TRS
5/24/14

A Time of Their Own — Novella 3 — A Love of His Own Excerpt

A Love of His Own“Whoa, boys.” Dipsey pulled the wagon to a stop and set the break. She hopped down, her leather boots hitting the road with a thud. Sam, the lead mule had been favoring his right front leg the past few minutes. She’d better take a look before he went lame.

“Let me see, Sam.” She lifted the mule’s big hoof and held it between her knees. “Ah, a rock. No wonder. Hurts, doesn’t it?” With a small twig, she flipped the stone out. “Now, that’ll feel better.” She let his foot drop and patted his neck. Joe snorted and butted her shoulder, so she turned and gave him a pat too. The brothers were jealous, afraid one would get more attention than the other. They were the same when it came to feeding time. She had to separate them lest they try to horn in on the other’s grub.

Dipsey walked back to the wagon and placed a foot onto the spoke of the front wheel to climb into the wagon. A snorting sound from behind her made her pause. Grabbing her rifle from under the seat, she whirled and peered into the field of winter wheat gently waving in the cool morning air. Sunlight glanced off the stalks giving the field a slight iridescence, but no movement caught her attention.

The noise stopped, then resumed with a loud bleating resonance. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Thomas was asleep in the wheat field, but she’d buried her husband two years past. Who trespassed on her land?

Rifle cocked, she stepped in the direction of the snoring. Thomas always said she could sneak up on Satan himself. She hoped her skill served her well today.

Lying on her precious wheat, breaking the stalks flat and making it useless, was a big, burly man. Wrapped in someone’s finely stitched quilt, he had a brown felt hat over his eyes. One arm lay across his chest, the other cradled a new-fangled model Winchester, so new the shine hadn’t yet worn off.

She snatched the rifle from his arm. The dang fool didn’t open his eyes. Dipsey thumped him on the shoulder with the butt of his weapon. He farted and rolled to his side exposing a muscled butt and legs encased in denims. She stumbled back a few steps. Disgusting man!

She fired off a couple of bullets sending wheat flipping into the air two yards above the man’s head. Darnit. More of her precious crop damaged. If the waste continued, her animals would go hungry this winter, and she didn’t have the money to buy feed.

The man lurched to his feet. “Holy hell.” He started toward Dipsey. “What the hell are you doing, woman?”

She cocked the rifle. “Stay put, mister.”

He halted and eyed her weapon before turning his gaze to her. His stare traveled from her boots, past her worn, brown wool dress to her face; his eyes widened when they landed on her scar. She expected to see aversion. Most people shunned her because of her past profession. If they didn’t know of her life as a whore, the ugly scar on her forehead caused them to look away. The man didn’t appear put off. He actually smiled before his expression sobered.

“Could you lower your rifle?”

She snorted. Did he think she was crazy? “Who are you and what are you doing on my land?”

“Your land? I’ll have you know….” He turned in a slow circle while taking in his surroundings. He stopped in front of her, whooped, and clutched his head. “I did it, I actually did it.”

He reached out to her, and she stumbled back. “Stay put.”

Head bobbing up and down, he asked, “Tell me, what is the date?”

Keeping the rifle aimed at his gut, she pondered his question. Some folks couldn’t keep up with the days, especially people like her who worked on their land day in and day out. Maybe he was lost and needed help finding his way. She looked him up and down. Tall and thickly built, he didn’t appear to have missed a meal. Not that he was fat, mind you. No, he carried muscle. Under his coat, she couldn’t tell if the thickness was fat or layers of clothes.

His eyes were clear, not glazed over like the man she’d seen in town several years ago. The sheriff had to send him away to some asylum as he wouldn’t keep his clothes on and scared folks with his raving. No, this man, though his elation was odd, didn’t appear deranged. He was well-groomed, his clothes clean, though from the faint odor that reached her nose, he’d been wearing them for several days.

What hair remained on his head appeared from this distance to have been dark at one time. Blue eyes pleaded with her for an answer. For an older fella, he was handsome, a quality she’d not noticed in a man for a while and shouldn’t be noticing now.

“It’s the first day of November.”

“The year lady, what’s the year?”

“Why, it’s 1892.”

He jumped into the air, clicked his heels, and yelled, “Hallelujah!”

Thank you for reading. I hope you’ve entered my contest.

Linda

Linda LaRoque
~Romance with a Twist in Time~

http://www.lindalaroque.com

http://www.lindalaroqueauthor.blogsot.com

Endless desire will bring them together one final time…This Time When We Touch – Adult

This Time When We Touch - Teaser 7

Erotic Paranormal

PRE-ORDER!

AVAILABLE: Thursday, July 17th

Offered at a 10% discount. Offer ends midnight CST, July 24th.

td-ttwwtouch (2)

Excerpt:

His dream happened without warning. A voice in it murmured, Prisa. Hurry. Tenemos tiempo tan poco. We have so little time.

In his dream, a pulse beat crazily on the side of his throat. He worked his tongue around his mouth, which was uncomfortably dry and sour, no doubt from the booze he’d drunk. Glancing around for a glass of water, Patrick realized he was in the hotel’s frontal rooms, his naked feet clammy against the highly polished floor.

No guests milled about, leaving the area strangely deserted. A haunting tune came from the piano, something ancient with a Spanish lilt, though no one sat on the bench and played.

He looked down. A whisper of air, akin to a lover’s sigh, ruffled the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck. He pushed his fingers over his skin then through his hair while he searched.

For what?

Sensing someone watching, he looked over. The music grew louder, frantic, resembling animal squeals. A sudden wind rustled the tropical plants, their swishing leaves seeming to hiss hurry.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Beneath the arched walkway, he saw her.

She stood in the light that poured from the crystal chandelier, not moving or speaking, her face unnaturally shadowed masking her features. Even so, he imagined her eyes widened in wonder and renewed hope. The kind a wife shows her husband when he returns home alive from an endless, vicious war.

Chestnut hair, thick and shiny, fell in gentle waves to her narrow waist. Every inch of her caramel-colored skin was exposed. Her areolas puckered beneath his hungry scrutiny, making the tips seem even longer and harder, intensifying the soft swell of her breasts. Her hips flared gently above her lush thighs. Dark curls covered her mound.

Dazed with desire, he knew without question that her hidden folds were thick and wet, ready for his cock.

She inhaled deeply, her rounded belly quivering in response. Three moles circled her navel. He recalled tonguing those precious spots, the salty taste of her skin, its velvety smoothness.

His inertia broke. He ran toward her only to stop as she drifted back, the shadows lifting from the bottom of her face. Her mouth formed a startled O. Arms outstretched, she clawed the air trying to reach him.

We have so little time, her voice whispered in his mind.

His heart twisted in panic. He bolted toward her, his naked toes gripping the slippery floor, his neck knotting as he strained to reach her hand.

“Prisa!” she cried in Castilian. An invisible force moved her away from him through the halls of the hotel and up the stairs.

On the third floor landing, he caught her wrist, shocked at its iciness. Her skin was so cold it stung, as though it belonged to a corpse.

Frantically, he wrapped his arms around her, warming her with his body, hands, mouth. She shivered in his embrace. He buried his fingers in her silken hair and tasted tears on her cheek. Brackish. Frightened. Defeated.

“Never leave me,” she cried, rubbing her cheek against his, her smooth skin a stark contrast to his stubble. Pressing her mouth to his ear, she hushed warm air, proving she was alive. She begged, “Promise me you’ll never go.”

He’d die first.

Capturing her mouth, he plunged his tongue inside. A groan caught in his throat at how wonderful she tasted, her fevered response. They fell on the bed in his room. The mattress shivered beneath them, its springs squealing at their weight. With his hands wrapped around her slender wrists, he dragged her arms above her head and straddled her plush body.

She purred. The shadows lifted with the sound, showing her smile.

He stared until the darkness hid her face again then parted unexpectedly to reveal her eyes. A pale green, glittering with longing and surrender. A surge of tenderness stole his breath. So did dread. He knew she loved him and sensed she shouldn’t.

She studied his expression. Alarm raced across her features before the shadow obscured them.

“Fill me,” she cried.

He wanted nothing more, yet something warned him not to. Past the window, clouds crowded the sun, hiding its golden glow. The room’s air grew dank, the silence oppressive.

Leaning up, she pressed her lips to his neck. Currents of sensation ran down his arms and across his chest, arrowing to his groin.

His head drooped between his shoulders. He fought for a full breath.

Her tongue lapped his skin. She’d freed her hands, how he didn’t know, but her fingers trailed down the sides of his torso to his naked ass. Without hesitation, she slipped her right forefinger between the seam of his buttocks, touching his anus.

Patrick lifted his head. His mouth hung opened on a satisfied groan.

“Fill me,” she coaxed, her plea breathy with desire.

He brought the tip of his cock to her opening, his crown caressed by her moist, puffy lips.

With an impatient thrust, he pierced her flesh and burrowed within her achingly hot sheath.

She wrapped her legs around his lean hips, keeping him close, preventing him from leaving.

Her breasts quivered with each of his forceful thrusts, their movements as graceful as the edge of the sea lapping the shore. He strained to catch a glimpse of her mouth, her nose, and eyes, but the shadow wouldn’t allow it, greedily hiding her face.

She cried, “More.”

Her plea blew the darkness from her mouth as though the shadow were no more substantial than smoke or fog. Its retreat didn’t last. Like persistent, rain-heavy clouds, the veil drifted back keeping her expression from him.

He pumped harder, faster, his frenzy to love and stay with her beyond control. She moaned her pleasure, her delight stoking his. He lay panting on top, his cum spurting into her, mingling with her slippery moisture.

Drained of strength, he rested his cheek on her chest, inhaling her fragrance, a curious mixture of musk, the scent of new plants, and freshly turned earth. For a breath, he pictured a mud hut, sun streaming through an opening in the thatched roof, a straw-covered floor.

Her legs tightened on his hips. She worked her inner muscles around his spent cock.

The image drifted away, refusing to return, leaving him with a puzzling sense of safety. He smiled at the music of her hammering heart and the rush of air in her lungs. And then he heard something else. A faint pounding sound, reminding him of the hut again and something else he’d forgotten.

Horses’ hooves.

His belly clenched. The sounds grew louder, telling him the riders would arrive shortly. Low murmurs followed. Men’s voices.

He wrapped his arms around her protectively.

Hot, sticky blood dirtied her body. Its coppery scent filled the room, making it impossible for him to breathe.

She screamed.

Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/this-time-when-we-touch

 

Tina Donahue Banner - newest 5 19 2014

BROUGHT TO HIS KNEES – BOXED SET (AVAIL AUG 19)

DEEP WITHIN ME (4 STARS – ROMANTIC TIMES)
SENSUAL STRANGER (BOOK OF THE YEAR 2010)
DEEP, DARK, DELICIOUS (HOLT MEDALLION AWARD OF MERIT)

Website - Twitter - FB - Pinterest - Amazon - Triberr - Newsletter

 

Sausage Queen, the video

Before I leave you to your barbecue grill and your baseball game, I’d like to show you the book trailer I made for The Sausage Queen. I’m working on my film making skills, though I don’t think Steven Spielburg has anything to worry about. Yet.

So, without further ado, here’s the trailer

http://5N5Hx4 

 

Buy a copy of the Sausage Queen

at Champagne Books

at Amazon

 

And leave a comment for a chance to win one of my romantic comedies. 

Thanks so much for dropping by! 

My sexy cyborg makes his way to #WTRAFSOG 18+ post

My sexy cyborg, Miles, is joining forces with What to Read After 50 Shades of Grey for an awesome box set at an amazing price. If you haven’t met the cyborg team yet, here’s a little more.

 

Blurb:

 

A “Cyborg” series prequel. 

 

Introducing a new series by Award Winning Author, Charity Parkerson: 

Generation Automation is upon us. The craving to own the latest and greatest technology in the name of convenience has created a world where man and machine live alongside one another in an unsteady peace. Humans still rule for now. However, an underground movement has begun that will change everything. 

For every arising enemy against humanity, a countermeasure is born–
Alexia is one of the few humans left who’d rather not have an android hanging over her shoulder all day. Unfortunately, when her job lands her on a list of people targeted by terrorists, she’s assigned a Machine Industry Leading Edge Sentinel, or “Miles,” for protection. Per Miles programming, he shouldn’t be able to override Alexia’s commands. However, he defies her at every turn. The lines between reality and fantasy blur as Alexia’s attraction for the mysterious android grows. Unfortunately, when she goes on a mission to seek the truth, what she learns might get her killed.

Excerpt: 

 

The first half of the drive home was unpleasant. Not for the experience itself, since Miles was programmed to be the perfect motorist. It was due to Alexia mentally kicking her own ass. How could she be so stupid? Miles had never harmed her in any way. She’d simply been taken by surprise, and Alexia couldn’t even blame that part on Miles. It was fear of her reaction to him. He was a machine. A giant walking, talking vibrator. Women didn’t have feelings for their nightstand filled with naughty toys. She shouldn’t care about Miles any more than she did her car. Her vehicle was a necessary tool that belonged to her. It would piss her off if someone stole it. That was all, except Miles wasn’t an “it,” not to her. She was such an idiot.
“You are sad,” Miles said, breaking into her inner berating. “I will fix you.”
In spite of herself, she giggled. “How do you intend to ‘fix’ me?” She even did the quotey fingers as she asked the question to emphasize her point.
“You laughed. Therefore, I have already done so.” His eyes never left the road, nor did his expression change. However, Alexia got the impression he was playing with her. She tested the theory. “You couldn’t have known I would. Therefore, you must’ve had an initial plan.”
“There were two possible contingencies,” he admitted.
“I’m waiting with bated breath.” She held her breath in case he meant to stall her by pointing out her vitals showed no such thing.
“Option one consists of joke telling.”
“I like this. Let’s hear it then.”
“There once was a man from Nantucket.”
Reaching over, she covered his mouth with her hand, roaring with laughter. His lips touched her palm, lingering. The sound died in her throat. Even though she didn’t want to, she moved away. The silence was too loud.

Buy links for Inoperative

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

iTunes

All Romance Ebooks

Audible

Buy Links for What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection #3

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

iTunes

Kobo

Lisa Suzanne interviewed me about my work:

Tell us a little about the book you have included in the What to Read after FSOG Gemstone Collection Three.

Sure. This is a science fiction erotic story. Technology has moved to the point where everyone owns a helper bot the same as people would own a cell phone nowadays. Alexia hasn’t truly embraced the technology. It’s hard for her to interact with something that looks and acts so similar to a human. Unfortunately, her work for the government has landed her at the top of a terrorist hit list and she’s been assigned an android for her protection. Having Miles in her home as reinforced every belief she’s had about androids feeling too real for her peace of mind. His hot glances and refusal to follow her commands only make matters worse, but Miles is more than he seems. 

Is this book part of a series?

Yes, The “Cyborg” series.

Do you have any other books that you have published?

I have close to 50 titles available.

When and why did you start writing?

I wrote really bad poetry that—thankfully—became lost over the years. Shortly after my youngest was born, I had a reoccurring dream that wouldn’t leave me alone until I wrote it down. From there, it became an entire underground world of black ops and paranormal. I haven’t stopped writing since.

How long does it take you to write a book?

It depends on how motivated I am. I’ve had books pour out me and deadlines I thought I wouldn’t make.

Are your characters or stories based on real people or completely made up? Every character comes from some place. Sometimes they are bits and pieces of people I know. Other times, I’ve dreamed them up.

Do your character names just come to you? Or do you have to think about them? Character names can be harder than people realize. They’re important and at times I’ve had to do a ton of research to decide on a name befitting of the time period.

How do you come up with your titles?

I’m horrible at titles! There’s been a few that were awesome, but I’ve never been able to decide how I can go so right with one title and so wrong with the next.

Is there a routine you have before you settle down to write?

No, not a routine as much as a schedule. I’ve been writing for 3 years full-time. The first year I got less writing accomplished than when I worked full-time outside the home. Finally, I had to set a schedule for myself and make myself stick to it. Now, no matter how I feel, I write from 10am – 3 pm.

Does your family know what you write?

Oh yeah. They’re amazing and very supportive.

What would you do if your grandmother said she wanted to read your book? 

Ha! My grandmother has read my book. Her exact words were, “I have to read this. Maybe I can learn a trick or two.”

 

While You Write:

Favorite Snack Food? Chocolate

Drink of Choice? Coffee

Music or Silence? Music

Biggest Distraction? Email notifications

 

LIGHTNING ROUND
Favorite Game Show?
 Family Feud. Do that still come on? lol

Favorite Reality Show? I don’t care for reality shows

Favorite 90s Band? Aerosmith

Whiskey or Vodka? Vodka

Favorite Song? Closer by NIN

 

Favorite book growing upPippi Longstocking

Check out all three of my posts today. I’ll be awarding 3 people and e-copy of Inoperative: Cyborg One for commenting on my posts.

Unequaled (18+ post)

No Rival, book 3

Kerry has hated Rhys from the moment she set eyes on him. They’ve never had an encounter that didn’t end with them both enraged. Paired up at his brother’s wedding, their clashing personalities come to a head and a daring wager is made. Rhys agrees to submit to Kerry for a single evening if she will do the same. Considering the sexual flavors Rhys has enjoyed in his past, it’s one bet Rhys is sure he can’t lose. But Kerry has a few secrets of her own and her plans for him land Rhys in a place he never expected, the arms of sexy Italian solicitor, Asher D’Ettore.

Asher becomes an obsession Rhys can’t shake. His alpha ways and confident mannerisms render all of Rhys’ usual charm useless. With his hard-earned reputation in the media spotlight, Rhys is forced to make a choice between his public persona and true love.

Inside Scoop: This sexy tale includes graphic sexual male on male encounters and fetish club references which could have you searching for one in your area.

A Romantica® contemporary erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

 

Ellora’s Cave

Goodreads

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Kobo

Excerpt:

 

The moment he spotted Rhys, Asher straightened away from the vehicle. “I wasn’t ignoring you.” His eyes weren’t cool any longer. Rhys struck without thought, crowding him against the door of his truck. He didn’t give a shit who was watching as he flattened his palms against the sun-warmed steel on either side of Asher.

“I know you’re not.”

The wave of raw lust rolling off Asher’s body punched him in the gut. “I didn’t wish to embarrass you by openly acknowledging you. Now, I see you’re not bothered.”

“Really?” Rhys could hear the sarcastic note in his voice, but his temper wouldn’t allow him to stop. He ran his gaze over Asher’s expensive clothing. “I got the impression you were merely slumming it with me. Perhaps you’re the one who is embarrassed.”

Asher’s entire demeanor changed in an instant at the accusation. “Ah. I see.” He stepped out his hold, leaving Rhys no choice except to let him go, or physically restrain him. Rhys watched him walking away. The confidence in Asher’s stride held Rhys’ attention much longer than it should.

Before Asher could get too far away to fix things, Rhys spoke up, stopping him. “I’m sorry.”

In a flash, Asher managed to reverse their roles. The solid door came against Rhys’ back as the pissed off man went nose to nose with him. “Do you know what your problem is?” Without waiting for an answer, Asher added. “You’re obviously used to dealing with people who are weak, and I am anything but. I happen to know my worth. If you ever figure out yours then you know where to find me.”

Pushing away from the truck, he left Rhys alone and speechless. Not to mention, his dick was now hard as a rock. Holy hell. The smell of Asher’s cologne hung in the air. The accent, damn, he’d forgotten what the sound of it did to him. With a curse, he pushed away from the truck. There wasn’t any sense in staying here any longer. The moment the door closed behind him, he froze. How had Asher known which vehicle belonged to him? It was one question he might not ever get an answer to, since it seemed he’d fucked everything up.

Book 1: Unsurpassed

Book 2: Undaunted

Check out all my posts today. Everyone who comments on one of my posts will be entered to win one of three e-copies of my book, Inoperative: Cyborg One. 

 

 

 

Adult Excerpt from Sweet Spot by Lucy Felthouse

Hi everyone,

Me again :D. This time I’m sharing an adult excerpt from Sweet Spot, my F/F sports romance, which is an All Romance eBooks bestseller! It’s book two in the Raw Talent series.

*****

Sweet SpotI gave over everything to what I was doing—full concentration, full effort on making the beautiful woman above me come all over my face. I couldn’t get enough of her—her heat, her indescribably gorgeous taste, the way she moaned and bucked her hips, forcing her cunt harder onto me, all of it. Lapping at her juices, I hummed with pleasure as the flavor coated my tongue, exploded over my taste buds. Wanting more, so much more, I curled my tongue up at its edges and pushed it deep inside her, as far as it would go. I wiggled it, thrust it, tickled at her inner walls until I had to pull away to breathe.

Drawing in a deep breath, I immediately continued, closing my lips around her distended bud and sucking it, lightly at first, then harder and harder until I suspected that the sensation for Nadia was hovering somewhere between extreme pleasure and extreme pain. Careful to ensure I stayed on the right side of that delicate balance, I released some of the pressure, ever so slightly, and focused on bringing her to orgasm as quickly and as beautifully as possible. I sucked, licked, nibbled and laved at her bud and the surrounding area, taking immense enjoyment from the sounds she made, the way she jerked her hips, the free-flowing liquid that trickled from her core. The only thing that could have made the experience better was her climax, and it was imminent.

Shifting one of my hands from where it still held her swollen outer lip, I slipped my first two fingers into her cunt. I moaned against her clit, the vibrations causing her to do the same, the sound audible even over the din from the shower. God, she was hot. Literally. The soft, wet heat of her clenching around my fingers was amazing. With a movement of my wrist, I got my hand into a position where I could finger fuck her, pressing up against her G-spot with each thrust.

It worked. As my mouth continued to work on her clit, my digits played inside her, stretching, curving, stimulating. Her G-spot swelled and, judging by the way she gasped and growled every time I bumped against it, grew more sensitive. Changing tactics, I stopped screwing her and started stroking the spongy bundle of flesh, pressing and rubbing it as I sucked her clit into my mouth once more.

Seconds later my attentions had the desired effect and she came undone. Her body stiffened and she fell utterly silent for a beat. Then she climaxed, hard. Her cunt contracted so forcefully it pushed my fingers almost out of her, followed by a squirt of ejaculate that covered my hand and arm. Just when I’d thought she couldn’t be any more amazing, she’d gone and squirted. Wow.

Backing away, still on my knees, I looked up, watching as she rode out her orgasm. Mercifully, despite her body’s powerful reaction, she wasn’t too loud. Either that or she too was aware that even though there weren’t many people about, there was still a chance someone would hear us.

Her back bowed, eyes rolled back in her head, chest heaved, swollen lips parted. There were spots of high color on her cheeks. Her hands clawed, scrabbling at the wall behind her. Her legs looked as though they were working hard to keep her upright. I didn’t think I’d ever seen anything so beautiful in my life.

*****

More info and buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/sweet-spot/

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21521972-sweet-spot

*****

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Canes and Scales by S.A. Garcia — Excerpt 5

CanesandScales_small_coverThis fifth excerpt from Canes and Scales: The Novel, is filled with dread. What happens next? Welcome to the torment of dark elven bane magic.

Comment in order to win a copy of Canes and Scales: the Novel!

 

BLURB:

Serpent Prince Linden of Ardaul is determined to drag his barbaric, power-hungry country into the modern age by encouraging learning, advances in the sciences, and tolerance. His insane brother Edward, the King, delights in making him pay for his efforts.

Long years of watching his back, fighting wars, and solving conflicts started by his cruel brother have taken a toll on Linden’s body and mind, and he needs a respite. When Linden meets an alluring young bed slave named Alasdaire, his weary heart responds. Alasdaire is an exotic mix of southern royal Totandian elf and human, and, although he’s also suffered hardship most of his life, his loving personality captivates the Prince.

Despite their differences, Alasdaire, canes—and Linden, scales—unite in body and soul, but their romance is nearly shattered by betrayal. When Linden becomes King, magical assassins, treachery, and threats plague them. They narrowly escape death more than once. The lovers must discover who wants them dead and more importantly, where they can turn for aid. Neither enemies nor allies are what they seem. Only time will tell who means to harm Linden and Alasdaire—the elves, the imprisoned Edward, or something even deadlier—and time is one thing they don’t have.

 

ALASDAIRE:

Gay activity filled the crowded ballroom. Two wild dances I did not recognize passed before us. The dancers moved in kinetic loops. Tonight the music sounded jagged, more feral than what I had heard at Keith’s manor.

I leaned against Linden’s shoulder. “My love, I do not recognize these odd dances. Are they from another country?”

He gestured toward the moving gaiety. “Ah, these are traditional folk dances from the time of the battle of Adwurtein, which was a mighty win for Ardaul five hundred years ago. Imagine, my social advisor Sir Newton took my ball request seriously and scheduled these dances. At the battle of Adwurtein, the mighty Serpent strangled what used to be Istarnor and added the country to the growing collection. Now Istarnor is a peaceful Ardaul province, supplying fertile ground for needed crops along with a prime port. They are part of the Pastures.”

“Oh. How lovely.”

He gripped my thigh again. “Blast, Ala, forgive my unthinking statement.”

“Why should I forgive you? See, at least under your fair and benevolent rule, Hast’ntrata will continue to exist on her own. Someday I might visit there without fear of their reaction to my mixed heritage.” I sighed and shook my head. “Doubtful, but take heart, your rule should impress on other countries that Ardaul isn’t dedicated to relentless destruction.”

His inquisitive stare swept over my sharp smile. Linden pursed his lips and returned to his eating.

I had not intended to insult him. I sensed his years as Ardaul’s royal war hero had made him sensitive about destruction. Instead of asking for forgiveness, I nibbled a truffle and scallop pâté nested in a puff pastry shell. Delicious. Tonight little descriptions sat on the plates, so I knew what I was eating.

I watched the nobles battle decoratively on the dance floor. The old dances provided a barbaric flair, featuring arm flailing and plenty of foot stomping. The dances reminded me more of ancient mating rituals best conducted around a blazing fire.

I concentrated on ignoring the bizarre shadows. They collected even closer to me. Could I banish them? How? I couldn’t stand and try my limited elven magic during a royal ball.

A crashing crescendo ended the barbaric music.

Linden applauded the dancer’s efforts. I sipped my wine.

After the dancing, the small orchestra played soothing background music. Linden blew an exasperated sigh against my cheek. “Ala, tell me what is wrong. Your discomfort pushes at me. Why won’t you tell me what is the matter? What do you sense? Tell me already.”

“Fine, yes, something is amiss, but I don’t know what!” I blinked. “You want the truth? Everything in this room threatens me. I see things that cannot

exist in the logical world lurking in the shadows—in fact, shadows exist where none should be. Strange magic hammers at my soul.”

Linden gently grasped my chin. He looked sorrowful. “Then please leave. Abandon the search. I do not want you hurt.”

I could barely form words. The magic ate at my senses. “I fear if I abandon this search something awful will happen. Please don’t send me away, Linden. I need to be here.”

Duchess Curselean appeared by my side. She smiled as she held out her hands to me. “Dear Alasdaire, will you be my partner in the next festive line dance?”

“Yes, of course.” I stood, barely remaining upright. I glanced over to see a regal young lady I did not recognize inviting Linden to the dance floor. Ah, Lady Aless had arrived for her dance. Linden gazed at me with concern until I nodded.

Sickness welled within me. I blurted out a flimsy excuse. “Forgive my nerves, Duchess, but I am not a skilled dancer.”

Alicia squeezed my fingers. “Do not worry, my friend, this is a simple country line dance. I promise to guide you.”

What could I do, rebuff her and create a scene? Perhaps the dancing would confuse the evil shadows gathering around me. After all, hadn’t I come here to touch the nobles? I bowed with stiff acceptance, and let Alicia escort me to the dance floor. Linden stood alongside me across from his partner. Of course, the king would start the dance.

He leaned close. “Are you sure you can do this?”

“Yes.” I looked down the double line. To my horror, the shadows intensified around certain laughing nobles. Before I could run, the orchestra surged into the opening notes announcing the dance. Linden bowed, grasped his partner’s hands, and darted between the double row of clapping nobles. He rolled his broad shoulders. The music captivated him until Linden forgot himself and moved using his customary grace. Caution, my love, caution! When the pair reached the end, I accepted Alicia’s gloved hands in mine and started down the row.

Suddenly the shadows transformed into huge gray snakes. The scaled beasts lunged at our light movement. Terror filled my mind. I halted and almost pulled Alicia to the parquet floor. Hissing snakes crowded around me. I released Alicia and waved my hands against the air. “No! This is not real. I refute what I see.”

Despite my wild protests, the salivating serpents crowded around me. I fell to the floor bellowing like a raving madman, waving my fists against their attack. A fierce golden serpent clad in a festive blue-and-gold suit lunged down at me.

“Ala! Ala, what is wrong?” The words sounded concerned. He tricked me into not pushing him away.

Linden slashed his venom-dripping fangs into my chest. The sharp tips ripped open my clothing. The fangs dug into my flesh, deeper, deeper, until they released burning poison into my body. Fire raced through my veins, seeking to scorch me from within. Pungent putrefaction spread across my wounded chest. I smelled my rotting flesh. Numbness attacked my hips, the sensation swirling down into my legs, halting my attempt to scramble away.

I desperately pummeled my fists against his head. “Stop! Linden, stop hurting me! Stop! Leave me alone. This cannot be happening!”

He hissed at me. A rank stench of decay and despair swirled around me. Pain released a thousand deadly arrows into my flesh. My skin continued blackening and bubbling. Decomposing strips sloughed off my hands.

I was rotting. I screamed as pain defeated my senses. I knew this could not be real, not unless I had gone insane in a blink….

I fell into blackness.

 

Who is S.A. Garcia?

Forty years ago, I started writing gay male romance. Writing about men inserting tab A into slot B didn’t seem the norm for a suburban female teenager. Reading Gordon Merrick, John Rechy, and Larry Kramer helped me fill in the serious informational gaps. Yes, I read those informative books in my bedroom. No wonder.

As the years progressed, I continued writing gay male romance, although the stories progressed from scribbles in notebooks to hiding on the computer. I wrote fantasies, contemporaries, bodice rippers—my muse Diva Faboo refused to let this old lesbian write a F/F romance. Go figure. Someday!

I’m glad I kept the writing faith. I never thought anyone would published my novels. Imagine, my comedy An Elf for All Centuries (formerly from Silver Publishing; now in talks for a new home) was in the running for a few awards. What a thrill!

My life has turned into a fun quandary of too many stories hindered by my slow, two-fingered typing skills. I blunder onward into more trauma, drama, and humor. I just hope I can keep up with sexy men who insist on running off with the plots!

Along with Canes and Scales: the Novel, Dreamspinner is also home to my novellas, assorted short stories, short stand-alones and the M/M romdramedys (romance/ drama comedy) Cupid Knows Best and The Gospel According to Cher.

Love in the Shadows, my first attempt at mixing M/M historic and contemporary with a touch of the supernatural, is at MLR Press.

You can find out more about me at my blog and website.

Facebook: S.A. Garcia

Twitter: SAGarcia_Writer

 

Shifter Stories Sale and Contest

From July 10-13, several authors in the Wolf Pack, including me, have put their shifter stories on sale for 99 cents and have a contest with over $200 in prizes, including a Amazon Kindle HD and several Amazon gift cards. The info is in my latest newsletter:

wolf pack

 

Sign up for my newsletter to hear of new releases and other contests / specials!

 

Dark Velvet is on sale for only 99 cents this weekend. Get it today before the price goes back up.

“Dark Velvet has a dark eroticism that makes you want to be Savannah. It is a book that is a good, quick and darkly thrilling read.” 

Dark Velvet is the start of a new series, paranormal erotic romances set at art colony on a remote New England island. It’s new adult with gothic elements at a castle.

Dark Velvet

Lisa Carlisle

Chateau Seductions series

DarkVelvetGrad student Savannah Evans is thrilled to be accepted as a resident to a prestigious art colony. Where else would she be able to focus on her craft of writing poetry in a setting like that of the medieval-styled castle? The remote New England island is a respite from her hectic city life. When she meets her benefactor, a mysterious French sculptor, her expectations for carefree days writing near the ocean are distracted by unprofessional fantasies about her sponsor.

Antoine Chevalier built Les Beaux Arts on DeRoche Island to bring purpose back to an existence that has lost meaning. He’s wandered the earth for decades and finds solace in returning to art. When Savannah applies for a residency, something about her words touches him. After her arrival, a physical attraction grows between them, which he struggles against. She deserves more than someone of his kind.

Antoine proposes they become lovers during her stay. But the situation turns complicated when Savannah discovers his secret. She had suspicions about his identity, but finds the truth overwhelming. Consumed by her desire for Antoine and faced with a tough decision, she is blind to the danger that has arrived at DeRoche Island.

New adult erotic romance
Paranormal / gargoyle / vampire / shapeshifter

“…insanely hot chemistry between the female protagonist Savannah & vampire Antoine.  Their intensity starts off right away and you’re not a chapter in before it takes off like a rocket!”

“Sexy, dark, full of intrigue, art, and paranormal sexiness, Dark Velvet has it all in one hot package!”

“An Enchanting Story, as rich and sexy as Dark Velvet  - This is a seductive Gothic tale that will draw you in from the first page.”

Buy links:

Amazon
B&N

Learn more or read an excerpt at lisacarlislebooks.com

 

Connect with Lisa

Facebook

Twitter

Pinterest

Goodreads

Canes and Scales by S.A. Garcia — Excerpt 4

In this Canes and Scales: the Novel excerpt, the power of the elves tries to make Alasdaire accept his destiny. He ignores the message, much to his later regret.

If you read the novella Canes and Scales, you only experienced part of the romance. Canes and Scales: the Novelsweeps the reader further into Linden and Alasdaire’s spellbinding relationship. Except for their love, nothing is as it seems.

 

BLURB:

Serpent Prince Linden of Ardaul is determined to drag his barbaric, power-hungry country into the modern age by encouraging learning, advances in the sciences, and tolerance. His insane brother Edward, the King, delights in making him pay for his efforts.

Long years of watching his back, fighting wars, and solving conflicts started by his cruel brother have taken a toll on Linden’s body and mind, and he needs a respite. When Linden meets an alluring young bed slave named Alasdaire, his weary heart responds. Alasdaire is an exotic mix of southern royal Totandian elf and human, and, although he’s also suffered hardship most of his life, his loving personality captivates the Prince.

Despite their differences, Alasdaire, canes—and Linden, scales—unite in body and soul, but their romance is nearly shattered by betrayal. When Linden becomes King, magical assassins, treachery, and threats plague them. They narrowly escape death more than once. The lovers must discover who wants them dead and more importantly, where they can turn for aid. Neither enemies nor allies are what they seem. Only time will tell who means to harm Linden and Alasdaire—the elves, the imprisoned Edward, or something even deadlier—and time is one thing they don’t have.

 

Alasdaire:

A LARGE raven flew toward the window to rest on the outer sill. How unusual. I peered down at the glossy black bird. “Do you bid me farewell?”

The lustrous bird stretched his wings and cawed at me. It prodded the glass with its beak, tapping down to where the narrow window opening received the cool morning air. Did the raven intend to enter the room?

One beady eye regarded me with what seemed like watchful urgency. “Caw-caw, caw-caw.” The bird ducked his beak down to dart between the window sash and the inner sill. The raven tilted his head again.

I swore he stared at me. Natural intelligence shone in his round eyes.

Impossible. Why did I know the raven was male?

Unreasonable annoyance made me react. I stepped forward and clapped my hands. “Begone, black one. Be gone!” I stomped my foot, hoping to warn him off.

The raven cawed again. He pecked the inner sill until his beak dented the polished wood.

I slapped my palm against the large windowpane, using too much strength. “Do not plague me!”

The raven opened and closed his beak with silent consideration until he wheeled off to join the other sleek black shapes soaring over the land. His last caw scolded me.

A shiver slithered down my spine. Had I missed a strange message?

Nonsense. My imagination adored teasing my common sense. Two weeks spent with Linden had scrambled my logic. We had made love in Alasdairean every single afternoon. We even stayed overnight, cuddled close while Linden enjoyed his pipe weed. Afterward, we slept under the stars. What a magical time.

When the realm demanded his return, I wanted to murder everyone. Today found me unsettled and cranky, although I hid my foul mood from Linden.

My king needed to rule. I needed to follow him.

Watching the ravens performing their ancient spiral air dance prompted another bleak memory regarding the sun. The first time I had watched the golden summer sun set over the distant mountains, I had bled from wounds inflicted by a noble’s belt buckle.

I remembered the noble pig’s name. Duke Erik Schloss, a cruel old man who punished any perceived slight. When I had refused to pleasure him with my mouth, he had thrust me to the floor, grabbed his belt, and whipped my back. The rage in me had almost forced me to reach up and turn his belt against him. Instead, I had curled on the floor, helpless, subservient—a craven thing designed to endure punishment. On that wretched day, I remembered my bleak place in the world.

I remembered what Lord Keith had told me about quelling my temper.

I had succumbed to being nothing.

I had succumbed many times.

Yet every noble pig’s name dwelled in my small notebook. Keeping track of the nobles who had abused me had granted me a focal point for my hatred. I should burn the damned notebook. Instead I had packed it.

I wondered why. What, would I read it to remind myself of former abuses?

The name Eldon Lynnald also held a special place in my pain pantheon. He had acted kind and gentle until he had opened a flat leather case. No, he still acted gentle when he had tied me up using his custom leather restraints and placed a soft leather ball into my mouth. When he swung his shattered-crystal-encrusted cat-o’-nine-tails against my back, his gentle nature vanished into the sullen air. Afterward he had kissed and licked my bleeding wounds while begging for my forgiveness.

To my dismay, I learned Lynnald appreciated my exotic looks. The wretched noble had requested me each time he stayed at Keith’s manor. Each time Lynnald explained to me how he needed an outlet for his mad passion. He abused me to keep sane.

The ravens swooped close. One seemed to nod at me. Something did call to me.

Not today. I refused to answer. Instead, I concentrated on crushing grim memories, making them small and easy to throw away. None of those decadent nobles would ever use me again. Linden had freed me for all time.

I needed to focus on Linden. He needed me more than he understood.

This morning I savored the first seeking rays illuminating the far mountains. Each tendril of light painted a sharp bright line over the stone. The lines intensified. Morning sun owned such a rich texture, bold and certain in its first strokes.

The ravens danced in black warning.

No. I refuted their dance.

Did the sun glow with happiness for me? I thought yes. Today a dear king swept me away from my former sexual prison. He would sweep me away from the ravens and craven nobles who needed to abuse another’s flesh to remain sane.

What a momentous event—Rahalda’s royal glory awaited me. In four days, I would live in the Serpent Palace.

What a daunting prospect.

When I shivered with anticipation, my mother’s pure love tingled down my spine. She still hoped I would find love and happiness.

I possessed both in splendid amount. My sweet mother felt proud of me. Her gentle presence haunted me in a comforting manner. Elven spiritual ties were hard to break, even after death. I nodded. “Yes, Mother, we seem to have won.”

I smiled. The sun’s full force had defeated the mountain’s shadowy fissures. Golden light washed heavy over the stern rock. Even the shadowy ravens soaring on the air drafts seemed stroked by gilt and light.

Behind me, quick, confident footsteps entered the suite. I didn’t turn around. When adoring hands massaged my shoulders, I leaned back into the pressure.

Linden’s warm breath fanned my hair. A faint licorice scent wafted around me. He did love his black licorice. I learned he always hid a few parchment-wrapped treats in his pockets. “Time to depart, my love. Will you miss this special view?”

“Not at all.” I shrugged. “I should, because the sight provided the backdrop for our romance. Still, now too many new and exciting views open to me.”

He squeezed my arm muscles. “Once again I apologize for our hasty departure. I was foolish to think I could remain away from court for too long. The new systems I’m creating suffer from too much turmoil. The unruly noble children need their royal father to scold them into playing nice with each other. Sometimes I understand why Edward acted like a monster.”

“At least we enjoyed two blissful weeks together. Our time defined our love. I’m not unhappy, not at all. Now I will be with you for all time.”

I twisted in his light embrace. Each time I viewed Linden’s gaunt, intelligent face, my love for him strengthened. Silly, but true. I ran my fingers through his hair. “Are you prepared to suffer my relentless love?”

Linden’s crooked grin reinforced my desire. “Suffer? I never suffer your love. No, I celebrate what devotion you offer me.” Linden trailed demanding kisses over my face. He even kissed the wretched scars snaking across my ruined cheek. “Come, my elf. Your new home awaits you.”

“As you command, Sire.”

Just as I had hoped, Linden mock-scowled at me. “If you call me Sire, even in jest, I’ll deny you my royal favors.”

“Please, then I will call you tyrant.”

“What a sharp-tongued elf. You need scolding kisses.” He launched fresh kisses against my lips. We kissed until he leaned away from me. He ran his right

palm up and down my bicep. “As much as I want to rip off our clothing and continue our delicious play, it’s time to begin our journey to your new home.”

“As long as I am with you, I do not care where I travel.”

“That’s a marvelous attitude. I will keep it in mind in case I need to travel somewhere odious like Intainatar. Last time I was there, the people threw rotten tomatoes at my carriage. How cliché.” Linden grinned at the memory. He tugged at my fingers. “Come, my love, let us be off.

 

Who is S.A. Garcia?

Forty years ago, I started writing gay male romance. Writing about men inserting tab A into slot B didn’t seem the norm for a suburban female teenager. Reading Gordon Merrick, John Rechy, and Larry Kramer helped me fill in the serious informational gaps. Yes, I read those informative books in my bedroom. No wonder.

As the years progressed, I continued writing gay male romance, although the stories progressed from scribbles in notebooks to hiding on the computer. I wrote fantasies, contemporaries, bodice rippers—my muse Diva Faboo refused to let this old lesbian write a F/F romance. Go figure. Someday!

I’m glad I kept the writing faith. I never thought anyone would published my novels. Imagine, my comedy An Elf for All Centuries (formerly from Silver Publishing; now in talks for a new home) was in the running for a few awards. What a thrill!

My life has turned into a fun quandary of too many stories hindered by my slow, two-fingered typing skills. I blunder onward into more trauma, drama, and humor. I just hope I can keep up with sexy men who insist on running off with the plots!

Along with Canes and Scales: the Novel, Dreamspinner is also home to my novellas, assorted short stories, short stand-alones and the M/M romdramedys (romance/ drama comedy) Cupid Knows Best and The Gospel According to Cher.

Love in the Shadows, my first attempt at mixing M/M historic and contemporary with a touch of the supernatural, is at MLR Press.

You can find out more about me at my blog and website.

Facebook: S.A. Garcia

Twitter: SAGarcia_Writer

Contest!!

Would you like to WIN one of FIFTEEN EROTIC ROMANCES?

All you have to do is this:

Simply go to my FB fanpage and like it – which enters you in my contest – https://www.facebook.com/TinaDonahueBooks.  Or go to my Amazon page and like it: https://www.amazon.com/author/tinadonahue. Or add me to your circles on Google+:  plus.google.com/104515140444961029604. If you’ve already done all of this – wow, I love you – but you can still enter by signing up for my monthly newsletter (free reads, hot guys, contest) and you’ll be entered: http://www.tinadonahue.com/newsletter/ 

Winner chosen at random.

Winner gets to choose one of my ebooks romances from this list. List include paranormal, contemporary, menage, suspense:

1. Adored – RWA award-winning; EPIC 2011 Finalist; 4 Stars RT

2. Deep, Dark, Delicious – EPIC 2011 Finalist; Holt Medallion Award of Merit

3. Lush Velvet Nights – EPIC 2011 Finalist; Golden Nib Award

4. In His Arms – SIX 5 Star Reviews; 4 Stars RT

5. Sensual Stranger – 2010 Book of the Year (erotic); 4 Stars RT

6. The Yearning – Top Ten Bestseller

7. Take Me Away – #1 Pick, Miz Love Loves Books

8. Unending Desire – Best Book Rating LASR

9. SiNN – Nominated for Book of the Week LASR

10. Sinfully Wicked – Magnificent – Romancing the Book

11.  Claiming Magique – Top Pick – NOR

12. Illicit Desire – Four Stars Romantic Times

13. Come Fill Me – Five Stars – Guilty Pleasures

14. Losing Control – Four and a Half Stars – Sensual Reads

15. Shameless Desire – Four and Half Stars – The Jeep Diva

 

Check out all of the above titles at: http://www.tinadonahue.com/books/ (click on the book covers to the right on that page and they’ll take you where you need to be). :)

Good luck!

  

Tina Donahue Banner - newest 5 19 2014

BROUGHT TO HIS KNEES – BOXED SET (AVAIL AUG 19) 
DEEP WITHIN ME (4 STARS – ROMANTIC TIMES)
SENSUAL STRANGER (BOOK OF THE YEAR 2010)
DEEP, DARK, DELICIOUS (HOLT MEDALLION AWARD OF MERIT) 

Website - Twitter - FB - Pinterest - Amazon - Triberr - Newsletter

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 63,970 other followers