Thursday, January 29, 2009

Interview With A Hero: Ryder, Earl of Stafford

Captain Ryder Montgomery, now known as the Earl of Stafford, from my Regency novella, Her Captain Returns, has been so kind today to let me question him for my “Interview With A Hero” series. I must say he is impeccably dressed, and his clothes fit his form to perfection.

Eliza Knight: Welcome Ryder! Thank you so much for joining me this evening. Can I offer you a glass of brandy?

Ryder: *Chuckles* Why do I have a feeling I’m going to need it?

EK: *Pouts and flutters lashes* Oh, come now, it won’t be so bad. (But oh, how wish it would be…)

R: *Winks* No, it shall be quite a pleasure for me. I am eager to meet your readers, and I hope my story tantalizes them as much as it has me.

EK: I think they are just as eager to meet you. So, Ryder, can you tell us a little about yourself?

R: *Sits back, crossing one muscular leg over his knee at the ankle, arms spread back over the couch, stretching his dress shirt across his sinewy chest* Where shall I begin? I am 31, retired from Royal Navy. My ship was The Conqueror, which now belongs to a good friend of mine, Captain Williams, whom I believe the lovely Eliza has written a story about?

EK: Yes, I have, the third Captain book, but please do go on…

R: I am a little over six feet tall, blond hair and hazel eyes. And I have this cleft here in my chin, that Corinne loves to dip her dainty pointer finger in. *chuckles* I’ve taken my seat in Parliament, and I am extremely, utterly and madly in love with my wife.

EK: That is so sweet! I’m curious, with all the balls and decadent dinners I’m sure you attend, how do keep in such tip top shape?

R: *Crooked grin* Riding horses, Eliza, among other things…

EK: *Raises eyebrow* Other things?

R: *Winks* A gentleman never kisses and tells.

EK: Well, I suppose not. But I think I can take a guess. *Smiles* What is your favorite thing to do, now that you aren’t always occupied with life at sea?

R: Wouldn’t you like to know?

EK: I thought a gentleman never kisses and tells?

R: *laughs* Touché!

EK: Do you miss being out to sea?

R: I miss the fresh salty air, and the thrill of it. But to be perfectly honest, I rather enjoy being home with my wife. She is rather, uh, entertaining.

EK: *Looks around to make sure Corrine’s not within earshot* I know you said you don’t kiss and tell, but I have to ask, what is your favorite-position?

R: *Devilish grin slowly curls his lips* Position? Whatever do you mean Eliza?

EK: *blushes crimson* You know what I mean?

R: *Laughs aloud, and crosses arms over expansive chest* I find it most exciting to make love in a carriage—any position.

EK: *fans self energetically* And you will satisfy the readers with a couple of those scenes. Do you have a question for our readers?

R: Oh, yes I do. How would you want to be seduced if the hero in your life was gone for a long period of time, only to return unexpectedly with wooing in mind?

EK: Great question Ryder! I can answer this one. My darling husband was in the Navy and away on a ship for six months – I know I know, pitiable compared to your eight years Ryder—but all he had to do when I saw him again was smile and I melted like molten lava.

R: I bet you did, I’ve seen your husband.

EK: Lol, naughty naughty! Thanks for being here with us today!

R: Thank you, my darling lady.

I hope you enjoyed the interview! Next up is Ian from Lady In A Box, coming early-February.


Wednesday, January 28, 2009

The Grammar Guru

Ah, at last I have a request for clarification! Kate Hofman (who knows the difference) asked if I would review the use of lay and lie. So here it is, along with a story I hope will help to make it stand out in your mind (a useful teaching tool, but if you are easily offended, do not read further).

Lay: to place something or to bring forth, as in laying an egg. Pertains to objects.
Past tense: laid

Lie: to rest in a horizontal position. Pertains to people.
Past tense: lay

Confusion sometimes results from the fact that "lay" is both its own present tense and the past tense of "lie." My mother explained a simple way to eliminate this confusion. She told me to remember that "lay" pertains to objects and "lie" pertains to people and that this is why it is grammatically incorrect to say that someone got laid.

I was a pre-teen when she told me this and it was several years before I understood that she wasn't talking about eggs!

Eliza Knight's Her Captain Returns debuts today!

How could anything considered sinful feel so good?

That is what Miss Corinne Claymore asked herself as she gave into the titillating suggestions of Captain Ryder Montgomery. Corinne never knew what she was getting into with her innocent flirtations with Ryder. Scandal ensues as they are discovered in an amorous embrace in the gardens at Lady Covington's ball. Corinne finds herself not only married to Ryder, but abandoned. A short letter tells her he will be gone for several years.

Eight years pass while Ryder is on a secret mission for the Prince Regent. He only returns at hearing the news of his brother's death, making him the new Earl of Stafford. His love and passion for Corinne have not waned. In fact, remembering their nights of pleasure has been the only thing that's kept him sane on his dangerous journey. But she has changed much, filled now with bitterness and the fear of being deserted again. Ryder must woo her back to him and soothe her fears, all while discovering how his brother died and who may be at fault.

It will be a treacherous adventure, but one consumed with building trust and love while enjoying carnal pleasures.

Get Your Copy @ The Wild Rose Press!

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

The Pen Review: The Vampire Family by Kristin Battestella

Welcome to the night edition of The Pen Review. Tonight as we approach midnight. I'd love to share a story that goes into the paranormal.I had a great time reading this paranormal romance by Kristin Battestel.

Title: The Vampire Family
Author's Website:
Price: 5.95 CA
Publisher: Eternal Press

Format: ebook PDF

Purchase Link:

Kristin's The Vampire Family takes us through an adventure of Antonio Welshire and his life as it begins in the 12th century. It talks of Antonio's struggles, loves, and the lives surrounding him especially that of his vampire family. A family that he struggles to keep together even when things are not going the way he'd like. I really enjoyed this book and it's characters. I felt like I knew each character and their personalities. I love reading and watching vampire movies and tv shows, so this was quite the treat to read. Check out the summary and amazing excerpt below!


Sadistic? Check. Domination? Check. Happiness? Not for all. Antonio Welshire accepts the mysterious Mestiphles' offer for vampiric power, but fails to consider that not all in his family desires evil. Daughter Victoria revels in the debauchery, but eldest daughter Samantha loathes the darkness. Enemies are in no short supply when the family turns to darkness. Charismatic rebel Gaston turns up to rival for Antonio's power; the vampire lover Jean can destroy them once and for all, and henchwoman Lilith seeks to supplant Antonio as Mestiphles' favorite. Who will be declared the victor? And in the end, though they've survived coven wars and persecutions since the 12th century, can The Vampire Family survive each other? Killing his abusive parents isn't enough for Antonio Welshire. Rape and death follow him through his youth in the 12th Century-until a stranger named Mestiphles give Antonio unimaginable vampire powers. Fearful yet captivated by his allure, Antonio's adopted sisters Ann and Elizabeth share this gift with him and their children-Victoria, James, Samantha, and Stephen. Antonio is a cruel ruler , and aafter his defeat of the young rebel Gaston, Antonio struggles with Lilith-another magical pet also created by Mestiphles. Antonio's vampire family grows over the centuries, each vampire loving and losing vampire fledglings over time. Wars, persecutions come adn go, but the family's troubles always stem from within. Elizabeth may be his wife, but Ann suplants her as Antonio's mistress. By the 20th century, Elizabeth has found love again-unfortunately her fledgling Jean share's Samantha's disdain for the vampire life. Will The Vampire Family self destruct before the 21st Century?


The sun rose and Elizabeth woke in the pile of sheepskins by the fire. Antonio slept soundly in his own huddle. She caught a dreaming smile on his face; then it was gone. Ann was piled nearby, but she turned in a restless sleep. Elizabeth stretched and rubbed her eyes. She remembered the horrifying events belonging to last night and winced at a twinge in her leg.

She slid from the makeshift bed and took a few sheepskins with her to the door. Her stride was awkward. Her limp would be there forever because of her injuries. She reached for the latch.

Could I? Should I?

She slid the bolt carefully, but it squeaked a little. Her gaze fell to the floor of sheepskins. Antonio stirred, but did not wake. She grasped the handle and slowly opened the door.

Mother Eira stood frozen in the snow, a contorted and morbid statue. Her arms were in the air, fists clenched in their banging position. Frozen blood lined her arms and the collar of her sheepskin. The eyes were open, blue irises glazed over with a white frost. Forever was her mouth to be open, too. Her tongue captured midway between the chapped lips, and saliva dangled like icicles from what yellow teeth she had.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to scream, but a strong hand cupped her mouth shut. Antonio whispered in her ear, "Ann is still sleeping."

He removed his hand, and Elizabeth looked into his cold blue eyes. She had not thought of him much before Father Welshire's fall, but now she did fear him. His own will was his motivation, even when he cared for her. Antonio forced a disquieting smile, but Elizabeth was captivated by the opal-colored eyes.

They are so mysterious. Deceptive. Frightening!

Antonio shut the door on his mother and returned to the fire.

Monday, January 26, 2009

The Pen Interview with Dawn McClure

Welcome to the interview edition of The Pen Review. I had the pleasure of interviewing Dawn McClure. I'm into things angelic and if you love romance, action, and angels then you will surely love these works by Dawn ! Check out the interview and then go check out her works!

Books to Check out & Read:

Azazel by Dawn McClure - Purchase
Asmodeus by Dawn McClure - Purchase

Publisher: Samhain Publishing


Where are you from? Tell us a little about yourself!

I was born in Illinois, raised in California, and I’ve lived in Italy, Florida, Michigan and North Carolina. Right out of high school I joined the United States Navy and set out to see the world. In Italy I met my husband. He was a Marine that guarded the building I worked in. Who can resist a man with a big…gun? ☺ It was love at first sight, and we’ve been happily married for over ten years.

What inspires you to write? Do you find that your muse takes over when writing?

I started reading romance at the tender age of twelve. My husband had his work cut out for him, because after reading about all those yummy heroes…well, let’s just say I had a certain standard. ☺ It was around the age of twenty that I tried to write my own romance, and I immediately acquired a fan – my mother. Suffice to say, those early attempts will never see the light of day. I didn’t get serious about writing until I joined RWA and met so many wonderful writers who were just like me. That gave me the motivation to finish my first novel.

The process is different every time I start a book. Sometimes the muse comes along and the story flows, and sometimes she’s MIA. I like to call it magic. There are times I look back at my writing and need a stiff drink, and other times I look back and wonder where the words came from – that’s when the magic happens, when a story takes on a life all its own.

Tell us about your works, Asmodeus and Azazel! The covers look amazing! What inspired you to write them? How excited where you to receive a contract for your work?

When I came up with the premise for Azazel I was in the bubble bath. One line came to me out of no where – “I’ll break your back like a dry twig in autumn.” Where it came from, I’ve no idea. I wasn’t even thinking about a specific story, or what I was going to write next. Nonetheless, I got out of the bath quickly and started writing Azazel.

When the premise for Asmodeus came to me I was at home alone. My husband was in Iraq, my daughters were spending the night at a friend’s house, and I had been watching scary movies. Well, to put it bluntly, I freaked myself out. I was sitting on my bed with my laptop and I thought I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. I wrote the first chapter of Asmodeus that night, and when you read about Brianna’s fear in the first chapter…yeah, that about sums up how I was feeling at the time I wrote it. ☺

The cover art for Asmodeus was done by Angela Waters, and the cover art for Azazel was done by Natalie Winters. Both artists did such a great job. ☺

Do you have any have any other works in progress that you want to share?
I just finished up with Samael. This is Jade’s novella, a character I introduced in Azazel. She’s a kick-ass assassin for the Alliance but she has a bit of a secret - one she isn’t sharing with her boss, Ambrose. That secret forces Ambrose to put her on probation, and Samael (another yummy demon) is sent in to watch Jade and report on her progress. Ambrose gives her four missions to prove she deserves to remain an assassin in the Alliance - and Samael is there to keep her in line…in more ways than one.

What would be your advice to aspiring writers out there?
Write, write, write. Don’t quit because you get rejection letters. Don’t quit because you get low scores in a contest. Don’t quit because your critique partner gets crazy with her red pen. When you get a rejection letter go celebrate. It’s a step in the right direction! I framed every single rejection letter I ever received and they are proudly displayed in my office. Enjoy the journey to publication. Stay motivated and keep your focus on your ultimate goal. Patience in this business is a must.

What are your favorite books at the moment?
I just finished reading Demon Night by Meljean Brook. It was fantastic. If you’re into historical romance you might want to pick up His Woman by Diana Cosby. It’s the second book in a series, the first being His Captive. Both books are great. ☺ Another great paranormal romance is Tempt Me With Darkness by Shayla Black (aka Shelley Bradley). I could go on and on, so I’ll stop there for now.

What is your favorite word? Least favorite?
LOL! I’ve never had this question before. Hmmm….my favorite words are those that I can spell without using spell-check…oh, wait a minute. Okay. ☺ My favorite word is obsidian. I use that word to describe the eyes of my angels when they are emotionally charged. Try to say that word without it sounding ominous and sinfully sexy. My least favorite word is failure. My characters don’t like it, I don’t like it, and I think anyone with a dream would like it removed from the dictionary. ☺

Thanks so much for having me, Denise. :o) Have a wonderful 2009!

You have a wonderful 2009, Dawn! I wish you the best of success!

Friday, January 23, 2009

The Grammar Guru

Today, class, we will attempt clarification of the dreaded "you and me" versus "you and I." This one gives people fits and it's really so easy (she says optimistically!).

This phrase is almost invariably preceded by a preposition such as "before," "after," "with," "between," etc. Getting the picture? If you consider "me" the object of the preposition (and you should, since this is a rule of grammar), your choice is greatly simplified. In your mind, just drop everything between the preposition and the object and let your ear tell you the rest.

Example: The children want to come with you and I/me.
Drop the "you and I." This gives you: The children want to come with me. Sounds right.
Now, drop "you and me." This gives you: The children want to come with I. Sounds wrong.
Correct grammar: The children want to come with you and me.

When in doubt, trust your ear.

Now, that didn't hurt too much, did it?

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

The Pen Review: Desirée Lee

Welcome to January edition of The Pen Review! Today's reviews are for author, Desirée Lee. I got the chance to read Desirée Lee's work and I have to say she has amazing work. I enjoyed each story and it's characters. Characters, dailouge, and plot are were rich in content. Be sure to add these wonderful stories to your reading lists! Check out the great covers, hot and exciting excerpts!

Title: All Hallow's Haunting Author: Desirée Lee Author's Website:
Pages: 52

Publisher: DCL Publications

Format: ebook PDF
Purchase Link:
Genre: Paranormal/Ghost



Teenagers Dane Grissinger and Kit Eisley never meant for things to go so far when they snuck into the Coulbourne cemetery on Halloween. Dane's idea of a séance to contact the wife and son that Silas Coulbourne had murdered seemed like a scary, but thrilling prospect for the night.

When Dane disappeared during the ceremony, nobody believed Kit's story that a ghost took him.

Now, 10 years later, Kit is visited by an apparition claiming to be Dane. Kit must bring herself to deal with her ghosts from the past and find the truth about what happened to Dane on that fateful night.

Some secrets, however, do not want to be unburied.


Together, Kit and Dane hurried to the Coulbourne Manor. They had done some trick-or-treating earlier so that they’d have candy in their sacks and could prove to their parents that they weren’t fibbing about their Halloween activities. Dark clouds loomed overhead, blocking out most of the stars and casting an eerie haze over the moon. The chilly October air bit right through their makeshift costumes. Kit shivered but kept pace with Dane. The running was helping to keep her warm.

They slowed as they approached the ominous structure. Kit didn’t care what Dane said about castles only being in England. This place was huge and made of stone. It looked like a real castle to her. Too bad it didn’t have a moat.

“Be careful. Don’t trip,” Dane warned as he led her along the side of the structure. The grass was thick and weedy.

“I hope there aren’t any snakes in here. That would freak me out.” Kit didn’t want to admit she was pretty freaked out already. She clutched her treat sack as if it were her only connection to something rational and sane. Following Dane into the graveyard on Halloween certainly was not the brightest thing she’d ever done.

Dane let go of her hand so he could open the gate leading in to the graveyard. An agonizing creak came from the gate’s rusty hinges. It only budged a few inches. “Here, hold this.” Dane handed his treat sack to Kit, then pushed harder on the gate with both hands. With a snap, it gave way, hanging askance.

“You broke it!” Kit’s jaw dropped in horror. “Someone is going to know we messed with it now!”

“Nobody comes back here, Kit. Look at the place. The weeds are all grown up here. This place is deserted. We’ll be safe.”

“Safe is the last thing I feel right now.”

Dane stopped and hugged her. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Dane, this better not be a prank. I swear, if one of your friends is hiding here and jumps out from behind a gravestone to scare me, I’m going to kick your butt so hard…”

“It’s not a prank, Kit. It’s a séance.”

“Don’t you need stuff for a séance, like candles or something? What about a book with the magic words in it?”

“I already have it memorized. Candles are just for show. The ghosts like to make them flicker and it is just for atmosphere. We can’t burn candles out here. I don’t want to set anything on fire.”

“What about a Ouija board?”

“Dang it, I should have brought one! Oh, well, I know words to call the ghosts. We don’t need it.”

“Where should we do it?”

“Over there by that big gravestone.”

Kit looked around at the tiny cemetery. There were only three stone markers. One of them towered over the others. That was the stone Dane was pointing at. She still held both treat sacks as she followed him toward the gigantic monument. They hadn’t brought a flashlight and there weren’t enough stars in the sky to illuminate the stones well enough for her to make out the names. She knew who was buried here, but not which grave belonged to which Coulbourne family member.

Dane stamped his foot in the grass to flatten it down, then sat. “Sit down here and face me.”

Kit complied, sitting across from him. She put the treat sacks down beside her. “Now what do we do?”

“Take my hands.” He extended both hands to her.

Kit grasped his hands. “OK, now what?”

“Only the person in charge of the séance needs to talk. You don’t have to say anything. Just watch and listen.”

Kit nodded her understanding.

“Spirits of the Coulbournes, we seek you. We ask you to show yourselves. Mrs. Coulbourne and son, we want to talk to you. Come to us.”

An icy shiver ran up Kit’s spine. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. The wind blew harder, scattering fallen leaves around the duo. She wanted to get up and bolt out of the graveyard, but Dane’s grip kept her riveted.

“Spirits of the Coulbournes, we seek you,” Dane repeated. “Grant us this wish so that we may bridge the gap between death and life.”

Kit thought that was a careless and irresponsible remark for Dane to make, but she was too scared to reprimand him. Besides, she had agreed to just watch and listen.

The wind circled harder. A cloud of dust choked both teens. Suddenly Dane’s hand jerked from hers.

“Kit!” Dane shouted. His tone showed pure terror.

Kit blinked against the maelstrom of dust and twigs to see Dane’s body being pulled backward. His arms and legs were splayed out in front of him. His fingers flexed, reaching for her.

“Dane!” Kit stood up and tried to follow him. Suddenly, he disappeared. “Dane, where are you?!” Kit looked around but there was no sign of her compadre. She heard a hideous laugh and ran from the graveyard, screaming all the way home.

“Mom! Dad! Help! Help!”

“Calm down, Kit! What is it?” Both parents were on their feet immediately.

“Dane! Dane got kidnapped!”

“Oh, my goodness! Thelma, call the sheriff,” her father instructed. “Kit, tell me exactly what you saw. Who did it? Did you get a look at the person who took him? Where was it? Did anybody else see this?”

Tears flowed down Kit’s grimy cheeks, creating muddy rivers of sorrow. “We were at the Coulbourne Castle.”

“What in the hell were you doing there?”

“Dane wanted to do a séance. He said it would be creepy and fun to do on Halloween. I think we got a real ghost, though, because something picked him up into the air and then he was just gone! He disappeared!”

“Kitrina Eisley, this is no time to be telling ghost stories. Tell me now exactly what happened or I’ll tan your hide.” Her father’s tone deepened severely.

“I’m not lying, Dad! You can beat me if I’m lying, but that’s what happened! A ghost kidnapped Dane! He’s gone!”

“Thelma, tell the sheriff we’re going over to the Coulbourne Manor to look for Dane.”

Kit sobbed silently as her father drove. The spooky old manor loomed in the distance like a tangible nightmare. She shuddered and closed her eyes tightly, hoping it was just a prank, even though Dane told her it wasn’t. That must be it. Dane was just kidding. He was hiding there and they’d find him. She’d smack him hard for scaring her like that, but he had to be safe, right?

Kit and her father trudged up to the manor, flashlights in hand. “Dane!” she called. “Dane, this isn’t funny! If this is a joke, so help me I’m going to kick your butt!”

“Kit, don’t be talking like that,” her father admonished. “Dane! Come out, boy! If this is a joke, it’s gone far past being funny! Dane!”

Several minutes later, flashing lights cut the darkness. A sheriff’s deputy approached the duo. Kit and her father walked toward the deputy. “Hello, Sheriff. We’re looking for Dane.”

“Did you find him?” Deputy Joe Kaminski towered over the slight teenager. He was even taller than her father and much stockier. Nobody thought of messing with Deputy Kaminski. Nobody in their right mind, that is.

“Not yet,” Mr. Eisley shook his head no.

“What happened?” The large deputy looked pointedly at Kit.

“Dane wanted to do a séance, so we came here and had one in the graveyard. Then the wind was blowing, leaves and sticks started to swirl. I think we summoned a real ghost. Something grabbed Dane from behind and dragged him up into the air. I’m not lying. You have to believe me!”

“Something dragged him into the air, then what?”

“He disappeared. One second he was there, then he was just gone.”

“If this is another Halloween prank, young lady, I have a good mind to take you down to my office and arrest you for making a false report.”

“I swear I am not making this up! Dane is gone and I don’t know where he is or who took him!” Kit cried harder. Nobody believed her. She should have known. It sounded stupid, she had to admit. Who would really believe that a ghost kidnapped Dane?

Title: Scorpio Risen
Author: Desirée Lee
Publisher: Tease Publishing, LLC,
Format: ebook PDF
Purchase Link:

Genre: Paranormal/Shapeshifter.
Pages: 65
Price: $3.99


Deylen Troika is the new Alpha of the Centruroides clan of scorpion shifters and the owner of a toxicology lab to appear legitimate amongst mortals. Forced to hire a new employee for his lab, Deylen has to go outside of his clan to find someone with the qualifications. He can't help but notice his new employee Seneca McLane is stunningly beautiful. If only her personality wasn't so abrasive. If only she wasn’t mortal…

Deylen uncovers a secret Seneca harbors, bringing them closer together, more closer than he would have imagined. It also puts his own secret in danger of being discovered.

When a rival clan challenges Deylen for the city, Seneca is caught up in to a world she knows nothing about. Can Deylen keep his clan affairs separate and protect her innocence or will she become an unwitting pawn in the fight for supremacy amongst the arachnid shifters?


“I think you need to come over to this side of the tub. The view from over here is great.”

“Oh is that so?” She laughed and shifted position, scooting over to straddle his legs. “I still see the same thing, only closer.”

“But it’s a great view.”

“It damn well is.”

“I’ve wanted you ever since I first saw you. I admit I thought you were a real bitch at times, but a damn sexy bitch.”

“I am a damn sexy bitch. Don’t ever forget that.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, noting the lingering taste of champagne and dessert on his tongue.

Deylen gripped her hips as they kissed, trying to position her over his cock. Seneca helped him and soon he was at her opening.

She moaned in to the kiss as she took him inside. He filled her so well. The water churned from both the jets and their motion as she rode him in the hot tub.

Deylen’s voice of reason was far gone by now. He was inside the velvety folds of Seneca McLane. In the small hot tub, he couldn’t control the motion much so he left that up to her. She seemed to know what to do. His hands moved to those voluptuous breasts and fondled. He broke the kiss and leaned forward, taking a supple nipple in his mouth. Big mistake, it tasted like the bubble bath. He didn’t suckle long before kissing back up to her neck. His hands slid around to her beautiful, heart-shaped ass, gripping it firmly.

He had a reason to resort to carnal pleasures. He needed to mate. He needed to sire the next Alpha of the clan. This was wrong though. He should not be fucking a mortal woman but he could not resist her.

Seneca quivered and moaned as she reached orgasm. Deylen kissed her throat softly, pulling her down to him harder to bring her to peak again quickly. Their sex was vigorous, forceful. They splashed water out of the hot tub but neither cared. Thoughts were primal as the instinct of their shared act took over. Deylen kept his eyes closed, lest she see them darken over to solid black.
Her back arched as she came again and Deylen was there with her. Keeping his hands on her ass, he pulled her down on him again as he peaked. He knew he shouldn’t have come inside her. This could be bad. Too late now.

She leaned forward, resting her chin on top of his head. Her breasts heaved against him as she panted. “Holy shit,” she whispered.

Title: Brothers at Arms
Author: Desirée Lee
Publisher: Tease Publishing, LLC,,
Format: ebook PDF
Purchase Link:
Genre: Paranormal/Vampire. This is part of the Dark Tarot line.
Pages: 109 pages
Rating: PhotobucketPhotobucketPhotobucketPhotobucketPhotobucket


For 250 years, the Arcée brothers have been in conflict. The vendetta between these two powerful vampires has shown no signs of resolve or waning. The concession made between the two is that the location of their ongoing war is moved every five decades to help prevent hapless mortals from discovering them. It was determined that the new locations would be chosen by a delegated Keeper, symbolized by a custom-made tarot card. Where the card goes, so do the Houses and also the war.

When the card changes hands, each House sends out Seekers, specially trained vampires who race against each other to be the first to discover the card’s new location. The first one to find the card and take control of the new keeper has the upper hand in the battle for that duration as they gain first foothold in the new city.

This year is a Turning Year. Julio Mendoza receives the card in the mail, unaware of its meaning. When he learns of the history of the card, he realizes he has been thrust in to a war that holds nothing for him, yet he cannot escape his fate. Still he will not accept his role meekly.

Michelle Bryson is a Seeker for the House of François Arcée. She is pitted against a ruthless rival from the House of Pierre Arcée to get to Julio first. Michelle is a young Seeker and if she fails to capture the Keeper, her life may be forfeited. What Michelle did not plan on was to find the Keeper to be a sexy, rebellious man who has a spirit in him unlike any Keeper she has seen in the past.

Julio knows the vampires are coming for him. He knows that he cannot hide forever. When the Seekers find him though, he cannot deny his attraction toward Michelle – an attraction that they will both pay dearly for if the Seeker from the House of Pierre Arcée has anything to do about it.


Julio and Michelle were oblivious to the conflicted vampire outside. Here, she was held tightly in his arms. Julio tilted his head and nuzzled his cheek against her hair. He hadn’t had a woman in his arms since he had broken up with Evelia. It felt good. Michelle was tall. It was easy to hold her. If only his gesture could bring her some comfort.

She squeezed her eyes tightly to dam up the tears. She would not cry for Luke. She had cried so many nights when he left before that she swore she had no more tears left inside of her for him. The tears that she shed would turn to shards of glass. They would fall and shatter, along with her vainly held hopes of Luke’s joyous return. She was now in the arms of another man, a position she had not been in for more years than she cared to count. Julio’s strong arms were beams of support that she did not want to admit she needed right now, though deep inside she knew she did. She did not fight it. She let him hold her and accepted the tender warmth of his touch. She felt him nuzzle her and it was strangely consoling, more so than she expected it to be. A tingle sparked deep inside of her. This was wrong though. It was wrong to be attracted to the Keeper. Such an attraction would only complicate things, wouldn’t it?

Julio did not assuage her confusion. He shifted and leaned his head down, capturing her lips with his own. Yes, Michelle had noticed his lips before and now she knew she was right. They were sublime. He was a good kisser. No, he was a great kisser. The fortitude that normally gave her so much pride was now failing her as she returned his kiss with a wanton zeal, barely keeping her fangs in check. Reason was cast aside. She was emotionally wrought but none of it mattered at this moment. All that mattered was that this man, whose scent on the pillow had helped coax her to a warm slumber this morning, was kissing her. This man desired her.

He didn’t realize how tormented she was inside over this kiss. He didn’t even really think of why he was kissing her. She was troubled and he had tried to comfort her. He wanted to show her that he cared. He cared. When did he start caring? When had this bossy vampire ever given him reason to show her any caring? Why was he even thinking when he had a woman in his arms?
His hands moved downward, caressing her back. He lifted her tight shirt, exposing the creamy skin of her back. The warmth of his fingertips sent shivers up her spine. She gave a soft moan, pressing her ample chest to his.

His mouth pressed more firmly to hers, more demanding. She did not deny. Her lips parted, permitting his tongue entry. The kiss deepened to ravishment. Her mouth held a salty tang that beckoned to him, spurring him to sample more. He heeded the call, putting out of his mind what it was that made her taste so salty. He drew back from her only for a moment. In that split fraction of time, he pulled her shirt upward, removing it from her in one fluid motion. It happened so fast that Michelle had no time to protest.

His lips met hers once again. His toned arms lifted her up. Their kiss remained unbroken. He carried her in to his bedroom, leaning over to lie her gently down. He stood at the foot of the bed, rapidly shedding his own clothing. His jeans dropped to the floor in a crumpled heap. His t-shirt was tossed, landing haphazardly on top of the dresser.

Michelle gawped at him, standing there in nothing but his dark grey briefs. His underwear were the color of a rock and the hard bulge contained within only accentuated that fact. She pushed her own pants down, hooking her thumbs in the hem of her panties to remove them at the same time. Her emotional state was in a complete frenzy. She knew that she should not be here, in his bed, naked. She knew that having sex with Julio is the last thing that should be on her mind but her physical desire won out over all of her mental protests.

Julio licked his lips as he gazed upon her nakedness. Her breasts were large, rounded and in a word, perfect. Her pale skin provided a stark counterpoint to the passel of dark curls that were now exposed. He crawled up on to the bed, stalking toward her on all fours like a predator. He hovered over her and eyed her hungrily.

She gave him a grin and reached down, pushing his briefs down. She glanced downward, taking her first glimpse at his now unconcealed manhood. He was huge! She had never been with a man that large. Wow, did they know how to grow them down here or what? Even Luke, her past love, could not compare to Julio’s size.

Julio moved his legs to slide the briefs off, then rocked backward on to his knees, sitting upright, legs bent beneath him. His hand cupped her mound. His fingers slid deftly in to her crease, seeking her clit. He found it quickly. The man obviously had talent in the art of pleasuring a woman. He rubbed her swollen nodule with his thumb, pressing two fingers up inside her. Even now, he was amazed that her flesh was still cool to the touch.

Michelle closed her eyes and moaned. All of her experiences with masturbation had never equaled a man’s touch on her most sensitive region. “Deeper,” she whispered, raising her hips to his touch. She began to caress her own breasts, tweaking her nipples to give him a show. If she had opened her eyes to see the expression on his face, she could tell that he was enjoying it.

Julio obliged her order. He didn’t accuse her of being bossy. He simply complied. His fingers probed deeper, wiggling against her g-spot. He grinned wickedly, expecting her to react strongly.
She did not disappoint. Her hands stopped caressing, instead squeezing her breasts tightly as she writhed at the sensation. She was wet when he first started kissing her but by now she was more than ready. She had a brief second of relief that she was not wearing her only pair of panties or else they would be soaked now.

Julio withdrew his fingers, now glistening with her moisture. He wondered what she would taste like. The curiosity was too much and he licked her essence from his fingertips. Her flavor was indescribably alluring. He shifted and started to crawl toward the nightstand.

To A Bright, New, Future

Today we made history by swearing in our first African American President, Barrack Obama. It's amazing to see that about 2 million people came to witness this extraordinary man. President Obama is an amazing individual. I have no doubt that our future will be filled with many wonderful things to come. Below is President Obama's speech. It was beautiful and inspiring.

My fellow citizens:

I stand here today humbled by the task before us, grateful for the trust you have bestowed, mindful of the sacrifices borne by our ancestors. I thank President Bush for his service to our nation, as well as the generosity and cooperation he has shown throughout this transition.

Forty-four Americans have now taken the presidential oath. The words have been spoken during rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace. Yet, every so often, the oath is taken amidst gathering clouds and raging storms. At these moments, America has carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because We the People have remained faithful to the ideals of our forebearers, and true to our founding documents.

So it has been. So it must be with this generation of Americans.

That we are in the midst of crisis is now well understood. Our nation is at war, against a far-reaching network of violence and hatred. Our economy is badly weakened, a consequence of greed and irresponsibility on the part of some, but also our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare the nation for a new age. Homes have been lost; jobs shed; businesses shuttered. Our health care is too costly; our schools fail too many; and each day brings further evidence that the ways we use energy strengthen our adversaries and threaten our planet.

These are the indicators of crisis, subject to data and statistics. Less measurable but no less profound is a sapping of confidence across our land -- a nagging fear that America's decline is inevitable, and that the next generation must lower its sights.

Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real. They are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this, America: They will be met.

On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.

On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn-out dogmas, that for far too long have strangled our politics.

We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.

In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that greatness is never a given. It must be earned. Our journey has never been one of shortcuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for the fainthearted -- for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things -- some celebrated, but more often men and women obscure in their labor -- who have carried us up the long, rugged path toward prosperity and freedom.

For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new life.

For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West; endured the lash of the whip and plowed the hard earth.

For us, they fought and died, in places like Concord and Gettysburg; Normandy and Khe Sahn.

Time and again, these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a better life. They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual ambitions; greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or faction.

This is the journey we continue today. We remain the most prosperous, powerful nation on Earth. Our workers are no less productive than when this crisis began. Our minds are no less inventive, our goods and services no less needed than they were last week or last month or last year. Our capacity remains undiminished. But our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting off unpleasant decisions -- that time has surely passed. Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.

For everywhere we look, there is work to be done. The state of the economy calls for action, bold and swift, and we will act -- not only to create new jobs, but to lay a new foundation for growth. We will build the roads and bridges, the electric grids and digital lines that feed our commerce and bind us together. We will restore science to its rightful place, and wield technology's wonders to raise health care's quality and lower its cost. We will harness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars and run our factories. And we will transform our schools and colleges and universities to meet the demands of a new age. All this we can do. And all this we will do.

Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions -- who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short. For they have forgotten what this country has already done; what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose, and necessity to courage.

What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them -- that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long no longer apply. The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works -- whether it helps families find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified. Where the answer is yes, we intend to move forward. Where the answer is no, programs will end. And those of us who manage the public's dollars will be held to account -- to spend wisely, reform bad habits, and do our business in the light of day -- because only then can we restore the vital trust between a people and their government.

Nor is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate wealth and expand freedom is unmatched, but this crisis has reminded us that without a watchful eye, the market can spin out of control -- and that a nation cannot prosper long when it favors only the prosperous. The success of our economy has always depended not just on the size of our gross domestic product, but on the reach of our prosperity; on our ability to extend opportunity to every willing heart -- not out of charity, but because it is the surest route to our common good.

As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals. Our Founding Fathers, faced with perils we can scarcely imagine, drafted a charter to assure the rule of law and the rights of man, a charter expanded by the blood of generations. Those ideals still light the world, and we will not give them up for expedience's sake. And so to all other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: Know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and that we are ready to lead once more.

Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with sturdy alliances and enduring convictions. They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint.

We are the keepers of this legacy. Guided by these principles once more, we can meet those new threats that demand even greater effort -- even greater cooperation and understanding between nations. We will begin to responsibly leave Iraq to its people, and forge a hard-earned peace in Afghanistan. With old friends and former foes, we will work tirelessly to lessen the nuclear threat, and roll back the specter of a warming planet. We will not apologize for our way of life, nor will we waver in its defense, and for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken; you cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you.

For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace.

To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect. To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society's ills on the West: Know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy. To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.

To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.

As we consider the road that unfolds before us, we remember with humble gratitude those brave Americans who, at this very hour, patrol far-off deserts and distant mountains. They have something to tell us today, just as the fallen heroes who lie in Arlington whisper through the ages. We honor them not only because they are guardians of our liberty, but because they embody the spirit of service; a willingness to find meaning in something greater than themselves. And yet, at this moment -- a moment that will define a generation -- it is precisely this spirit that must inhabit us all.

For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies. It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break, the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job which sees us through our darkest hours. It is the firefighter's courage to storm a stairway filled with smoke, but also a parent's willingness to nurture a child, that finally decides our fate.

Our challenges may be new. The instruments with which we meet them may be new. But those values upon which our success depends -- hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism -- these things are old. These things are true. They have been the quiet force of progress throughout our history. What is demanded then is a return to these truths. What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility -- a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation and the world; duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.

This is the price and the promise of citizenship.

This is the source of our confidence -- the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny.

This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed -- why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent Mall, and why a man whose father less than 60 years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.

So let us mark this day with remembrance, of who we are and how far we have traveled. In the year of America's birth, in the coldest of months, a small band of patriots huddled by dying campfires on the shores of an icy river. The capital was abandoned. The enemy was advancing. The snow was stained with blood. At a moment when the outcome of our revolution was most in doubt, the father of our nation ordered these words be read to the people:

"Let it be told to the future world ... that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive... that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet [it]."

America. In the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words. With hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come. Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested, we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back, nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Hand Massage Techniques for Writers

I saw this video and had to share this with everyone. I know how hard we all work writing on a daily biases. We all need a little R&R on our hands.

Hand Massage - Click here for the funniest movie of the week

Saturday, January 17, 2009


DCL Publications has just advised that they will release my teeny-tiny novella, Stupid Cupid, on February 1--right in time for Valentine's Day.

This is a little treat written especially for the holiday and features what I think has to be the world's cutest cover. My compliments to the cover artist, Annie Marshall! It features the band of Irish faeries first introduced in my debut novel, Confessions of the Cleaning Lady.


Tuesday, January 13, 2009

The Pen & Muse Blog Romance Short Story Contest

I wanted to get a great contest going on here!
The Pen & Muse Blog proudly presents a Romance Short Story Contest!
This contest is open to published/unpublished writers.
There will be two categories/divisions for winners, published and unpublished.

Grand Prize:
Apple Ipod Shuffle (Your choice in color) $50 Value
Interview on the Blog with Story published on the blog.

Second Prize Winner:
$20 Amazon Gift Certificate

Third Prize Winner:
$10 Amazon Gift Certificate
Certificate & Honorable Mention

What Genre's are accepted:

Story length: 10,000 (no more than 10,000 for minimum)
Deadline: February 19, 2009

Please email :
Subject : Short Story Contest
Please be sure to specify your genre and if you are published
or unpublished.
Also you may submit in certain formats: .doc, pdf, rtf, and text.

Don't Forget to Vote!

Some of my favorite authors are on Preditors & Editors Poll!

Check them out @

Eliza Knight's Warrior In A Box is being nominated :

Miriam Newman's The King's Daughter is also being nominated :

Sunday, January 11, 2009


In my year-long tenure as an editor for an e-pub, I have had time to note patterns. There is the new author, eager and hopeful, sure that the finished product will be ready in 30 days. And then there is the more experienced author, tactfully inquiring, "How long will this take?"

If you are a writer, in large part that depends on you. I can be waylaid by illness, computer meltdown or other misfortune. To a great extent, though, the time frame for editing does depend on the author and the quality of your manuscript. In the spirit of making your editing timely, I would like to share some observations. These do not pertain to plot, pace or other major hurdles. I am referring to common mistakes that can plunge your precious manuscript into the abyss where your editor is hiding, moaning, "How long will this take?"

Spacing: When I began editing, I assumed "everyone knew" manuscripts are double-spaced. Wrong! People, have you heard of eyestrain?
Dialogue: I'm not addressing the quality of dialogue, but punctuation. Recently, I have seen a trend which makes me wonder if English teachers are actually teaching this. What is wrong with this sentence?
"I thought this would happen." She said.
If you think nothing is wrong, you are similar to many authors, especially younger ones. This is the sort of punctuation that would have caused my mother to yell, "She said WHAT?" Perhaps that is why I know that the sentence should read:
"I thought this would happen," she said.
When in doubt, refer to Elements of Style by Strunk and White. It is readily available and reasonably priced through Amazon. Mine is right on top of my dictionary, another valuable resource.
Tense: The majority of books are written in the past tense and should stay there at least within the same sentence! When you are writing in the past tense, be wary of slipping into present or even future tense. It can happen as easily as this:
"She thought this may happen."
"Thought" puts your sentence in the past tense. "May" takes it into present tense. The effect on the knowledgeable reader is closely akin to mental whiplash. The quickest glance at that dictionary I mentioned tells you that "may" is "1st & 3rd singular present indicative." It also tells you that the past tense of the verb "may" is "might." Your sentence should read:
"She thought this might happen."
May/might confusion is one of the most common errors I see. This was less problematic when taking Latin in high school was required. I hated conjugating those verbs, but it worked. Now, I get fish-eyed looks from sixteen-year-olds when I use the word "conjugate." I'm sure they think it has something to do with sex. Use a dictionary or any good grammar book.
Grammar: Here is another test, class. What is wrong with this sentence?
"You're parents are coming to dinner."
Ouch! Technically, you have just said that you are parents coming to dinner. Well, maybe you are. But I doubt that's what you meant!
Rule: Your = possessive, something belonging to "you."
You're = contraction for "you are." It is "you are" with the "a" omitted.
The sentence should read:
"Your parents are coming to dinner."
Your/you're confusion is very prevalent.
I could go on, but you've probably heard enough! Seriously, eliminating these errors from your manuscript will greatly expedite the editing process and make you a more competent, confident author.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

The Pen Review: New Year of Reviews Edition

Welcome to The Pen Review's New Year of Reviews Edition! Who says Christmas doesn't last for a couple more days. Check out these wonderful treats to continually fill your stockings with all year round. You can find all these yummy treats to purchase @ Eternal Press.

Amazing Grace by Ginger Simpson
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publisher:Eternal Press
Pages: 42
Author's Website:
Price: $2.95 CA

Amazing Grace follows the lovely tale of a young woman named Grace who is trying to appease her father. Unfortunately, Grace has not had any luck appeasing her father with the men she has brought home until she meets the handsome Blake Hastings. Grace and Blake fall head over heals in love. Will it last or will Grace's father interfere?

I really enjoyed this story. It was heartwarming and a beautiful tale of love and where it can take you.


A noise drew her attention to the front window. She watched an old, faded pick-up truck sputter up the driveway. A spiral of smoke followed it but dissipated when the vehicle stopped on the circle in front of the house. “Blake’s here. I won’t be late.” She smoothed her dress and waited for the knock.

Her father stood and peeked through the curtain behind his chair, then shook his head. “I can’t believe you want to be seen in that…that horrid excuse for transportation. At least let me have Maynard bring the Mercedes around. He can drive you.”

She squared her shoulders. “Daddy, please. Lower your voice, and be polite. Maynard’s services are not necessary.”

Her heart warmed when she opened the door and found Blake standing on the doorstep. Dressed in nice slacks, a powder blue shirt with a logo drawing attention to his broad chest, and shoes so shiny she saw her reflection, he projected a persona of which anyone would be proud. But Daddy? Her first instinct was to take Blake's arm and dash to the truck, but she smiled and opened the door wider.

“Won’t you come in?”

Heaven In Her Eyes By Wendy Stone
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publisher:Eternal Press
Pages: 213
Author's Website:n/a
Price: $5.95 CA

Heaven In Her Eyes follows the story Shanna Hunter-Clinton. Shana is on the run from her horrible, abusive, senator husband. Shana flees to Texas only to find herself in danger and in the hand of Special Agent Brandon Austen. Although story is apart of the series, Book two of the Romus trilogy, it can be read alone.
Brandon will be called to duty and will do anything to protect Shanna, the women he thought was so annoying that he couldn't get along with. Knowing Shanna's husband won't relent, Brandon will protect Shanna at any cost. Will Brandon and Shanna come together in their time of need? See for yourself! Read the HOT excerpt below!

I loved reading this story. I will be sure to read the story before it in the series and those to come after it. The characters and story are wonderfully written.


“Oh God,” she hissed, staring at the old-fashioned stand mirror in front of her. Her hands went up to cover her breasts, as if hiding them from herself.

“Shh,” he whispered, bending his head so he spoke softly in her ear. “You don’t know how beautiful you are, I want you to see you like I do.” He put his hands over hers, slowly dragging her hands down her body to hang limply at her sides.

“You have the most sensual hair, Shanna,” he said, still speaking softly, letting his cheek rub against the softness of her hair. “Do you know how much men love long hair? Especially like yours, it’s so thick and almost seems to have a life of its own. It makes me wonder how it would feel wrapped around me, draped over me, against my naked skin.” He lifted handfuls and let it run out of his hands like water.

“Your skin is perfect,” he whispered, his fingers coming up to trace across her cheeks, feeling the heat of her blush. “Creamy silk,” he moaned. The back of his hand tracing down her throat and across her collar-bone, then barely brushing the hardened tip of her nipple.

Tasty Christmas Treats by Roxanne Roads
Genre: Contemporary Christmas Erotica
Publisher:Eternal Press
Pages: 22
Author's Website:
Price: $1.80 CA

Kelly has had a long day working in her upscale adult boutique. She’s ready to kick off her heels and spend some quality time with her husband, Marc, which just might include activities involving candy canes, ribbons and bows that would make even Kelly blush!

But just as things are spicing up, an emergency phone call from one of Kelly’s employees interrupts the festive fun. Kelly’s troublemaking, oversexed cousin, Chrissy, is up to no good, and wreaking havoc in Kelly’s upscale sex shop.

Can Kelly convince Chrissy that her store is not a brothel before the cops shut it down? Will Kelly and Marc ever get to finish their passionate Christmas rendezvous?

Tasty Treats by Roxanne Rhoads not something to miss. This is sure to be a holiday treat all year round!


“It’s my turn to taste you. Lay down.”

I don’t object and lie down on the sofa. He peels off my velvet thong, so that I’m left just wearing the Santa hat. How festive. He reaches over to the end table next to the sofa. Just then I realize there are bottles and mugs, candy canes and marshmallows sitting on the end table.

“What are you going to do with all that?”

“Turn you into a tasty smorgasbord of Christmas treats.”

I don’t question it. I just wish I had known it was there. I would have used some on him. Of course! Some of those bottles must be responsible for his tasty jingle balls and candy cock. I have plenty of stuff at the store that I had special-ordered in holiday flavors.

Paper Chains by Sharie Silva
Genre: Contemporary Christmas Erotica
Publisher:Eternal Press
Pages: 24
Author's Website: n/a
Price: $1.80 CA

This tale is what happens when you lose to your friends in a bet and great things happen because of it...


On a Holiday shopping trip to the mall, Evelyn is mortified when her friends dare her to sit on Santa’s lap. Until…she notices Santa’s sexy “helper”. When he asks her out, Evelyn is thrilled at her chance for a hot holiday encounter. Will she get the gift she longs for with a bit of Christmas magic along the way? Find out in this festive erotic tale that is sure to provide a whole new meaning to the words, “Naughty” and “Nice”.

A very hot tale to surely please those cold nights! I really liked reading this work. Fun to read and enjoyable at the same time. Check out the very HOT excerpt below!


He reached up and ran his fingers through her hair. The gentleness with which they combed her silky tresses made her lean her head into his touch. He leaned over and brushed his lips across her neck in light kisses. The goose bumps on her arms returned, this time for a more thrilling reason. Evelyn moaned.

Her fingers found his nipples and began caressing them.

Cole grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked back her head so that she could look up at him. He kissed her long and hard. His tongue parted her lips and toyed with the tip of her tongue. He took her breath away, and for a moment, her mind panicked.

He released her suddenly, and she quickly realized she wanted more. She curled her fingers on top of his broad chest and slowly raked her nails downward, gently at first, and then harder and harder as his nipples erected in response.

“So, you like it rough?” his voice whispered in her ear.

No Holds Barred by Jaydyn Chelcee
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Western
Publisher:Eternal Press
Pages: 364
Author's Website: n/a
Price: $7.95 CA

Love romance with a touch of horses, cowboys, and the west? This romance is the one to read! Although part of a series, this second book in the series can be read stand alone. After reading this I wanted to ride off to the sunset with a cowboy. Now I want to read the first book in the series. A read that many will enjoy. Check out the very hot excerpt to find out more!


Rimrock—Home of the Montana men and the women who tame them.

Professional horse trainer Kaycee Spencer decides to relocate when she becomes the target of an insane stalker. She chooses remote Rimrock, Montana where no one can find her.

Jace Remington, co-owner of the Dancing Star Ranch, refuses to allow women around his thoroughbreds—females are nothing but trouble with a capital ‘T’—that is, until he meets Kaycee Spencer, a woman who crashes into his peaceful life with trouble close on her heels.

Set against the backdrop of the rugged mountains of Montana, Kaycee and Jace discover that if they are going to survive the vicious serial killer stalking Kaycee, they will have to learn to trust each other.

No Holds Barred, a roller-coaster ride of murder, romance, and the discovery that love just might conquer all.


Right now, she couldn’t think coherently about anything, not with Jace’s mouth all over her. She looked around, wondering how they ended up in an empty stall.

He didn’t give her time to think. He ripped the buttons off her shirt and slid it off her shoulders. “Jace,” she whispered his name, a whisper somewhere between an ache filled with desire and a gentle plead for him to take her away again. Take her away from the struggles of everyday strife and everything that haunted her memories.

His mouth captured her bare breasts. He suckled the taut nipples, took turns drawing them into his mouth. He moved his hips, thrust against her. She felt the hardness of his manhood throb urgently against her belly and reveled at her power over him. He unbuttoned her jeans and worked the zipper down until he could ease a finger deep inside her.

The Seekers: Book Three Inhuman by Sommer Marsden
Genre: Paranormal/ Erotica
Publisher:Eternal Press
Pages: 69
Author's Website: n/a
Price: $3.95 CA

Inhuman is book three in a series by Sommer Marsden. Inhuman follows the story of Martee, the medium and psychic is who is trying to be with her boyfriend, but seems never has the chance with her job always in the way. What's a girl to do when all she wants to do is be alone with her man? Check out the great excerpt below!


I hid my face for a moment. I was losing my mind. I was as hot as a furnace, and the skin on my butt seemed to pulse mildly from my spanking. Trip had spanked me. Trip had spanked me. God. I shifted in my seat and ate a shrimp. It tasted like an eraser.

“So, she’s afraid she’s crazy,” I said again.

“Didn’t you hear me?” he asked. “About us? About you?”

I nodded. ‘Yeah, but I don’t want to start a brawl in the dining room. Can we talk about it upstairs? Please?”

I almost blurted it out right there. I am ovulating and I think we’re supposed to have a baby but we cannot have a baby. We aren’t married and, as dumb as that is, I would want to be. And I don’t want to be married. Mostly. Only I sort of do, and I think my fucked-up gene pool is doing its best to continue the psychic line and…my God…my father talked about the undeniable pull of my mother right before I was conceived.

I bit my tongue.

Trip was no dummy. He caught the look. “Martee? Something you want to tell me?”

“Nope. Not right now. For now I thought we could focus on our friend. Our friend who thinks she’s crazy. Our friend who needs us.”

Angel Gets Her Wings by Kat Duarte
Genre: Paranormal/ Erotica
Publisher:Eternal Press
Pages: 51
Author's Website: n/a
Price: $3.95 CA

This tale is a great read for all those who love romance!


Angel Martinez-O’Reilly’s plans aren’t those of a typical down-to-earth holiday traveler. In fact, she’s a cherub-in-training who must complete her naughty-and-nice list by Christmas morning to get promoted to full-fledged angel.

On flight 781 flying from New York to Chicago, she has her hands full. Eugene, the computer genius, needs a boost of sexual confidence so he’ll propose to his true love. Jeanie, the heart-breaking stewardess bitch, is due for a dose of her own medicine. Sean Conlan, the handsome English pilot whose heart was Jeanie-stomped, is the most deserving of anyone to have a Merry Christmas.

Her list is growing instead of shrinking while Celeste, her heavenly supervisor, keeps popping in to remind her that time is running out. The real problem is Sean. Feelings for him have Angel’s heart-strings tied up in a fancy bow. Love just might tempt her to put the harp lessons on hold.


“Merry Christmas, friend,” she said and rose on tiptoe to plant a soft, sweet kiss on his lips.

He put his strong hands on her shoulders and seemed undecided on whether to move her away or pull her into an embrace.

She had every intention of letting him think this through at his own pace, but didn’t know how much longer she could wait. The sweater and jeans he’d donned hugged his sculpted frame, and she’d challenge anyone to even try to figure out if he looked best in a uniform or his casual attire. There was just no choosing; he was perfect in both. The combination of his pale blue sweater and his hazel eyes made her think of sea glass and sand, of waves lulling her to sleep, softening the edges of any anxious thought. She might be the cherub in training, but he was definitely her angel tonight.

Cord by Patrick Welch
Genre: Horror/Suspense
Publisher:Eternal Press
Pages: 92
Author's Website: n/a
Price: $3.95 CA

A thrilling read from start to finish!


Jonathan Cord is a serial killer. Or is he? The police and FBI think so and are trying everything in their power to find and stop him. Why is he killing men, women and children? Because he is insane, or is it because there’s something–or someone–else involved? Only Cord knows the demons which drive him to kill. Will the team of FBI profilers learn what those demons are in time to stop more killings? Or will they become victims themselves?


Richardson suppressed a grin; he was actually relieved his people could enjoy a bit of levity even if nominally at his expense. Anything to get their minds off their jobs if just for a moment. “What our irrepressible Ms. Franke is referring to is my conclusion that our unsub is nothing like we’ve been presupposing. Basically, everything has been a scam.”

Schaefner frowned. “What are you saying?”

“That the ritualistic elements of these murders have been done for our benefit and are meant only to divert us from finding out the truth about him and the killings themselves. Everything we’ve seen has been textbook perfect. Ritual mutilation. Rigid adherence to a schedule. If I were going to give an example of a psychotic, obsessed killer, this would be what I’d use. And that’s my point: it’s too perfect.” Richardson looked each of his team in the eye. “Our friend isn’t being driven to kill by some psychological urge he can’t control. He’s choosing his victims for a very specific reason and has been staging the crime scene.” Then he pointed to the board behind him. “Everything he’s done you can see in a movie or TV drama, read in a novel. We have to reexamine every case because we haven’t been looking in the right places.”

“Unfortunately, this doesn’t get us any closer to the killer,” White said.

“It will. Our killer isn’t psychotic. At least not in the way we assumed he was. These haven’t been ritualistic murders, these have been assassinations.”

The others digested his comments for several minutes.

“A hired killer perhaps? Makes no sense. Staying in one city and all.” Franke crossed her arms and stared at Richardson.

“Not hired in that sense. But that’s how the killer is treating each victim. Unfortunately it makes perfect sense; it explains everything. And there’s one more thing.”

Franke leaned forward. “Don’t keep us in suspense.”

“These may not be the only murders he’s committed.”