Friday, August 31, 2012

A Suspenseful Saturday Featuring Author Virna DePaul


I've been a huge Virna DePaul fan since her debut release not to long ago. On top of being a fabulous author with a strong talent for writing romantic suspense, she's also a really great lady and friend. I've spoken with her several times over the course of this year and each time she really knows how to make me feel special. Great lady indeed!

She gives kick-butt writing advice as well but more on that another day. Today we're going to have a sit down with one of her paranormal romantic suspense in her Para-OPs series titled Chose by Fate. It released last October. I've spoken with a lot of readers in online book cubs and at my local library book club that discussed this series, naming this title as the best of the series because of DePaul's unique heroine. After reading the blurb and snippet let me know your thoughts. I'd love to hear them!

Happy Reading!

Chosen by Fate
Virna DePaul
Para-OPS, Book Two

Back of the Book:
Although he keeps company with a vampire and a were, human Shaman Caleb O'Flare can definitely hold his own. But neither his psychic ability nor his healing powers can help his sexy-as-hell teammate, Wraith-a ghost with no memory of her human existence, who cannot experience touch without pain. No wraith has managed to exist past its tenth year, so her time is about to run out. She wants only two things before accepting her fate: to learn her human identity, and experience one night with Caleb...






EXTENDED SNIPPET READING:

LOCATION UNDISCLOSED AND CONFIDENTIAL
F irst it had been vamps and weres. Then felines and mages. Then finally wraiths and shape-shifters. One by one, the Otherborn had been discovered by humans. Over the next five years, they’d run the gamut of emotions together: fear and exhilaration, hope and despair, suspicion and hostility.
And then, just when the fighting had ended and Mahone had taken a breath, amazed that he’d managed to survive it all, he’d been visited by a Goddess with plans to annihilate every living creature on earth. Even more surprising, she’d apparently believed that he, Kyle Mahone, generic human, FBI grunt, and allaround fuck-up at heart, held the key to stopping her.
By the look on her face right now, she no longer did.
Even as Mahone stared at the Goddess Essenia, sensation and thoughts numbed by drugs immediately flared to life. White-hot pain made him jerk and gasp, while at the same time his mind, his soul, his being—whatever the hell one chose to label his life force—greedily latched on to the feelings that had never been so crystal clear with purpose. He felt the zing of blood pumping through his veins, the crackle of neurons firing in his brain, and the powerful beat of his heart thudding in his chest cavity. Every cell inside him shouted. He lived. He breathed. He existed. At the same time, he was consumed by a heady, life-altering knowledge, one granted to him by the being who’d appeared in his room.
He lived, but only because she permitted it.
He lived, but only because she had the power to sustain life or end it.
He knew she wanted to end it.
Despite everything he and the Para-Ops team had done in the past two months to fulfill the bargain he’d struck with her, he sensed her resolve. Her disappointment. In him. In all of her children.
Growling at the knowledge, he forced his eyes to remain open. He stared despite the light that surrounded her, so intense that most were blind to it unless she chose to reveal herself. Yet again, he was stunned by the power of her visage, one so beautiful and so frightening it made him think of Medusa, the creature with snakes for hair and the ability to turn any man who looked directly at her into stone.
Her soft, melodious laugh drifted toward him. The sound was ethereal. Soothing. Mahone actually felt his wounds healing. Pain ebbed, replaced by a pleasure so intense it made his body shudder in near orgasmic pulses. He threw back his head and groaned, his body arching off the bed so that only his skull and heels made contact with the mattress.
“Medusa was but a myth, Human. Yet another boogeyman created by your kind to fulfill its need for darkness and violence.” Essenia drifted closer to him and waved her hand over his body. The riotous sensations quivering through his muscles ceased until he once more lay in the bed, the sweat on his brow and the dull, medicated pain of his wounds a blessing. “Your wounds are just another manifestation of the inability of my offspring to exist in peace. No matter how I try, no matter the chances I’ve granted, it is always the same.”
Gut clenching with the effort it cost him, Mahone forced himself to sit up. “The team . . .” he gasped. “We accomplished our first mission. We proved humans and Otherborn can work together.”
The being shook her head. “Even your statement highlights the chasm between my children. And your mission? One small victory drowned by a sea of greed and violence. Look what happened to you in the process. Your success cannot make up for centuries of deception and violence.”
“It doesn’t have to,” Mahone reasoned desperately. “The prophecy doesn’t speak of the whole world, nor the whole nation. Only of six. The ability of six, each from different races, to unite with one purpose. To act as one for the greater good of all.”
“Something they have not yet been able to achieve,” she reminded him. “With respect to the dharmire and his mate? I never doubted they would unite. The others?” She laughed again, but this time the sound was rife with rancor. “Give it up, Mahone. They are too caught up in their own agendas. Their own pain.”
Mahone automatically thought of the two Para-Ops team members who posed the greatest challenge, but plowed ahead anyway. “They can come together. They will.”
“Wraith? Dex? You don’t know the darkness inside them, Mahone. Even with the information your men have collected, you have only the barest hint of a clue. No, you made a mistake when you chose them.”
“Wraith has proven herself. She’s put herself in danger time and again. To help others. O’Flare. Me.”
She shook off his arguments with a wave of her hand. “I think it’s best we stop playing this game and start over. Humanity has proven itself unworthy of the gifts I have bestowed upon it. I have come to a decision, but I will make your end painless. You, who have endeavored to serve me, will—”
Enraged, Mahone pulled at the tubes and needles piercing his skin, immediately causing several machines next to the bed to beep in alarm. He stood, swayed on his feet, then steadied himself with one arm braced against the bed. Breathing hard and fighting the nausea that twisted in his gut, he nonetheless forced himself to walk closer to the glowing, celestial being. “It’s not your decision to make,” he rasped. “You are bound by the agreement we made. I have done what you asked of me, and so must you. You—”
He felt her fury in the blast of heat she threw at him, knocking him off his feet and back onto the bed. Then she was upon him, hovering over him, doing what, for lack of a better description, could only be seen as straddling his body. “I created you,” she hissed. “I am required to do nothing. Do you think O’Flare could have rescued you, with Wraith’s help or not, if I hadn’t wanted him to? I am the law and I make the law.”
At her statement, a flash of skepticism ran through him. Just as he had before, when she’d shown herself to him before Caleb’s rescue, he wondered who she answered to. Somehow he knew, even if she made the law, someone or something had the power to veto her decisions. Even now, a tinge of desperation edged her words, telling him that her threats were a way to maintain control, to keep her cover as the most powerful deity so he wouldn’t guess that something else, something darker and more ominous, threatened them. Where his idea of God fit into all this, he couldn’t know. But Essenia wanted Mahone to contradict her, to persuade her to give her children another chance, so that’s what he tried to do.
“You made the law,” Mahone gasped, failing to look away even as blisters began to mark his face. “You laid down your decree. Even you must follow it; otherwise, your word has no worth. Your existence no meaning. Your prophecy is recorded in the mage’s texts, and you sought me out, not the other way around. Now you want to change the rules?”
The heat emanating from her grew more intense. His hospital gown and the sheets twisted around him began to smolder. His already-chapped lips split, and he could suddenly taste his own blood. Maybe he’d been wrong after all. Maybe the Goddess really wasn’t feigning her bad intentions. He forced back an agonized, terror-filled scream, refusing to give her the satisfaction of hearing it.
But then the heat waned as she backed away.
He could see his words had swayed her, so he kept talking, his voice harsh in his parched throat. “You gave me one year to prove that my team can make an impact. We can help your children once again live in peace, despite the darkness that will always be among them and within them. Perfection wasn’t our deal, nor is it demanded by the prophecy. We need only show a tipping of the scales in favor of the goodness of humanity.”
Essenia’s renewed anger flashed through the room once again, and he involuntarily closed his eyes against the horror of it.
He heard her voice reverberate around him. Inside him. “Why do you continue to rally for them? I’ve taken everything away from you, Mahone. Any chance of the life you hoped to spend with Bianca. Yet you fight for your survival. For that of your kindred.”
At the thought of Bianca, another kind of pain shot through him. Why did he fight for the survival of humanity when there were times he himself believed they were lost? Maybe for the very reason Bianca, the vampire Queen and Knox Devereaux’s mother, had been reunited with her husband and why he could accept it.
Hope.
“You question my persistence? Even though you chose me and won’t tell me why? I don’t know what answer you want. All I know is you created us.” Or had some hand in that creation, he thought. “You imbued us with both strengths and weaknesses, but with one strength above all. The ability to learn. To change. To grow. We might not be doing it with the speed you wish, we might have fucked up again and again, but we deserve another chance. Please.”
For several long minutes, she said nothing. Then she waved her hand, silencing the beeping machines abruptly. She nodded, causing him to shudder in relief.
“Very well. Continue with this game, but the outcome won’t change. Humanity is lost, Mahone. You cling to visions of what could have been, just as I once did.”
“Just hold to our bargain. Let my team show you what they’re capable of.”
“The bargain stands. For now. You have until the end of one year. Then humanity will fall in order to be reborn.”
~*~

Thank you for stopping in and spending a little bit of your Saturday with me. I believe you'll find this series to be a fabulous romantic paranormal suspense series. Virna really does know how to meshed the two genres together to create the kind of edge-of-you-seat suspense that keeps you flipping the pages. If you've already read this series what did you think? If not, what did you think of the snippet? Interesting?




NOR SPINET Review: Wolf's Eye by Mara Lee


Wolf's Eye
Mara Lee
Review Rating:
5 Stars

Series: Nikki Reece, Book One
Release Date: June 15, 2012
Publisher: Liquid Silver
Age Group: Adult
Category: Paranormal Romance
Pages: 178 pages in PPB

Back of the Book:
Life is fragile, and no one knows that better than Nicolette Sinclaire Reece. She protects … for a price. In a world ruled by magic, no one is left to protect the humans, no one but Nikki.

But when a dangerous creature is unleashed in her city, all the lines of magic will be crossed in an effort to stop the massacre. With the aid of the King of the Shifters and some childhood friends, Nikki plans on taking back her city!



REVIEW SPINET:
Written by CYD for NOR
I wondered what Ms. Lee was up to and if she had any intention of finishing her Dennison Lee – Magi/Wolf series, but this series just like the aforementioned one, has plenty to keep the reader royally entertained.
Ms. Lee’s world is both futuristic and fascinating; ‘mankind’ is firmly split between those with magic and power and those who are considered inconsequential. The weak and lowly humans have to fend for themselves, as they are firmly on the bottom rung...


Thank you for join in another NOR Review SPINET! 
Finish reading the review at Night Owl reviews by clicking the image below!


Thursday, August 30, 2012

Book Spotlight Featuring The Strix by Katalina Leon & Amber Akyze

Please help me welcome authors Katalina Leon and Amber Skyze here today for a book spotlight featuring The Stix, an erotic paranormal romance.

Welcome Katalina and Amber!



The Strix
Katalina Leon and Amber Skyze
The Bag Of Tricks series, Book one

Genre: Paranormal erotic-romance, vampire, historical, parallel worlds.
Publisher: Loose Id LLC

Date of Publication: July 17, 2012
Number of pages: 262
Word Count: 83,134

Back of the Book:
A cursed amber amulet unearthed in Pompeii flings Arcona into a past life of witchcraft, bloodshed, revenge, and sexual slavery to the cruel Master of a gladiatorial school. This violent parallel world is populated with “Slayers,” blood-drinking immortals devoted to the gods of war and mayhem.
As a Strix, or malignant witch, Arcona once used sex and blood rituals to create a race of immortal warriors to unleash on Rome. Now it’s time to pay.
The gladiator Tyr was one desperately lonely lover she betrayed. Against his will, she turned him into Upir Likhyi, a foul vampire. For two millennia he’s lived a grim existence as a Slayer, in constant sexual arousal yet denied release; now, he's pissed off and wants revenge. He kidnaps Arcona, planning to drink her dry and break the curse.
Along the way Arcona and Tyr relive their sexual slavery at the hands of Rome and blood sport in the arena, but the real magic is they forgive and fall in love.
Too bad another Slayer wants them dead.
Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual situations, graphic language, and material that some readers may find objectionable: anal play/intercourse, dubious consent, female/female sexual practices.



ENJOY AN EXCERPT:
 (Arcona is speaking to Salem witch Dame Bishop in the Silver Moon Scrying Shoppe)

“Are you familiar with the legend of the Strix?”

“No.” Arcona shook her head, noting that the amulet was warming almost too quickly in her cool palm.

“You won’t find this myth in many books; few know or speak of the Strix. The Strix was a compilation of all ancient Rome’s guilty fears about the so-called barbarians they enslaved, punished, and brought under their own roofs as domestics, lovers, and lethal entertainment. The Strix combined fearful barbarian lore and Roman superstitions in a single horrific creature that traveled the night as a grotesque bird of prey, sucking the blood from innocent people and turning them against Rome.

“The Strix might start life as a worshipper of Hecate, the goddess of witchcraft and necromancy. She could be born Roman or Celtic and work as a healer, witch, or midwife, but somewhere along the way, hatred and the need for revenge against the oppressor corrupted the witch’s capacity for doing good. Rage and destruction took the place of healing acts. Stray witches made bargains with dark forces in exchange for the power to grant invincibility in battle to others, who in turn would walk the earth in violent wrath.”

Arcona grimaced. “The Strix sounds absolutely repulsive.”

“She isn’t, and by the way the Strix is always a she. The essence of Venus imbued the Strix with the power to seduce and sexually torment any young man she approached. She sought out strong, battle-worthy men. Her victims were powerless to refuse. At the climax of the sexual act, she’d drink their blood and send them into a violent rage. During these unnatural couplings, rarely but sometimes a male, Upir Likhyi, was created.”

Arcona was almost afraid to ask. “What’s an Upir Likhyi?” She struggled to pronounce the unwieldy words.

“It’s an old pagan Baltic term for wicked or foul vampire. It is a revenant, or undead soul, that seeks the thrill of blood sport and warfare. In ancient times many were recruited to secretly serve Mars.”

A shiver trembled up her spine. “We certainly don’t need any more of those violent, bloodsucking sorts hanging around, that’s for sure.” She laughed with nervous self-consciousness until she noticed Dame Bishop’s serious face. It was apparent she did not share the dismissive attitude.

Arcona struggled to compose herself. “I don’t mean to sound so disrespectful, because I love mythology too. It’s had a huge influence over human history, but myths are just a way to explain human desires and behavior. I’m a bit puzzled that you’re talking about the Strix as if it’s a real entity.”

Dame Bishop blanched. “It is a real entity. Make no mistake; every myth carries a grain of truth within. There are realms loosely tethered to this one far stranger than anything you can imagine. To say these realms are less real than ours is to profess the Earth is flat. It is a statement only the ignorant can speak freely.”

“I’m sorry.” Damn, she really put her foot in it. Arcona gently lowered the amulet back into its box. “Thank you for sharing this with me. It’s fascinating.”

She gazed at the skeletal bronze birds and strange craftsmanship one last time. “How exactly did you come across this? A rare artifact of this age seems like it should be safely stashed in a museum.”

“I agree.” Dame Bishop’s expression brightened. “Some associates of mine at the Universita di Roma know my interest in such things and were kind enough to allow me to examine the amulet.”

“I’m familiar with the University of Rome! My ex-husband once taught there. Who are your contacts; perhaps I know them?”

“I highly doubt it.” Dame Bishop’s mouth drew tense. “My colleagues are very private people.” Her gaze dropped toward the amulet. “Tomorrow it’s headed to the Smithsonian in an armored car. I just wanted to share it with one last soul before it continued on its journey to lie locked away in some sterile vault until the curators can figure out what to do with it.”

A heightened gleam shone in Dame Bishop’s eyes as she lifted the amulet from the box and held it toward Arcona. “Why don’t you try it on? Just to see what it feels like.” A sly smile crossed her lips. “This is a bit of living history. You may never get an opportunity like this again.”

Something about the amber riveted Arcona’s attention. The center of the amulet was translucent and glowed like a fiery ember. Against her better judgment about carelessly handling antiquities and possibly ill-gotten property, she reached for the leather thong and looped it around her neck.

The amulet hung heavy and prominent atop her breasts. Arcona glanced downward. This was a big, bold piece of ornamentation obviously meant to immediately identify its wearer as a witch who had wandered over to the dark side.

A loud knock pounded on the front door of the shop.

Arcona started.

“Excuse me.” Dame Bishop pulled the curtain to the back room aside. “Let me see who’s at the door.”

Arcona was left alone in the back room to gaze down at the amulet and decided that in spite of the somewhat disturbing bronze motifs it was actually very beautiful and must have made a strong impression in its day.

The warm, subtle scent of amber resin reached her nose. She sniffed again in disbelief, knowing there was no way this ancient piece of fossilized amber could possibly be emitting a scent.

She inhaled the mystery fragrance, and sure enough, the rich scent of earthy amber was filling the air. She glanced around curious to know if there was anything near that could possibly be the source of the aroma and saw nothing she could hold to account. 

She glanced toward the curtain. What was Dame Bishop up to? She didn’t hear anything going on in the front of the shop. All was silent.

She turned to leave the back room, and her knees buckled. A moment of extreme dizziness knocked her off balance and sent her flailing toward the dusty countertop in a scrambling attempt to keep from falling to the floor.

She blinked in shock as she doubled over the countertop. God, it was getting warm in here. Her skin felt burning hot. She gasped and tugged her coat away from her body, but it didn’t help.

A terrifying sensation of thousands of vicious needle jabs prickled the tender soles of her feet and spread upward. She struggled to kick her tall leather boots free of her feet but couldn’t. The burning sensations licked higher up her legs. She gulped air, fighting rising panic. Her skin felt crispy as if it were being cooked. The pain escalated until it was unendurable. “Help!”

The curtain of the back room was thrown open, and Dame Bishop appeared. “What’s wrong, dear?”

Arcona pulled herself upright. Suddenly nothing was wrong, except the sleeves of her trench coat were covered in dust up to the elbows from writhing against the countertop. The horrid burning sensation left as swiftly as it had arrived. “Dear God, that was weird. For a moment it felt like I was on fire.”

“Really?” Dame Bishop didn’t look the least bit surprised.

“Really. I think this amulet is cursed. Wearing it feels awful.”

“Cursed?” Dame Bishop balked. “I thought you were a skeptic?”

“I’m still a skeptic, but I’m telling you there is something unwholesome about this piece of jewelry. Perhaps it should be kept in a sterile museum vault.”

“Hold on a minute. Don’t be so quick to judge.” Dame Bishop wagged an admonishing finger in the air. “You were the one who was burning. Maybe we should concentrate on that.”

“Are you implying that what just happened to me was my fault? I put the amulet on and immediately felt like I was on fire. That never happens to me. Does that sort of thing happen to you? It’s kind of weird. I think I’m entitled to blame the amulet.” She half listened to herself, cringing at the childish tone of her argument.

Arcona took told of the leather thong and tried to yank the amulet over her head, but it tangled in her long auburn hair. She grasped the bronze setting and tried to untangle the thong. The setting hooked onto her sweater and clung like a bur. “Look at this thing!” She tugged at the amulet in exasperation. “It’s like an octopus grapping me.”

“Leave it alone,” Dame Bishop said tersely. “Don’t provoke it.”

“What?” Arcona frowned. “I want it off.”

“It’s not coming off, at least not until it’s ready.”

“No way.” Arcona grabbed the thong and gave it a sharp upward yank. A hellish burning sensation reminiscent of having cooked skin peeled from her bones racked her. “Oh my God!” she wailed.

She let go of the amulet, and the pain stopped in an instant.

Dame Bishop’s brow creased with serious concern.

“You didn’t know this would happen, did you?” Arcona fought a rising sense of panic. “Please take it off me. I don’t want it near me, and I’m afraid to touch it.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Dame Bishop took a cautious step backward. “I can’t take it off you. You’re the only one who can free yourself.”


Author Bio Katalina Leon:
I’m an artist, an author, mother and wife. I write for Loose Id Publishing and Ellora’s Cave. I try to bring a touch of the mystical and a big sense of adventure to everything I write because I believe there’s a bold, kick-ass heroine inside all of us who wants to take a wild ride with a strong worthy hero. 
Night Owl Reviews Author page | Seven Sexy Scribes blog |
 Katalina’s blog | Ellora’s Cave 

Guest Author & Recipe Featuring W. Lynn Chantale

Please help me extend a warm welcome to author W. Lynn Chantale who’s here today to dish on her latest release and fork over a fabulous recipe I’m dying to try! Maybe I’ll even get my husband to cook it for me!




Welcome, Ms. Chantale!    

I love when my husband cooks for me. Hmm, let me rephrase that, I love when anyone else cooks dinner, breakfast, lunch, a snack, brunch. Yeah, I hate to cook. Some readers and fans know I have a Culinary Arts degree. That doesn’t mean I like to cook. However my characters are big fans of being in the kitchen and this time I mean in the capacity in which it should be used. :-)
In Lust and Bound, Zach shares a part of his past in that he had aspirations of becoming a chef. Trisha, while she never wanted to be a chef, just loves being in the kitchen, cooking or otherwise.
So I thought I’d share a tried and true recipe. My family loves this dish and while it’s evolved over the years to accommodate growing teenagers, it’s easy to tweak to your tastes.

Linguine in a Shrimp Alfredo Sauce

1 pound medium size shrimp (about 16-24), peeled, deveined, cooked frozen can be used just unthaw and remove the tails.
1 pound thick cut bacon
4 oz sun-dried tomatoes, cut into thin strips (optional)
1 pound linguine
4 cups chicken broth
1 cup heavy cream
3-4 cloves, minced
8 oz grated parmesan
3 TBLS butter
Salt
Cornstarch

Cook bacon, cut or break into one inch size pieces. Reserve about a tablespoon of bacon fat. Saute garlic and shrimp. Remove the shrimp and set aside. Add bacon, sun dried tomatoes, if using and about 3 and 1/2 cups of chicken broth. Allow this mixture to reduce to about half. Add cream, butter and stir in about half the cheese. The sauce may be very runny at this point. If this works for you go for it. If not next step will be to add about 2-3 TBLS cornstarch to 1/2 cup broth until smooth, then pour into pan with mixture. Stir until thickened. If it’s not thick enough to suit your taste, add more corn starch. Adjust salt. Add shrimp, toss with cooked pasta and garnish with remaining Parmesan.

In my house this serves five. You can also add broccoli or use grilled chicken instead of shrimp. Have fun with the dish and make it your own.

 Note: When adding cornstarch to a hot liquid, always put the desired amount of starch in a dish add liquid, then add to hot mixture. Also if the sauce gets too thick thin with cornstarch, but the sauce should be like a thin gravy.

Enjoy!


Lust and Bound
W. Lynn Chantale

Back of the Book:
Trisha, a recent divorcee, wants to explore the wilder side of sex and discover a more sensuous part of herself. When long-time client Zach Walters suggests a weekend together, she agrees. He provides her with an unforgettable night of hot, sweaty sex, while unbeknownst to either of them the tryst is being recorded.

No woman has ever excited Zach Wallace like Trisha. He’s willing to indulge his fantasies as well as hers, but he can’t afford to get too close. He has a weakness for damsels in distress and a secret to protect. Only one thing threatens their happiness—a vengeful ex-husband.



ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
W. Lynn Chantale resides in southeastern Michigan. Writing has been a passion for as long as she can remembered. Given an ultimatum of either getting published or giving up writing. W. Lynn chose to get published and has never looked back.
Married to her high school sweetheart and romantic heartthrob, they’ve been together for the last twenty years. She has a mad affinity for milk chocolate, preferably Dove chocolate truffles or the caramel-filled squares (Godiva is acceptable), and plays the bass guitar when the Muse begs for a bit of distraction.
She’s a multi-published author as well as a member of Romance Writers of America as well Greater Detroit Romance Writers of America, Passionate Ink and Kiss of Death groups.

Keep up with Ms. Chantale

 Download my free Author App to your Android or Apple IOS device.

ENJOY AN EXCERPT:
Zach fumbled the plastic card in the metal slot. When the mechanism whirred and clicked, he twisted the knob, but paused. “I have one rule.” His gaze never left her face.
Trisha met his hungry stare, her lips parting. “What’s that?”
“I don’t share.”
A thrill rippled through her body at the possessive note in his deep, rasping voice.
“Me either.”
“You can still walk away.”
 Walk away? Was he nuts? She’d waited months for this moment, for freedom. Still, as his eyes raked over her body, waiting for her decision, a tiny seed of doubt wiggled in the back of her mind. She squared her shoulders. Nope. She wasn’t going home until she knew what made her eyes roll to the back of her head and she wanted him to show her.
“I’m not...”
He shouldered open the door and dragged her to him. The cool kiss of the textured wall greeted her bare shoulders as his mouth, hot and demanding, found hers. She sighed against his lips, jerking his shirt free from his waistband. He cupped her breast, his thumb stroking her nipple. Fire danced through her veins, pooled low. Her heart skipped a beat when he yanked the chiffon from her shoulders, ripping the sheer fabric.
Lifting his head, he flashed a quick smile, his mist-gray eyes shining with heat and mischief. “I hope you weren’t too attached to this dress.”
She didn’t care how he got her clothes off, just as long as he got them off. Her pulse raced and her breath quickened when the thin silk of her slip followed the fate of her dress. Trisha slid her hands beneath his shirt, his skin warm and smooth beneath her palms.
“Now what am I supposed to wear home?”
Zach grabbed her wrists, shackling them in one large hand and raising her arms above her head. She gasped as her breasts thrust upwards, straining for attention. “We’ll worry about that later.” He dipped his head, capturing one taut peak in his mouth.
She arched against him as desire further hardened her nipples and set her blood to simmering. His fingers brushed the curve of her hip, before drifting lower, tracing the sensitive skin below her garter belt.
“You’re a bit naughty, Trish,” he whispered against her mouth.
Her answering chuckle melted into a moan when his fingers stroked her damp pussy. His eyes widened when his hand met no barrier.
“Very naughty indeed,” he murmured. He leaned away, cool air skittering across her heated flesh. “I’ve waited so long for this.”
“Too long,” she agreed.
Pivoting, he grabbed her hand and led her into the bedroom. The king-size bed dominated the room and sat in front of the mirrored doors to the closet. Artificial candlelight flickered around the room, casting muted shadows against the wallpaper while the soft scent of jasmine wafted through the air.
 Warm fuzzies squeezed her heart. Despite being a day early he had surprised her. She stepped forward, her nylon-clad feet skimming against something cool and satiny. Rose petals trailed from the door to the bed. She perched on the edge of the bed, too overwhelmed to speak.
When she focused on him, he watched her with a hooded expression.
“It seems like you’ve thought about this, haven’t you?”
He tucked a curl behind her ear. “I get one chance to make a lasting impression.”
“Thank you.”
His eyes widened when she shoved him back on the bed and straddled his legs. The bulge grew and hardened beneath her thigh. She worked at loosening his tie. Once unknotted, she tossed it aside and focused on the buttons. With each button released from its mooring she revealed more of his amazing body. She pushed the shirt aside to trace the large, colorful dragon/koi tattoo that began on his left pec and wrapped around his bicep to disappear onto his back. Anticipation coiled in her belly. Oh how she wanted to find out how far his tattoo went.
“You’ve tortured me enough tonight and I think it’s time you paid up,” she murmured against his lips. She skimmed light, teasing kisses from his mouth to his jaw.
A startled gasp escaped her lips when he shifted and blanketed her body with his. He captured her wrists in one large hand and held them above her head.
“One day, very soon, I’m going have you tied and helpless beneath me.”
She sucked in a breath, holding his gaze, unwilling to admit how much she wanted the same thing.
He traced the swell of her breasts just above the neckline of her corset. “But there is one image of you I can’t seem to get out of my head.” He touched his lips to hers in a long, drugging kiss that left her craving more. “Are you game?”
“I’m yours for the weekend.”
He chuckled, a smoldering look scorching her body. She responded to that look. “Oh, I like how that sounds.”
Heat crept into her cheeks as she realized what she’d said. “I—uh, yeah.”
He nipped at her neck, even as he settled deeper into the vee of her thighs. The heavy bulge of his erection rubbed against her core. Instinctively she raised her hips in greeting.
“I want to watch you, beautiful,” he murmured against her lips.
She stiffened. “Watch me what?”
He rolled off her and helped her to sitting. “I want to watch you climax, before I send you over the edge again.”


Thank you for stopping in and joining Ms. Chantale in celebrating her book release!


A Contemporary Thursday Featuring Author Lora Leigh


Happy Thursday everyone!

For today's Contemporary Thursday I'm sharing another oldie but goodie. Yeah, I know I do this a lot but some real gems are lost with all the hundreds of monthly releases that there are times readers miss a good one. So in my attempt to keep the past releases alive I've pulled up a favorite author of mine that really never lets me down. Lora Leigh pushes the boundaries in romance-be it her paranormal or military romance series. She brings new light to small towns and the lethal ties they sometimes bring in fictional worlds and she never fails to deliver high suspense and action with her intricate military plots.

Today I've picked out from one of her contemporary military romantic suspense books titled Maverick. It released in March of 2009 but I didn't discover it's release until late 2010. From there I devoured all of Lora Leigh's books and anxiously await each new one to hit the market.

Here's to anyone that missed this release as I did, to anyone new to the genre or just coming of age to read this material. And to anyone that likes revisiting previously read books. Re-reading is never a burden when you enjoyed the first go-'round. ;)

Happy Reading!


Maverick
Lora Leigh

Back of the Book:
Micah Sloane knows almost everything there is to know about Risa Clay, including the vicious betrayal she endured years ago and the distrust she's harbored ever since. The only way for the Elite Ops agent to uncover an assassin - and banish the ghosts of his own dark past - is to use Risa as bait. But nothing has prepared him for her disarming blend of innocence and sensuality, or for his overwhelming need to protect her...Risa has spent six years rebuilding her life. And now, to save it, she must pose as Micah's lover and draw a killer into the open. It's a risky plan - especially with a man as powerfully seductive as Micah. But, as their charade becomes reality, Risa realizes the greatest danger may lie in losing her heart forever.




EXTENDED EXCERPT:


“THAT’S MICAH.”
Risa heard Morganna’s statement at her ear, but she couldn’t turn away from the black eyes that held her. Eyes as deep, as dark as the night, yet there was something that sparked with warmth, that kept those eyes from being cold.
His expression was still. There was a hint of hardness, a suggestion of danger carefully leashed. But she couldn’t expect anything less from a friend of four former Navy SEALs.
Still, the very stillness of expression was comforting. As though he knew himself, his strengths and weaknesses, and had learned to live with his own demons. He wouldn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, or on his face. He was reserved. She understood reserved.
His entire body reflected his expression. He didn’t move as though he were in a hurry. There was no anticipation, no sense of urgency. His body was coordinated, lean, tough. Fit.
Black slacks conformed to his muscular legs and hips. The white shirt beneath the black jacket was a hint of color in an otherwise dark ocean of still emotions and graceful male confidence. His hair was cut close to the scalp, but still the thick black strands would be long enough for a woman to thread her fingers through.
And what made her think of that? she wondered. Why did her fingers suddenly clench on her purse as she wondered what his hair would feel like beneath them.
It was his eyes that held her, though, that called to her. They stroked over her face, always came back to her eyes, and some softening within them, a hint of male interest, of determination, had her heart racing through her body with a force that left her trembling.
She had expected him to be strong, powerful. He was, yet it was a subtle strength and power. His body wasn’t bulky with muscle and straining against his clothes. He was lean, corded. Male power shimmered around him, but it wasn’t heavy and wide such as Kell’s was. Kell Krieger was tall, his shoulders like a football player’s, padded with muscle. Even Reno and Clint were like towers of muscle and strength. Micah Sloane was just as tall as they were, but the bulk was absent. Some might suspect the strength was absent. She had a feeling whoever made that mistake would come to regret it.
“It’s about time you arrived,” Clint drawled from the other side of Morganna as Micah Sloane moved to the vacant chair across from her.
He shook Clint’s hand as the other man rose, repeated the move with Reno, Kell, and Ian. His eyes didn’t leave Risa’s.
“Micah, would you like to meet our friend Risa?” There was a hint of amusement in Morganna’s voice now.
“I believe I just have.” His words didn’t rise above the music. It was as though the music paused for him alone, certain it would regret foiling his wishes if it didn’t.
“Mr. Sloane.” Risa nodded, barely able to swallow past the nervousness that rose in her throat.
His hand moved across the table. She had no choice but to loosen her fingers from her purse and allow him to take them. She expected a handshake, firm and determined. She didn’t expect his hand to encase hers, his fingers to stroke against her wrist for one brief second, as though to ease the pulse pounding out of control there.
Then the warmth of his hand was gone, leaving her to regret the brevity of the contact as he loosened the button on his jacket and took his seat.
He leaned back in the chair and answered some question Kell had asked. His gaze came back to her, though it was never gone for long.
He didn’t demand that she stare into his eyes. The caress of his gaze was subtle, slow. It wasn’t enough to draw others’ interest, it was shielded by thick black lashes, but nothing could dim the effect it had on her.
“Risa Clay, meet Micah Sloane, a SEAL assigned to Durango team,” Clint introduced them.
Micah never once looked below her chin, but she swore she could feel the warmth of that look flowing over her body. His attention wasn’t crude; it wasn’t obtrusive. It was simply there. A stroke along her brow, along her chin. It touched her hair, her ear when she tucked the strands nervously behind it.
“Risa, Micah likes to play with cameras as well.” Kell leaned forward to speak to her, his green eyes bright in his somber expression. “The man carries a camera with him everywhere he goes.”
Risa’s heart was pounding; she felt flushed, frightened. She needed to get away from the careful stroke of his eyes on her.
She couldn’t answer Kell. She couldn’t form a reasonable reply. Pushing to her feet, she tried to form an excuse to escape to the ladies’ room, but Micah’s eyes were on her, probing, questioning. She couldn’t form a single reasonable sentence. She turned and rushed from the table, weaving her way through the crowd and escaping to the dimly lit corridor and the tastefully appointed ladies’ room beyond.
She pushed through the door, let it swing closed behind her, and felt like crying out in relief that the room was empty. The velvet and tasteful walnut chairs sat in several groupings outside the main stall area. A long counter of sinks could be glimpsed on the other side of the wall, the bright lights picking up the forest green and amber gold color in the walls and floors.
It was cool, soothing, and she felt like a complete fool. Her heart was racing, perspiration dotted her forehead, and fear was like a maniacal pulse of searing heat burning inside her veins.
Pressing her hand to her stomach, she breathed in deeply and straightened from the wall. She was going to get a handle on this, she promised herself. She wouldn’t run again.
Turning on the cold water in one of the faucets, she held her wrists under the stream of soothing water and berated herself for her reaction. What the hell was wrong with her? She was going to do this. Micah Sloane was a damned good-looking man. He was safe. He wouldn’t hurt her. And he was interested.
She might be a plain Jane, but he was a man, and she wasn’t stupid. There had been interest in his eyes. Sexual interest.
One night, she wailed silently. Just one night. God, please give me the strength to make a memory instead of a nightmare. 

~*~

Thanks for stopping in!

Now it's your turn! Who is your favorite military hero?




Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Book Spotlight Featuring Serafina and the Silent Vampire by Marie Treanor

A huge thank you to Bewitching Blog Tours and author Marie Treanor for letting me tag along on this release day blitz for an extra day though it ended yesterday. I really wanted in on sharing this release with everyone! :)

So as you already know we have Marie here today to dish on Serafina and the Silent Vampire that released yesterday. Below you'll find all the goodies on the book and an excerpt to enjoy. I must add that I absolutely love this cover!



Happy Reading!

SERAFINA AND THE SILENT VAMPIRE
Serafina’s Book One
By Marie Treanor

OUT NOW

Back of the book:
Silence has never been so sinful…
Welcome to Edinburgh's unique psychic investigation agency, Serafina's.
Serafina MacBride is psychic - but not strictly honest. While staging a hilarious vampire attack at a client's party, Sera is stunned to encounter a real vampire - annoying, gorgeous and inaudible to everyone but her. When her client's son is found dead with puncture wounds in his neck, she tracks the silent vampire to his lair.
But the amoral and seductive  Blair is also on a mission - to find and kill a nest of young vampires who've invaded his territory. Soon Sera is drawn into the bizarre world of the undead, where danger lurks in the shadows along with forbidden sensual delights - and a murderous conspiracy to flood the world with financially astute vampires who talk.
Supported and hindered by Blair's eccentric, undead friends, and by her own motley crew from Serafina's, Sera and Blair uncover surprising truths about each other and about the mysterious Founder from whom all vampires are descended.
In the end, Sera draws on powers she never knew she had in a frantic fight to defeat the forces of evil and preserve the strange, complicated being  she's trying so hard not to love.


Click through for an extended excerpt!

NOR SPINET Review: If I Were You by Lisa Renee Jones


If I were you
Lisa Renee Jones

Series:Inside Out Trilogy, Book 1
Release Date: August 24, 2012
Publisher: SP
Age Group: Adult
Category: Contemporary Erotic Romance
Pages: 330 pages in PPB

Back of the Book:
He is rich and famous, and dark in ways I shouldn’t find intriguing, but I do. I so do. I don’t understand why his dark side appeals to me, but the attraction between us is rich with velvety promises of satisfaction. Chris is dark, and so are his desires, but I cannot turn away. He is damaged beneath his confident good looks and need for control, and in some way, I feel he needs me. I need him.
FIFTY SHADES OF GREY MEETS BASIC INSTINCTS



REVIEW SPINET:
Written by ELF for NOR
This is a sensual tale that weaves an intriguing mystery even as it explores one woman’s lifestyle and struggle with her career choice. The opening scene conjures up a forbidden fascination with elements of BDSM and a voyeuristic look at one woman’s experiences. Ms Jones does a wonderful job of capturing the reader’s attention and sprinkling intriguing characters throughout the story even as she seeds the story with echoes of Rebecca’s journey displayed by several of the female characters. There are fascinating juxtapositions of Sara’s necessarily stringent lifestyle and the hedonistic experiences provided by Chris as well as intriguing descriptions of the temptations offered to change her ‘vanilla’ experiences into something darker... 
Thank you for join in me our first NOR Review SPINET! 
Finish reading the review by clicking the image below!



Tuesday, August 28, 2012

A Cozy Mystery Wednesday Featuring Author Annette Blair


It's been one heck of a week. Make that month! I apologize for missing so many book features but today I'm back with a great cozy mystery to welcome the cooler weather moving in...some where! Not sure where anyone is feeling the ease of the hot summer days fade into autumn but I'm wishing I were there right now!

On to the book feature!

Today I am featuring author Annette Blair's Berkley Crime title Cloaked in Malice, A Vintage Magic Cozy Mystery, that release this past July. I've read the entire series of four previous titles and recommend it to all cozy mystery lovers! This author is my top favorite in this genre. She write with a quick hand and her characters always strike a cord with me. Here's an extended snippet for you to enjoy and after you've read it I'd love to hear your thoughts on the author or genre. AND this title shot Ms. Blair onto the New York Times Bestseller list! Congratulations, Ms. Blair!

Monday, August 27, 2012

Book Spotlight Featuring Remedy Maker by Sheri Fredircks


Please help me welcome author Sheri Fredricks to BIR today to share her latest release, Remedy Maker!  (love the cover!) Below you'll find all the details about her book and a fabulous excerpt and giveaway to enjoy!


Welcome Sheri!
Click to Follow This Tour & Read Interviews & More Guest Posts


Remedy Maker
Sheri Fredricks

Purchase: 
Amazon

Back of the Book:

Man by day, Centaur by night, Rhycious is a remedy maker who needs his own healing. 
He's the royal physician, famous for his cures. War and posttraumatic stress disorder has broken his spirit, preventing him from finding true happiness. Then a direct order from the queen to investigate an uprising forces him out of his secluded cabin at the edge of the forest.
Patience is an optimistic, good-natured Wood Nymph who works as a mediator to ensure harmony within the Nymph sector. 
Environmental pollution in the aquifer stream that feeds the taproot tree of her heart is slowly killing her. Resigned to the fact she will not live long, she sets out to discover the mysterious disappearance of her sister. Experience has taught her to deny herself the love of a male, but the gruff Centaur is different. He doesn't push his expectations on her, only his healing nature.
When Rhycious loses his grip on reality, he believes his inability to control his disorder will drive Patience away. Nevertheless, desire flares, and Patience draws him close. Kidnapping and betrayal turn their mythic joint venture into a deadly bout. 
Will their love endure when survival hinges on trusting each other?


ENJOY AN EXCERPT:
Patience cried out, her inner muscles clenching around him in quickening pulses. Teeth gritted, neck straining, barely the presence of mind to wait for her to reach the finish line together.
Gods, she was so blessedly tight around him, it was hard to do.
Rhycious wanted to fuck her hard, make her come over and again until she couldn’t think of anything but him.
Her keening cries and arched back took his willpower away. Unable to hold out much longer, he reached between their bodies and rubbed his finger across her enflamed little clit. Muscles clamped down on his cock so strongly that together they reached their peak.
Their mingled breaths panted as their mythic bodies mated. The thin golden thread holding it all together snapped and set them free. Rhycious was fighting compulsion, fighting base need, fighting to collapse the wall between Centaur and Wood Nymph forever.
He growled in bursts of animalistic successions, jerking his hips as he fought her body for depth. Her inner muscles convulsed, milking him for all he was worth. With a deafening roar, he came apart. Hot spurts shot out and he couldn’t restrain himself. He hooked an arm around the back of her knee, pulling her leg high, and thrust against their mutual spasms.
Breathing rapidly, Rhycious collapsed over her, careful not to allow his full, sated weight to crush her. Eyes closed, he let the warmth of Patience’s soul seep into his, healing him from the inside out.
To calm his racing heart, he took a deep breath. Blood pounded in his ears, knocking like a fist to his skull. He couldn’t move. Hell, he didn’t want to, and why should he when he was so comfortable right where he was.
The writhing under him mewed and stroked his back, gaining his attention.
“What? You want air?” He chuckled and rolled to his side, cuddling her close. “You’re lucky I have the energy left.”
Carefully pulling out his semi-erection, he lifted his hand to cover his eyes and groaned. “My hangover is worse than I thought. I swear there’s someone banging around inside my head.”
Patience giggled and poked him in the side. “That’s what I’ve been trying to informate you on. Someone’s at the door.”
What?
He jerked to a sitting position and bolted off the floor bed. Air beads inside the futon mattress crackled like trampled nutshells in a bag as he jumped to his wobbly feet. He grabbed his jeans off the chair.
“Pan’s holy hooves, woman! Why didn’t you say anything?” He jabbed his legs into his pants, zipping them up, forgoing the top button. “Shit. Where’d I put the gun?” He whipped his head about, turning to look around him.
“On the dresser.” Laughter in her voice, Patience held the bed sheet in front of her, pushing her sexy, bed tousled hair out of her eyes. “I’ll get dressed.”
With a flick of his thumb, the gun’s cylinder kicked open to the side. He checked the ammo—all six rounds in place. A quick jerk of his wrist snapped the wheel shut.
“You,” he pointed his finger at her, “aren’t going anywhere. Get dressed if you like but stay in here.” Distraction from whoever kicked his door was the last thing Rhycious needed.
Not waiting for her sexy red lips to form the rebuttal scowling from her eyes, he opened the stallroom door and slid through, shutting it securely behind him.
The knocking in his head transferred to a fierce pounding at the front door. Picking up the pace, he jogged down the short hall and went to the kitchen window to peer out.
Beneath the covering of a broad leather flap, a thick black tail swished with irritation. Evenly spaced brass studs decorated the edge of the bottom layer of body armor like a formally dressed armadillo. Attached to the annoyed rear appendage, the golden body belonged to no other than Kempor Aleksander himself.
Before Alek could splinter his door with all his hoof hammerings, Rhycious threw it open and took a step out.
“Get off my porch.” Rhycious took another step. “Get out of my sight.” He poked Alek in the chest. “And don’t come back till October!”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Always on the hunt for the uncommon things in life, author Sheri Fredricks thrives on creating adventures in her mythological kingdom for her readers.
A former engineering secretary, Sheri lives on the beautiful central coast of California. "I wanted to move away from inflexible right angles and create an unboxed world with no boundaries." A voracious reader since her early years, Sheri found her brain crowded with stories and characters of her own. "Ultimately," she says, "my husband encouraged me to write them all down."
Sheri loves to spend time at home. A computer hutch keeps her focused on creating stories, but the panoramic view of life on a ranch will call her outside to play in the sun.

Hang out with Sheri at: