Hot New Reads From Desiree Holt

Thought I'd take advantage of today's blog to give you a taste of my hot new reads.
From Ellora's Cave
http://www.jasminejade.com/

Driven By Hunge
Hunger drives the wolf. Hunger for food, for domination, for sexual satisfaction, and for revenge when one of their own is harmed. So it is when Hannah Raines is kidnapped by Rogan Mueller, and insane geneticist who wants the female shifter for his bizarre experiments. Rand Molina has not only been able to satisfy his hunger with Hannah as his new mate but also taught her that there is no limit to the carnal pleasures they can enjoy. He is both frightened and enraged by Hannah’s disappearance and hungers for revenge. Derek Sawyer, alpha of their small pack, has been seeking his mate for a long time. Fate delivers her in the person of Riesa Marlowe, a psychic who can give them clues as to where Hannah is. With Riesa he feeds his sexual appetite that strengthens his ability to lead his pack on a rescue mission. Two very hot couples and a dangerous situation. Will the fire burn brighter or will they all go down in flames?

Sedutive Illusion (with Allie Standifer)
For Sonia, winning the Valentine’s Singles Cruise was an opportunity to escape her fantasies about Chase and find a real man to fulfill them. Evan brought her screaming orgasms, inventive sex, and a new appreciation of every erotic zone in her body. After two nights with him there wasn’t a part of her he hadn’t licked, penetrated or tormented to fulfillment. As the relationship built and the sex grew hotter, she found herself pushing away memories of Chase. But on the third night of the cruise—the night of Valentine’s Day— Evan had a major surprise for Sonia and her life turned upside down.

From Total-e-bound
http://www.total-e-bound.com/
Game On
Brothers Mark and Jake had introduced Lisa Graham to more acts of eroticism than she’d ever fantasized about. Now they had invited her on a picnic, where everyone was nude, the main activity was a game of multiple partners, and she tumbled into new whirlpools of erotic sex. What would be next on the list?

Swingtime
Lanie Burrell was shocked to discover the reason Cody Hawkins was the only other neighbour on their private little cul de sac. He needed the privacy for the swinging parties he hosted featuring the kind of uninhibited group sex she read about in the erotic books she reviewed. At the moment they were the most exciting part of her sex life. Then Cody invited her to one of his parties, and she found a wildness within herself she hadn’t known existed. And an attraction between herself and Cody that exploded like a big bomb on a short fuse.

From Resplendence Publishing
http://www.resplendencepublishing.com/
The Bargain
Lara McKee‘s life came to a crashing halt the night her husband was killed in a carjacking and she lost their unborn child. Now she channels all her energy into her job as assistant to Cole Cassidy, sexy CEO of Alamo Construction. Cole’s own life is a mess. A shotgun marriage based on a lie and the fiery death of his wife on the highway have left him with a child to raise that’s a constant reminder of his first wife’s lies and deceit. Both of them have written marriage out of their future.
But Cole desperately needs someone to mother the child and take charge of his personal life. When he proposes a marriage of convenience to Lara, who still yearns for motherhood, she shocks herself by accepting. And so these two people, carrying a van load of emotional baggage, begin to build a life together under almost impossible circumstances. Conflict builds over the child, whom Lara falls in love with at once and Cole ignores.
Beneath the daily conflict, love unexpectedly begins to grow. But at the moment they dare to explore their feelings, anger over the child erupts and the night turns into a disaster that nearly destroys the marriage. Slowly, bit by bit, they begin to re build their relationship, carefully nurturing these new feelings. But it takes another near-tragedy before they can finally get past the hurdles to complete happiness and truly become a family.
Want to find out more? Visit me at

http://www.desireeholt.com/

http://www.desireeholttellsall.com/

It's been a long and wonderful year...

It's been totally amazing!

I can't begin to tell you how I feel about my experiences over the past twelve months since my first book was contracted. It's almost surreal. Having retired from my career job, ready to face a future of kicking back and doing nothing, I find myself now fully immersed in a brand new career...and loving every minute!

Meeting so many wonderful new friends, and doing something I only dreamed of before...it's completely mind-blowing. This week I held my very first print book in my hands, signed some for fans, and couldn't keep a huge grin off my face. It felt kewl!

So I am wishing myself a happy anniversary, and starting another book.

Fran Lee
http://www.franleeromance.com

An Interview with Mrs. Harper: Faerily Imperfect

I’ve been commissioned (well, not really as there is no pay involved) to interview one of my characters. There is one Bronwyn mentioned off her favorites list last week, that had me thinking: Gee, I want to get to know that wacky chick better. And because I always like interviewing the men, I thought I should shake it up a little and interview a female. However, this isn’t a main character female—not yet. She’s a secondary, cameo appearing character in the Faerily Imperfect series: The Mom.

The Mom has no name. Yet. I’m saying that word a lot, but it’s true. She hasn’t been given a name and we only know her as that crazy woman with a penchant for floral designs, doilies, and dildos. She adores her five children in her special spacey kind of way and is the mistress of guilt trips that circle randomly around without a starting point or an ending point. That’s right, I’m talking about Mrs. Harper, the full-blooded faery.

To understand her, you need a bit of background. She married a scientist and had five children of mixed breed. Because the faeries are known for their pranks, each child was given a faery ability only as reliable as their mother was intelligent. Since all the kids have extremely unreliable gifts, you can imagine what that says about her reasoning skills. Yet in her own special way, she’s kinda smart…sorta.

I walk into the house yoo-hooing. Her soft, musical voice calls me upstairs. My path takes me over rose and green printed carpet, across the foyer which is papered in rose and white stripes, dotted with plate sized rose heads. There’s a credenza on my right of dark mahogany and antiqued brass ornamentation. On top is an elaborately crocheted doily and a white vase holding a crazy array of pink and white Stargazer Lilies, neon yellow Sunflowers, pristine white Magnolia (which makes me want to sneeze), and brilliant orange Gazanias. There’s a large, purple Liatris sticking straight up through the middle like an obscene phallic reference among the clustered petals.

The house is older. It creaks with my steps even though the wood has been muffled by floor covering. I think about this as I tread up the carpeted stairs to the second floor. Mrs. Harper has framed several round doilies in ornate, gilded frames. Each contains pictures of one child in yearly progression, with a highschool graduation mug at the center. There are five which I climb past.

Cute, I think.

“Which one?” I hear her mutter, as I make my way around the top of the landing to the brightly lit room nearest the stairs.

“Which one, what?” I ask.

I shouldn’t have asked.

She’s sitting sideways on her bed with an impressive array of sex toys spread out on the quilted bedspread. I notice that each of the quilt squares features a different grouping of flowers. Only the throw pillows at the head of the bed are solid in color, picking up the vibrant floral tints. For that matter, each of her toys looked more like decorative accents than lewd objects.

“For the trip. I have to have the right ones. If I don’t have the right ones, I’ll wish I’d brought the right ones.”

“Is it that critical?”

She looks at me, her head tilted to one side, and her blue, almond-shaped eyes blinking at me like she doesn’t understand. Blonde hairs sift over her shoulder. Frozen like this, she’s ethereal. Light touches her from the window and Mrs. Harper seems to glow with life and energy. No wonder Mr. Harper was mesmerized. I can almost imagine gossamer wings of light and air behind her, but those are a thing of Hollywood.

“Critical? Well, of course it isn’t. I must have them,” she answers.

“So they aren’t critical?” I ask, confused.

“Yes.”

“Wait. They are critical?”

“Yes.” She smiles vacantly and nods her head which only makes more silken hair slide over her shoulder. Her long, slender fingers are plucking the purple head of an impressive plastic cock.

I decide to take a different tack.

“What will you need them for?” Really? Did I just ask that? I can see her answering in that obvious way that all sex toys are used for one thing—sex. But what I’d meant to reason through was the distinct purpose of each item and what she intended to need. Yet, no, that still sounds somehow wrong and personal.

“Creating life, silly,” she says.

Now I’m completely baffled.

“Are you trying to get pregnant again?” I hedge.

She laughs. It’s musical and floaty. “Of course not!” Then she gets serious again, and doe-eyed. I get nervous when she gets doe-eyed. “You can’t get pregnant with a toy unless it’s blessed.”

Whuh?

“Spring needs an orgasm,” she says, like I should understand.

“We all need orgasms,” I decide.

“Exactly!” She sighs, happy that I understand. Except I don’t. Not at all.

“Um. Mrs. Harper? How do you give spring an orgasm?” What? It had to be asked.

“Through The Great Fucking Festival. Or Festival of Fuck. They keep renaming these things.” Her brow furrows. “You should come. You’d like a good fuck.”

I’m trying hard not to laugh. She’s so sincere and it’s mean to laugh at the insane. “The toys are for your fucking festival?” I snark.

She beams at me. “And that’s why it’s critical that I pick the wrong one so I know which one is the right one.”

“Gotcha.” I don’t.

“So which one would be your pick?”

I walk a little closer. There’s a long crystal penis with ridges in cobalt blue and ruby studs. At the base, a rubber attachment houses a bullet with a curved rubbery projection for external stimulation. “That one.”

“I love that one. It’s exactly the right choice which, of course means, I won’t take it.” She nearly hops with joy. “You’re very good at this.”

I still haven’t figured out what “this” is. Or why it is except it involves festivities and fucking and sex toys… I think.

I turn to leave because really there are no guidelines when talking to Mrs. Harper. I’m even afraid to ask her for her name. Her kids are Sage, Dill, Flora and Fauna, and Willow. For all I know, her name is Posey, but that doesn’t ring true.

“Are you going now?” she asks as I leave.

“Nope, but you’re coming,” I throw back, hoping to confuse her like she’s confused me.

“Exactly.” There’s some silence as I continue down the steps. “Mia?”

“Yeah?” I answer.

“Thistle.”

“Pardon?”

“My name. It’s Thistle.” Then I hear her humming.

She’s moved on and so should I. Strangely, I no longer want to go. I want to find out all about the Festival of Fuck and offer myself up as a sacrifice on the Altar of Cock. You know, for the sake of unity among our people. Really.

Civic Duty

I'm on Jury Duty! Most attorneys don't want me on their jury because of almost 30 years working with law enforcement. But there were so many other potential jurors who were correctional officers or FBI agents or… You get the idea.

Anyway, the judge is a lovely young woman with a great sense of humor. She noticed on my voir dire that I'm an author and asked my what I write. Now, you have to understand that I'm probably the 2nd or 3rd oldest person in the entire courtroom. So when I said, "I write erotic romance," everybody laughed. Then one of the attorneys asked if people I meet end up in my stories. I told him no, but some eccentricities might. Everybody laughed again!

So that's what I'll be doing for the next couple of weeks. I'm trying to keep a positive attitude--civic duty and all that stuff--but I think the most interesting thing I'll get out of it is following the process from jury selection to verdict. And--wow!--it takes more than one hour.

Dee Brice

Loving an Irishman! Got one?

I am born American, but a German-English girl by blood. Then, I married an Irishman.
Similarities are few.
We like beer, his dark, mine not so.
We like potatoes, his boiled, mine baked.
We like talkative, fun people.
Over the many years we've been married, our tastes have blended. As you would expect.
But some things never change.
He's very Ein-Zwei, Ein-Zwei. How did that happen?
Me? I am creative. Loose.
He gets things DONE.
I push them along...as the spirit moves me.
I love him MADLY.
Do you have an Irish man in the house?
How's yours??????
Lovable, I bet!
Come over to visit me for excerpts and videos galore! http://cerisedeland.blogspot.com/

Research Required - Coming March 19th

Blurb:

Ethan’s on the run from the mob. He’s in for a surprise when he knocks on the door of his sister’s neighbor. The last thing he needs is a distraction like Bailey. She’s sexy and sassy and dressed in skimpy shorts—and he wants to take her where she stands.

Sex with a stranger? Bailey would never think of it. Ethan’s no stranger though, he’s her friend Jenna’s brother, so that makes him a friend too, right? Sex in the kitchen, sex in the bedroom, sex on the couch, it doesn’t matter. Bailey can’t get enough of this hot-blooded stranger.

Will Ethan’s past catch up to him and ruin any hopes for their future?

Excerpt:

“Shit!” Bailey screamed to her empty living room. “I’m never going to get this article in on time.” She stared down at the opened email about her interviewee. His publicist explained that an emergency had come up and he wasn’t going to be able to answer her questions after all. He was very sorry.
“Yeah, I bet he is,” she grumbled.
Bailey removed the pencil from her unruly blonde hair, causing it to tumble around her shoulders. She tucked a strand behind her ear to keep it from falling in front of her face.
On the pad of paper sitting on the couch next to her she jotted down some excuses she could give her editor to convince her she needed an extension on the deadline.
Dog died.
In a horrible car accident.
Computer crashed.
None of the things were good enough reasons to give her editor.
“Fuck! I’m screwed.” She stuck the pencil in her mouth and bit back the string of obscenities she knew were brewing.
Focusing on the computer, she logged into her favorite database website looking for a last-minute replacement for her interview. She had to have another guy’s perspective for this article. After all it was a relationship article for women from the male’s point of view. She had two resources, but her editor insisted on three minimum.
Just as she was updating what she was looking for the doorbell rang. As if on cue her stomach growled.
“Finally the pizza’s here.”
She placed her laptop on the coffee table, grabbed the twenty lying there and padded her bare feet over to the door.
“I’m starved,” she said as she swung the front door open.
She came face-to-face with a complete stranger.
“You can have me!” the ultra-sexy guy standing on her doorstep said.
She stood there, her mouth hanging open.
“You’re not Kyle.” But damn he was hot. H-O-T hot. Her nipples hardened under her t-shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra, because she wasn’t expecting company. Only Kyle and he didn’t look at her in that I-want-to-tear-off-all-your-clothes-and-fuck-you way. She felt the juices from her pussy pooling at her opening. It’d been way too long since she’d had sex. That had to be the reason her body was reacting this way.
“No, but I sure wish I was. Who is this lucky guy Kyle and how do I get rid of him so I can replace him?”
Bailey laughed, trying to ease the nervousness she felt being so close to this gorgeous creature.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“I’m looking for Jenna King. She was expecting me over an hour ago but she’s still not home. Do you happen to know where she might be?”
“Sorry. Haven’t heard from her.” Lucky Jenna. She’d found herself a guy Bailey wouldn’t mind having a one-night stand with. A booty call to end all booty calls. His arm muscles flexed as he rested his long, strong arm against the doorframe. Bailey yearned to know what it would feel like having his body hovering over hers, making her drip with sweat as he…
“Do you have a number where I could reach her? I tried her cell but she isn’t answering.”
Bailey tried to focus on what he was saying. She had to stop this daydreaming.
“Like I said before I don’t know where she is. Maybe you should come back later.” She attempted to close the door, but he stuck his foot in, blocking her.
“I wasn’t finished.”
Bailey wondered if she should be afraid of him, but that sparkle in his baby blue eyes told her she had nothing to fear.
“What’s your name?” she demanded.
“Ethan.” He smiled, revealing dimples.
Bailey melted under his intense smile.
“I’m sorry, Ethan. I don’t know who you are or what your business with Jenna is, but I’m not going to give out any information about her to some stranger. For all I know you could be some rapist or something.” In fact hadn’t she just read somewhere there was a guy going around posing as a cable guy raping innocent woman. Fear knotted in the pit of her stomach. “I have to go.”
She kicked his foot, hoping he’d move it, but it didn’t budge.
“I’m Jenna’s brother. I’m not going to rape anyone.” He reached behind him and Bailey screamed.
“Whoa! What are you screaming for?” He pulled out his wallet.
“I thought you— I…” What could she say? She thought he might be reaching for a gun or a knife to hurt her with?
“Look,” he said, removing his driver’s license.
She read his name. Ethan King. Same last name as Jenna.
“Okay, so you aren’t a murderer, but if Jenna was expecting you why didn’t she leave you a key or something?”
“I don’t know. I’m worried because it’s not like her to be late.”
“Ha! You don’t know your sister too well.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Jenna will be late to her own funeral. She can’t seem to arrive on time for anything.”
“Are we still talking about the same Jenna? Because my sister has been punctual since the day she was born. Our mother jokes about how she even came on her due date and not a minute late.”
Bailey couldn’t help but laugh. He was funny and cute and oh-so-sexy.
Just then Kyle decided to make his arrival.
“Got your pizza, Bailey. Sausage and peppers on one side, pepperoni on the other.”
She could see Ethan looking at her quizzically.
“What? I couldn’t decide what I wanted, so I ordered both.”
“Options. I love options.”
That twinkle in his eye didn’t go undetected. He was flirting with her.
“Thanks, Kyle.” She handed him the twenty. “Keep the change.”
“Enjoy the pizza.” He bounced away, happy with his tip.
“I’m going to eat my pizza before it gets cold. So if you’ll excuse me.”
“Look, before you go. I’ve traveled twenty-three hours in my cramped little car to get here. I’ve been outside Jenna’s door for another hour and I could use a soft chair to sit on.” His stomach growled.
She was under a tight deadline. She didn’t have time to make small talk with this stranger or share pizza. She had to dive back into her article while she ate. Then a thought hit her.
“I’ll feed you if you’ll answer a few questions for me. I’m working on an article for women. What men find appealing and what they don’t like.”
“I’m your go-to guy. I have a lot of experience in that field.”
Bailey hesitated. “Are you a player?” Because the last thing she needed was a player’s advice for her article.
His stomach growled again.
“Oh just come in,” she relented. She couldn’t leave Jenna’s brother on the doorstep waiting for her to come home, but if he was a player then he wouldn’t work for the article. She needed someone sincere. Someone honest.
She felt his eyes on her as she walked to the coffee table. Her skimpy shorts rode up her ass, revealing she wore no panties. He must love the view she was giving him, no matter how unintentional.
“Can I offer you a beer or soda or something?” She placed the pizza on the table and turned, practically bumping into his hard chest.
He was close. Dangerously close. If Bailey moved her head forward just a hair their lips would touch and she could find out what those sexy lips tasted like.
As if reading her mind he inched closer, reaching out to graze her lips.
Bailey licked the spot where his lips had met hers. She stood there mesmerized. She wanted more. She needed more. Her pussy lips swelled at the mere touch of his lips. She felt the electricity of his touch run through her down to the tip of her big toe.

Decisions that shape your life

I posted this on another blog and got such interesting answers I thought I'd do it again.

Decisions, decisions, decisions !!

Do you remember the decisions that shaped your life? The decisions you yourself made, not the ones fate forced on you? Sometimes they stick in your memory forever, and often you don’t even notice their importance at the time.

I made one when I was sixteen, in high school and thrilled to pieces when a handsome hunk (hereafter known as HH) asked me to a school dance. You don’t really want to know how long ago that was, do you? I’d secretly drooled for weeks over this guy, and could hardly believe my good luck. Then, only a week before the big dance, my very favorite aunt died suddenly. She’d always been the mainstay of our small, fatherless family, coming to visit whenever her teaching job allowed her to help out. I quite simply adored her.

On top of the sorrow of her death, I learned her funeral would be the weekend of the prom. Services were to be in another part of the state, and in order to attend, you guessed it, I would miss the dance. My mother, bless her, left it entirely up to me. So I had to decide on my own what to do.

You can imagine how I was pulled in opposite directions. Finally, after much agonizing, I chose to attend the last services for Aunt Ella. HH took the news with polite acceptance, and you guessed it, I never heard from him again, except to pass him in the school corridors.

Was I surprised? No. Was I devastated? Pretty much. Although even underneath my regret I was proud I’d made the right and hard decision. Ella had changed my life for the better in so many small ways. I do think that decision helped shape me for the better. I’m so glad I didn’t go the selfish route, although at the time it was hard, hard, hard.

Now I’d love to have you tell me if you can remember your first difficult decision. How you responded? How old were you? Did you make the same choice you’d make today?

Come on, I’ve told all, now you tell me about yourself.

At last!

Finally, after three months of waiting and anxious emails, NETTLEFLOWER is available from Amazon.com. Now I need to get it on Amazon.co.uk. See, I have a whole lot of people here in UK who want to get a copy of this (the local book group want it for one of their reads, the local library want copies -- well, they should get copies, I work there) BUT because Cerridwen don't have anything set up for UK booksellers, I'm stuck. If ANYONE has any ideas, please let me know...

On the writing front I confess I haven't done anything for months. Just after Christmas my husband suffered a minor stroke, and dealing with all the ramifications of that (the hospital/doctor visits, the tests, the waiting for results, etc.) has completely banjaxed my creative juices. I am hoping that my forthcoming vacation will loosen things up. Lord knows, after this last winter, I need to be somewhere warmer...