Thank you, Jennah, for having me on you blog today.
I’m really excited about Her Everything, my latest contribution to Decadent Publishing’s 1Night Stand series. For those not familiar, this is a fun collection of short stories by various authors and written for a variety of genres. All the stories have one thing in common; Madame Eve, the owner of 1Night Stand, whose goal is to provide her clients with a happy ending beyond a single night.
The clients in this case are Rachel and Mark. They had the good fortune to wind up on Madame Eve’s radar and get the surprise of a lifetime. And since the story takes place in Las Vegas, I guess I could say they hit the jackpot! :)
Not that I know what it feels like to hit a jackpot—I shy away from gambling because I don’t find losing money all that enjoyable. And that’s about sums up my experience. LOL.
So, here’s a little about Her Everything.
Rachel Turner made a mistake—a couple, in fact. Ruining a surprise meeting with the front man to her favorite band is just the beginning. But agreeing to switch places with her famous sister may spell the end of both of their careers. With rumors flying and an unexpected invitation from Madame Eve, Rachel hopes she can put the mistakes behind her.
Attending an event to support a charity close to his heart, Mark Travis wasn’t looking for love, or even company—and definitely not with a fan. But when he puts in a hasty bid at a silent auction and wins the services of 1Night Stand, Madame Eve has something different in mind. A single evening with a woman she claims can fulfill his needs. But one night might not be enough.
Come morning, will Mark and Rachel’s unexpected one-night stand give them more than they bargained for?
On the dance floor, Mark tugged her waist to pull her close. With one hand clasped in his and the other resting on his shoulder, she followed his lead. He danced with the same confidence and style as he walked—sure, commanding, and…so incredibly hot.
Thanks to the four-inch Louboutins Rachel had borrowed from her sister, the top of her head barely reached his chin, but high enough, if she dared, to rest her temple against his cheek. Though tempted to find out if the stubble along his jaw was as soft as it looked, she didn’t dare. But, oh, how she wanted to. At least they were close enough that the spicy scent of his cologne surrounded her.
A love song played, its lyrics about longing the perfect fit for her one-and-only dance with the man she’d admired so long from afar.
“You didn’t come back.” His voice, rough and low, vibrated against her cheek.
She tilted her head to meet his gaze. The intimate proximity allowed her an up-close-and-personal view of his brown eyes, their color reminding her of the amaretto she favored.
His hold on her shifted, bringing them closer, the difference slight, but welcome. The nerves at her waist sizzled under the weight of his palm, while his thumb rubbed the exposed skin of her back. She shivered again from the simple touch, and an answering heat flared in his eyes.
“I…I got called away to help my sister.” She stumbled on the near lie. But, truth be told, she never dreamed Mark would give her a second thought after she’d left, his disinterest so plain to see.
So he knew who she was then? “Yes, she’s my sister.”
Rachel allowed him to spin her before replying. “That’s correct.”
“I didn’t realize at first. The glasses threw me off, as did your hair.” He smiled then. “Even so, you two are not identical.”
Aside from her and Sasha’s obvious style differences and voices, very few people were able to tell them apart. A knot formed in Rachel’s throat. She didn’t like where his comment appeared to be leading or the way his movements slowed and his brow furrowed.
He met her eyes. “Was that you on stage tonight?”
Tara lives in upstate New York with her wonderful husband and two fabulous children.
Saturday, October 18, 2014
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Please welcome V.S. Morgan to the blog! She's another great author in the Beyond Fairytales line with Decadent Publishing.
Realizing his latest assignment violates those rules, the hunter activates Princess Protocol and the assassin becomes the protector. Red hot attraction flares between the hit man and his former target.
Can Hunter resist the sweet shifter in his care?
Purchase: Decadent Publishing | iTunes | Kobo | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | ARe
He stepped closer to Casey’s stall but stumbled over something small and furry. The toe of one Birkenstock caught on a clump of grass as he attempted not to trample the little beast, and he ass-planted with said beast jumping onto his chest to give him a broad doggie smile.
His buddy laughed piss-your-pants-hard in his ear. Fuck a duck.
The target he’d worked so hard to observe remotely sank to the ground between his sprawled-out legs, peeling the tiny hairball off his chest and setting it on the ground.
“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”
Big blue eyes fringed with long, pale lashes scanned his body while strong yet gentle hands moved over his ankles and legs, searching for an injury. Oh, a toucher. His wolf basked in the tactile attention. His breath hitched as those hands glided past his knees and skimmed his thighs.
Damn, he needed to get laid after this assignment.
“Oh, my, what a li’l sweetie. Look at those freckles! I wonder if he’s got them everywhere. I’d like to lick them,” Rex crowed in his ear.
The other man chortled. “Possessive, much?”
He inhaled deeply, only to be slammed with the force of a Mack truck. Strawberries on a warm summer’s day and fresh-cut grass—shit, his target smelled delicious. He took another breath, and his brain reeled. He’s a wolf shifter, too? Fuck. Casey’s brows furrowed. “Where are you hurt?”
He forced a smile. “I’m fine. No worries.”
Casey returned the smile, his wide and high beam combined with sparkling eyes. Hunter stared as warmth wrapped around him like a blanket. He had no ammo against such a happy, open expression. The guy freaking glowed.
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About the AuthorV.S. Morgan has lived all over the US but calls Minnesota her home now. Her family includes her hubby, son, and a menagerie of pets.
She's been writing stories since she could hold a pencil and dreams of happily ever afters - even for two hot men - because love knows no boundaries. V.S. writes MC/IR contemporary, paranormal, and suspense m/m and m/f with heart. She plans to branch into fantasy and sci fi romance, as well.
V.S. is a GLBT ally and a lifetime contributor of The Trevor Project.
Facebook and Goodreads: V.S. Morgan
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Please welcome Vicki Ballante to the blog today as she celebrates her new release At Second Glance!
Kirk pines for his ex-wife, but realizes he must move forward. After several stimulating online chats, he believes she might be the one for him. Smart, sexy, willing to experiment and learn. But when he happens across his ex, all his plans fly out the window.
Will Merryn learn to relax and have fun without giving her heart? Can Kirk forget the past and become the man he longs to be?
Purchase: Decadent | Barnes and Noble | Amazon | Smashwords | All Romance
While the warm spray fell on her, he came up behind her, his male form tight against her. She gave a shaky sigh, longing rising within her again. He pressed his erection against her backside cheeks and eased in between them. She liked the sensation of pressure against her butt, teasing her crack. Was she ready to explore this?
“Tell me if you wish for me to stop.”
He kissed the back of her neck, the roughness of his slight stubble sending shivers down her spine. She arched her neck, and his cock hardened, entering her crack, enticing her. She twisted under his touch, the water making them slick and smooth against each other. Their bodies writhed together, and she spun around for him to put his dick into her. Her wet breasts rubbed his chest. He gave her a tentative kiss, tasting her mouth with his tongue. Fire shot into her belly as their tongues connected, but he didn’t thrust into her yet. As he slicked his torso against her nipples roughly, tingles of pleasure made delirium take over. Every part of her sexuality thrilled.
“Wait.” He stepped out of the shower, dripping wet puddles on a path to the room. He came back with another condom.
Her body was impatient. How could she wait? He came back to her and picked up where he left off, this time bringing his cock towards her. She had to stand on her tiptoes to take him inside her. With the moisture of the shower, he sank in with ease, the angle sending shards of pleasure through her core. He thrust gently at first, then more fervently. She could do nothing but groan as she climaxed, the sound of Kirk’s moans matching hers, his body thrashing against hers.
Exhausted, she soaped herself with her back to him, unable to face Kirk yet. She felt almost embarrassed at the way her wanton behavior took over.
Would he know how long she had wanted this? How she wished she had given them more of a chance? Or how much she still needed him? Could he know she’d dreamed about him at night in her sleep? Upon waking up, she’d regarded those dreams as crazy remnants of a disturbed marriage.
He picked up a facecloth and foamed it with soap. He rubbed it down her back, arms, legs, and derriere, all the while touching her gently with his body. Oh, how good his touch felt. Why couldn’t he have done this before, when she really needed it? The intimacy brought tears to her eyes, clogging her throat.
His reached his soaped hands around and cupped her breasts. She sighed with contentment. She’d needed his touch, his hands upon her in a perfect combination of firmness and gentleness. He showed no impatience or roughness except at their height of passion. Instead giving off all warmth and fire and sweet pleasure.
Was it the wretched wedding ring that had wrung out all the passion? Or had she changed? And he? There were no solid answers. She’d promised herself there wouldn’t be any emotional attachment. She had to leave before she wanted to stay the whole night. Without giving away her sudden panic, she stood under the spray to rinse, stepped out, grabbed a towel, and dried herself. While he soaped himself, she dressed and sat on the couch to wait for him, rubbing her hair with her fingertips to take out the intense moisture. Panic rose in her throat.
“Hi.” He came to the room, his hair glistening, his face relaxed, and a shy grin on his face.
A twinge of nausea ran through her. What had she just done? She’d made love to Kirk, her ex-husband, twice in one night, and had intimate contact in the shower. She’d bared a very personal need and part of her soul to the man she’d grown to hate years ago. He would expect more. His tenderness a few minutes ago had indicated that. She wasn’t ready for more. She’d already given him a part of her heart again. A part he could wring into a hurtful ball.
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About the Author
Vicki writes erotic and fantasy romance. She loves taking her characters into an alternate world where strange and sexy things happen. She lives with her patient husband and three noisy kids in South Africa. In between being a busy stay-at-home Mom who hates housework and spends half her life cooking everything from scratch, she runs several blogs, writes under another name, and buries herself in the delightful world of her characters. When growing up, her school friends asked her if she wanted to be a nun. She always said “no.” Wonder whether they’d agree if they read her books.
Find Vicki: Facebook | Blog | Twitter | Pinterest