Monday, June 3, 2013

Monday Blues Promotion: Open Promo day!

Yep...we're back! And because I'm too brain dead to think, I don't have a theme for today.

All I can say is, have fun, post a scene that reflects that. Tease us, tantalize us, scare us, give us suspense!

Add your title, author name, a buy link, or link to your website.

Whatcha got for us?


    Curled on his body in the middle of Central Park, Roman let Stella sleep. Holding her wasn’t a hardship as his mind wandered to the future, their future. Foolhardy, definitely, but what else could he do when he held the object of his obsession in his arms?
    Remember your promise and let her go.
    He stroked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear and slid his fingers down her silky cheek. She nuzzled him, turned her face into his palm and kissed him. Every noble intention evaporated like a bead of sizzling water in a hot skillet. Cock rock hard, he had to kiss her, feel her breath on his skin, in his body. In the deserted park, he needed her now.
    The fine hairs on the back of his neck bristled. He froze. Battle instincts surged to the forefront, screaming for action, instead, he listened to the night surrounding him and waited. Though not a hub of wildlife, the creatures of Central Park were silent. They also waited. Somewhere, nearby, a predator stalked.
    He nudged Stella. She stretched, making him aware of every curve and hollow she possessed, and purred, a sexy rumble deep in her throat. Before she could say a word, he cupped her head and pulled her into a quick kiss.
    “Shhh, we’re in danger,” he whispered against her lips.
    Her head popped up and she eased off him. In the gloom, her frightened eyes met his. “What?” She mouthed.
    “We have to get out of here.”
    Crouched low, he took her hand, together they crawled along next to the hedge. He looked over. His keen eyesight picked up nothing and no one. So why did the same excitement he used to get before a battle race through his veins? Stella squeezed his hand. Her wide eyes sent him a question he couldn’t answer.
    He drew his gun from the small of his back and the silencer from his jacket pocket.
    “Roman?” Her voice wavered.
    He spared her a glance. “Whatever happens, do exactly as I say. Understand?”
    Her head bobbed on her neck.
    “Walk beside me, not in front or behind. Got it?”
    Not far from the nearest road, they stuck to the trees and away from the open expanse of the Great Lawn.
    Leaves crunched behind them. He’d never run from anything in his life. Even before the curse and his immortality, he stood his ground and killed everything in his path. Now, whatever stalked him, stalked her. His senses told him only one lurked in the darkness, but with Stella to protect, he couldn’t risk it.
    The Delacorte amphitheater loomed ahead. He guided her into the shadows. Stationed behind a statue, he aimed and watched the route they had just taken. Stella clutched his jacket, her shivering body pressed close.
    “Tell me.”
    “There’s someone out there.”
    “It could be anyone, ’kids maybe?”
    “Maybe.” He agreed purely to reassure her. But as he spoke, one hundred yards away, something peeled away from the shadows of a large tree and charged.
    “Stay.” He ordered. Through his jacket, her nails dug into his back. He pulled away, but she wouldn’t let go. He shrugged out of his jacket and advanced. She called to him, begging him to return, but the blood rushing in his ears drown out her voice. He rushed forward and focused on the attacking foe.
    Wait. He skidded to a halt. He had a shot, but . . . something was wrong. The height was too short. Whoever ran toward him must be a child—or running on all fours. He squinted at the slice of darkness closing the distance between them. The tree coverage ended and speckled moonlight dotted the Great Lawn, uncovering the thing barreling forward. For a split second his mind tried to unravel the impossible nightmare quickly shrinking the distance, before he fired three shots between its widely spaced eyes. It roared and charged faster.
    “Run, Stella!” He fired running back to the theater. She hadn’t listened. Instead of running away, she met him. He grabbed her hand and ran, but she couldn’t keep up, and the thing behind them closed the distance.

  2. This is a snippet from one of my favorite scenes in my upcoming release Bachelor's Special. Here you get a taste of the heroine's POV as well as the heroes POV. Although this doesn't release until June 10th, I've included the links because it is available for preorder. Happy Reading :)

    Her body hummed as his smile wavered. Although he wore
    sunglasses, she’d bet her last dollar his gaze swept across her chest,
    lingering on the betrayal of her pert nipples pushing against the
    fabric of her suit.
    Until this moment, shyness had never been a trait she
    possessed. Air stalled in her lungs, her palms grew sweaty, and
    she itched to cover herself with a towel. Even though her replica
    vintage swimsuit hid more than most sets of women’s underwear,
    she felt too exposed. She turned to the side slightly and folded her
    legs up. Not that it helped, but it made her feel a bit less exposed.
    Chet slid his feet from his sandals, brushing a hand through
    his hair. The heat from the sun wasn’t the only thing scorching her
    skin. She trickled several droplets of water over her arms, but she
    couldn’t drag her focus from his toned flesh.
    Jill soaked in his ripped abs and the obvious package of
    goodies covered by his brown swimsuit—the same sexy brown as
    his hair. Damn, did a man have a right to fill out a pair of swimming
    trunks like that? Flecks of hair, just enough to give him a manly
    appeal, covered the etched muscles of his long, tan legs.
    She licked her lips, hoping she could still speak. “Do you want
    some privacy?” Yes, say yes. She needed an excuse to make an
    escape without coming off like someone desperate to be making
    an exit.

    Hell no, he didn’t want privacy. Through the shield of his sunglasses,
    he inspected her body from the tips of her pink-painted toenails
    to the top of her brightly flowered swimming cap. Did people still
    actually wear those things? “No, you look comfortable. Stay and
    enjoy the day.”
    “Oh…are you sure?”
    Amazed at his own ability to talk without his tongue hitting
    the cement, Chet turned to throw his towel and sunglasses on a
    nearby lounge chair. Damn.
    The red and white polka-dot halter-style suit featured a tight
    bodice, but her slender hips and shapely thighs hiding beneath
    a matching skirt grabbed his attention until all oxygen left his
    blood. Even showing less skin than the average girl on the beach,
    she far exceeded sexy and alluring.
    Get a grip, Castle. She’s off limits, no matter how delectable.
    He turned and stepped onto the diving board. He bounced
    along the surface as he made his way over the water. When he
    looked at Jill’s bathing cap covering her head, he held back his
    grin. The neon rubber flowers reminded him of something his
    grandmother would’ve worn, but there the similarity ended.
    Everything beneath that cap was far from making him think of

  3. This is from "Trusting Again" which released today. It's a spicy romance, book #4 in the Second Chances series from Crimson Romance. The scene takes place at the home of Marius Hernandez where he's brought Cynthia Blaine after running into her at a benefit auction. Enjoy!

    From every angle of the deck that seemed to wrap around much of the house, there was a view of the downtown city skyline. All the iconic Seattle symbols were there—the Space Needle, Elliott Bay, a couple of ferries, Mt. Rainier. It was the most stunning view of the city she’d ever seen from a private home.

    “Oh. My. God.” She apparently said it loud enough for him to hear. He came out and stood beside her, his hand over hers on the railing. She stepped away from him, trying to be casual about it.

    “I had the same reaction the first time I saw the house,” he said. “As soon as I saw this view, I made an offer. Didn’t even ask for an inspection and never saw the bedrooms until I moved in.”

    “Marius, this is the most amazing...”

    He traced her cheekbone with his index finger. “Say that again.” His voice was warm and husky.

    She moved back a step and gave him a puzzled look. “This is the most amazing...?”

    “No, the first part. Say my name again.”


    “I like hearing you say it.” He lifted her hand from the railing and, overcoming her initial resistance, brought it to his mouth and kissed it. “I’ll like it even better when you’re in my arms and say it. When you’re in my bed.”

    She pulled her hand free of his. “What makes you think that’s going to happen?” She knew her voice sounded shaky and it annoyed her.

    “It won’t happen tonight but eventually it will, querida. We both know it will. There’s been something between us since the day I walked into the gallery. Something very good and very powerful.”

    As if to prove what he was saying, he gathered her into his arms. She knew she should probably put up at least a token resistance, but she couldn’t find the will to, because he was right. There was a strong pull, a potent chemistry between them.

    For weeks, she’d been thinking about what it would feel like to have his arms around her, to rest her head against his chest and listen to his heartbeat, to feel the heat of his body against hers. She’d thought about the exotic smell of his aftershave, the warmth of his brown eyes looking into hers; she’d wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

    And now he was doing what she’d fantasized, tipping her chin up, looking deep into her eyes before holding her face with one hand and kissing her.

    “Trusting Again”

  4. This is from my latest release, The Sin Eater’s Redemption, which just earned its’ first review today (four stars)…’s a contemporary/paranormal/second chance at love tale set in the Ozark Mountains.
    Lucas left the swing to offer her his hand and she took it. “Come dance with me,” he said, the last thing she expected to hear from his lips. “It’s something I’ve dreamed about a thousand times.”
    Enchanted, Tessa took his hand and he led her out into the yard. They slow danced together in the moonlight. At first there was no music but the crickets and the other night insects but Lucas began singing an old Jim Croce song from long before their time. She remembered the name of it, Time In A Bottle. They’d heard it on an oldies radio station in their teens and both liked the poignant tune. Lucas bought a Croce CD the next day and for a long time, Tessa recalled, it’d been their song. Maybe it still was, she thought, with hope.

  5. Keegan didn’t know what to say. His first clash with her had distracted him to the point of madness. It had been some time since he’d had such a powerful encounter with a woman. The last one to push his buttons that hard, he wound up marrying.

    Caitlin was stubborn, mouthy, somewhat insubordinate, and filled with an innate force he had not seen in sometime. She had no problem in standing up for who or what she believed in. He didn’t like the feelings she stirred in him. He dare not consider them. Especially with her. She was a subordinate and a cryo. It was against regulations for him to even think of starting anything with her.

    He shifted his stance. His heart pounded in his ears and breaths quickened. “Ms. Driskoll. I don’t know what you expect from me.”

    “Nothing more than I expect from myself.”

    Before he knew it, he crossed the distance between them and swept her into a searing kiss. He caressed her body, touching every curve. Arousal sped through his body like lightening. He dug his fingers in her hair and hungrily dominated her mouth, his tongue delving in, playing with hers. Gripping her waist, he lifted her up and placed on her the table. She arched her neck exposing her creamy skin. He nipped and bit at it enjoying its smoothness. He reached up and caressed her breasts, a need filling him to see them, taste them.

    He was ready to slip off into oblivion when he remembered himself. It was the middle of the day; they were in a briefing room and would be caught. Breaking off the kiss, he raised his hands in surrender.

    “Jesus,” he said in between breaths.

    “What?” she panted, as she straightened her uniform.

    “Please leave. Just go.” He closed his eyes, wrestling his feelings into submission. Holding them down, he shuddered. Dear God, help me. He needed her so badly. His breathing slowed to a normal rate. When he opened his eyes, she was gone.

    “Sir, you’re needed on the bridge,” the voice on the com said.

    “Be right there,” he replied, grateful for the distraction.

    buy link:

  6. Here is a snippet from teh 3rd book in my Circles Trilogy - Circles Interlocked.
    Julie is handed a letter that her lover, Robert wrote before he want to rescue her.

    Julie's fingers trembled as she opened the envelope.
    If you're reading this then something went wrong and I guess I'm dead. Sorry. But that's only one more screw up to add to my list. I've messed things up a lot in this relationship. Why do people who should never be together fall in love?
    I should've never met you and I certainly shouldn't have fallen in love with you, but I did. I never stopped loving you once in the years we were apart. Telling you this now seems a little stupid, I guess I should've done it before I let you go back to Langston.
    A long time ago - in high school - we had to write an assignment for our last English essay. You and I had broken up and everyone was mad at me for being such a bastard. For my essay, I handed in a poem. Yea me, I wrote a poem. Mrs. Wolmsely liked it - hell, she gave me an "A".
    She wanted to read it in class. She was hoping you'd forgive me. Which is exactly what I didn't want. I wanted you to go dance. I wanted you to live out your dream. I'm sorry I screwed up on that. Anyway, this is my poem. I've revised it a bit. It was only two verses long then. I wanted to call it LOVE SUCKS, but I didn't think Mrs. Wolmsely would like that.
    She possessed my being -
    Gave me a future -
    A life.
    Our souls intertwined -
    Fantasies fulfilled

    Reality intruded.
    One's dream realized
    One's destroyed.
    A heart broken
    The pain -
    Where a heart should be
    A void existed.
    The expanse of days
    Became years.
    A dream withered.

    By chance -
    Two faces meet
    And smile
    Lips touch
    Love strikes once more.

    My being possessed -
    Desires fulfilled -
    A dream revived.
    A future
    With Love!

    I don't know why I told you all this. All I wanted to do is tell you I love you, but it seemed cold and impersonal on paper. Please don't grieve for me. Remember our good times together. Forget the bad stuff. Have a happy life, full of love and joy.
    With Love,

  7. This is from my latest release, Sloane Wolf:

    What was it about this man that rattled her so and with so little effort on his part? Sharing the same air with him was enough to send her pulses to the moon—and her mind somewhere else, something new for her. Being this attracted to a man was beyond her realm of experience. She didn’t know what to do with it—or about it. Should she do anything? Should she pretend indifference? And why wasn’t he so deeply affected? It wasn’t fair.

    Still confused, she gave him a weak smile, intent on backing up her previous claim with the gesture. She feared it failed miserably. When Micah returned her smile and lifted his hand from her knee, she felt precisely one second of relief before he shook her world again by caressing her face in parting. She stumbled
    back against the frame of the window, her lips parting on a startled breath as a lightning bolt shot through her at his touch. Something flickered in his eyes at her reaction—pain, perhaps—and he retracted his hand, balling it into a fist as he turned away from her, preparing to depart.

    In an instant, she realized her mistake. Along with it came the knowledge she couldn’t let him go away angry or upset. After everything he and his family had done for her, she owed him that much. She grabbed him by the shirtfront to stop him, and a shock of awareness shot from her hand directly into his heart, just beneath it. She could see it in the gaze he leveled on her then, could hear it in his breath trapped within his lungs, feel it in the missed beat of his heart. But then, all sense abandoned her, and her heart skipped a beat as he held her hand firmly to his chest with one of his own and lifted the other to her head, anchoring it against the window frame. Slowly, his eyes never straying from hers, he leaned across the space separating them. His lips brushed hers, like a whisper, before he withdrew, tilted his head to the side, and advanced again. This time the kiss was fuller, penetrating her every defense, both physical and emotional, but still not long enough for her. He retreated once again after a fraction of time and hovered before her, scarcely an inch away. Watching her. Waiting.

    Her heart beating a frantic tempo now, Shiloh abandoned all of her reservations and her good sense to swoop in for a more vigorous kiss. So vigorous, in fact, she knocked him off his perch through the open window. Only quick reflexes honed to perfection at the Institute prevented her from tumbling after him.
    Bracing herself against the sill, she leaned out the window as far as she was able and watched his descent from the slanted roof to the ground below. She lost sight of him the moment he slid beyond the reach of the light from her window. But then she heard him land with a thud —and a howl—on the ground in front of the back porch when he failed to catch himself on the roof edge. She clasped a hand over her mouth to silence her reaction and waited. When he didn’t rouse right away, panic shot through her and she leaned out another few inches.

    “Micah? Are you okay?”

    “Fine,” he answered after a few moments, appearing beyond the overhang of the roof as if to prove it to her. “Nothing hurt but what’s left of my pride.”

    Relief coursed through her at his statement, and she allowed herself the laugh she’d literally held back before. Her mirth was cut short, however, by his next words.

    “Hey, Shiloh! We’ve got to stop falling for each other like this.”

    His laughter followed her as she ducked back into the room. She could still hear it even after she closed the window, though not as well. Oh, Lord. She rested against the cool pane of glass and touched her still-tingling lips with shaky fingers. Was she? Falling for him? Was that what this crazy-mad feeling inside of her was?

    The question plagued her long into the night.

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  8. I've been doing copy-edits all day, so I'm not much better than you. These excerpts are wonderful. Here is mind from The Secret Life of Miss Anna Marsh that went on pre-order on Amazon today.
    I give you what will be the teaser in the book when it's released.

    Anna’s heart beat faster as his lips reached her throat. When he kissed her, she thought nothing could be better; then his tongue moved against hers, and she thought she’d swoon. She tried to put her arms around him, but they were trapped under his body. It was as if he were possessing her. Thank God he didn’t know who she was.
    “Anna, tell me what you’re doing here,” Rutherford whispered into her ear.
    “How did you know it was me? I thought you were just kissing . . . ”
    He started at her in disbelief. “You thought I’d just kiss any woman? What the hell do you take me for?”
    She struggled to sit up, but his body weighed her down. “I haven’t even given you leave to kiss me, and you’re doing even more!”
    “Harumph.” He bent his head to kiss her again. “And I plan to continue.”
    “Sebastian!” She wiggled to get out from under him.
    “Anna. Be still. I’ll let you up when you tell me what you’re doing here. Until then . . . ”