Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Humpday Hump--Lady of the Seals

For this Wednesday's entry, I'm offering an excerpt from Lady of the Seals, one of my favorites, an erotic selkie romance set in Scotland.

If you like what you read, you can find the book at Amazon, or check out the Smashwords edition for half off with the coupon code TW63G.

It was a dream, he thought. It had to be a dream. Or maybe it was heaven, because how else could this have come to pass? He had been halfway to death—more than halfway—and now he lay on the beach in the arms of a beautiful woman with large, brown eyes.

Barely conscious, he registered her presence as if she were a dream. But her skin against him warmed him, gave back some of the life the cold ocean had tried to take.

She was naked, he realized slowly, and so was he. They were rolled up together in a mass of heavy wool blankets, skin to skin, her breasts against his chest, her long legs scissored between his. He remembered, vaguely, the touch of her mouth on his as she put her own life’s breath into him. Now she shared her heat.

He looked at her in the darkness as she lay there against him. Her eyes were closed, and he was almost certain she slept. Gently, he drew his hands down her back, and set his lips against hers. She tasted of life, and the salty ocean. He opened her mouth with his, tasting more deeply, and she stirred against him, and opened her eyes with a smile.

His hands slid down her body, cupping the soft, warm roundness of her buttocks. Her thighs pressed against his and then opened loosely, inviting him in. Wrapped as they were in the blankets, it was difficult for him to align his body the right way, but he eased his thigh between hers as he kissed her. The wetness of her sex made hot dew on the skin of his leg.

She moved closer to him, all of her body a warm welcome to his. He hefted her breasts, bent to take one, then the other, into his mouth. Warmth and more warmth, silky and soft and beautiful.

“I’ll no’ hurt you,” he whispered, though she seemed to have no fear of him. Her hand slid between his thighs, pressing his scrotum against his body. The heat flashed through him, bringing him to life where the ocean had tried so hard to send him to death. She shifted her legs against his and the blankets eased around them. Her fingers, rising up the heavy length of his erection, eased him inside her.

He stilled there, enraptured by her heat. Everything the sea had taken from him—his breath, his warmth, his very life—she had given back. The heat radiated from his sex up through the core of his body, through his limbs, to his skin. Through his heart.

Tuesday, January 24, 2017

I Solemnly Swear to Continue to be Up To No Good

I've got another book reformatted and ready to go--this one's a previous Ellora's Cave title and one of my favorites, Lady of the Seals.

Please note this is an Elizabeth Jewell title, so it's an erotic romance, so if that's not your cuppa, be warned. And it's a Scottish selkie story, so if that IS your cuppa, go grab it!

Special offer for blog readers--if you go to Smashwords, you can get the story at half-price with the code TW63G.

It's also available at Amazon

Monday, January 16, 2017

What I've Been Up To

December and January have been a bit weird for me. There’s been a lot of work, but also a lot of down time. I’ve spent tons of time with family, from gatherings with my now-local parents, sister, niece and nephew and respective significant others, to a visit from my son, who’s still headquartered in Colorado while he finishes up college. December saw the release of Call Me Zhenya, a book I still really like. Based on the reviews, some other people like it, too.

There’s also been a big drop-off in client work, which is typical for the holiday season. It always worries me, though. I’ve been filling the time planning for 2017, promoting Zhenya, and working on some new projects. I’m writing a sequel to Zhenya with the working title Code Name Anya. You can follow a rather cryptic chronicle of my progress on Pinterest. This is where I dump research material, inspirational photos, and other bits and pieces while I’m working on a book. Zhenya has a board, too. Just think of it as a glimpse inside my brain.

I’m also tackling a big project I’ve been picking at for ages, and that’s reformatting all the books I’ve published through Notes on Vellum. I’m making the interiors way prettier using Vellum (no relation), and I’m redoing some covers. The first book to get the treatment is Sweetest Songs. (For some reason the new cover isn’t showing for me on Amazon, although it’s showing on my KDP dashboard. This is what it should look like—)

Sweetest Songs is a little darker and sadder than most of my books, with a bittersweet ending. The hero goes through a process of change that’s painful for him, but at the other side of loss he finds his way to a new and better version of himself. I hope you’ll give it a look.

Wednesday, January 4, 2017

Humpday Humpishness--Call Me Zhenya

My new book is out now on Amazon, and since Marteeka Karland has reinstated the Humpday Hump, I thought I'd offer a contribution. Enjoy!

She woke abruptly to the sound of a growl. Evgeni’s head was still heavy in her lap. The growl came from him; he was dreaming. Anna fought back the surge of adrenaline that had struck her as she jerked awake, but her heart continued to pound hard at the back of her throat. Evgeni twitched against her, the growl morphing to a sort of whine. The sounds, and even the movement of his body as he jerked in the dream’s throes, seemed more dog than man.

The whine disturbed her, especially when it came again, sounding even more mournful and pained than before. She’d had a dog growing up; she’d always woken him up when he made noises like that. She’d always worried, though, that he wouldn’t totally shake off the dream and would awaken with the same fear that caused those sounds, think she was a threat and bite her. She had the same concern about Evgeni now. Instead of waking him right away, she stroked his hair. It had often worked with the dog; she’d stroke it, scratch at its ears, rub its head, and it would settle into a more peaceful sleep.

He quieted as she pushed her fingers through his thick, dark hair, rubbed the back of his skull. “Zhenya,” she murmured. “Shhh.”

He made an odd, breathy sound, and one hand closed on her thigh. She was starting to think he was getting a little personal when he turned his head and buried his face between her legs.

She jumped. That was . . . unexpected. He took a long, deep breath through his nose.

Anna shivered. Instinctively, her hand went to his head, prepared to push him back, but concerned about how he might react. Her hand, though, seem to want to push him closer. That was an interesting conundrum. She tugged gently at his hair, drawing his head to a more neutral position.

He kept sniffing, moving up the side of her body across her ribs, her belly, over her breasts. His nose went into the fold of her armpits. His big hand closed over her breast, the touch almost neutral, as if he were just holding her still and it had provided a convenient handle. He lingered with his nose under her arm for a few long seconds, long enough for it to start to tickle, which was almost a good thing because it distracted her from the uneasy embarrassment settling over her.

Oddly, though, she wasn’t afraid. It was strange, uncomfortable, and she didn’t understand all the ramifications of what he was doing to her, but he wasn’t hurting her. And he wouldn’t. Of that she was certain, but she wasn’t sure why.

His head shifted, but he didn’t stop sniffing. His nose made a line up the side of her neck, to behind her ear, where he drew another deep, long breath. He sniffed at her face—her eyes, her lips. And then traced his tongue across her mouth, soft and hot.

She let him. She held perfectly still and let him. It was strange but not threatening or even uncomfortable. He was taking liberties, yes, but it was the wolf, not the man. And she had a feeling this was a ritual of some kind, something important to the wolf that would help him accept her, see her as a friend.

His tongue slipped past the seam of her lips, tracing the line between them but not asking for entrance. He drew back after a quick taste, and his teeth pressed against her jawbone, a gentle bite between the point of her jaw and the point of her chin. Then he curled up next to her and closed his eyes.