Want a chance to win a copy of Talk Dirty to Me? Head over to Ramblings from this Chick and enter!

WOULD YOU DATE A MAN WHO'S WEARING MAKEUP?


Excluding actors. 


On one of the morning shows this week they were discussing that more and more men are beginning to wear makeup, and that it's becoming increasingly popular. I didn't even know there's makeup on the market for men, such as concealer and base. The discussion about whether women would date men wearing makeup came up and my first thought was, not me. I would find it a huge turn off. To each his own, though. 

How the world works lately... If a man cuts his finger off while Slicing salami at work, He blames the restaurant. If you smoke three packs a day For 40 years and die of lung cancer, Your family blames the Tobacco company. If your neighbor crashes Into a tree while driving home drunk, He blames the bartender. If your grandchildren are Brats without manners, You blame television. If your friend is shot by a Deranged madman, You blame the gun manufacturer.. And if a crazed person breaks Into the cockpit and Tries to kill the pilot at 35,000 feet, And the passengers Kill him instead, The mother of the crazed deceased Blames the airline. I must have lived too long to Understand the world As it is anymore. So, if I die while my OLD WRINKLED ASS is parked in front of this computer, I want all of you to Blame Bill Gates.

Hot cover for Hot Spot just in! What do you think?

Instant Attraction won hands down in the poll to name my next erotic release. Thanks to all of you who took the time to vote. But guess what. Up in Flames will also be used as the title for a different story I hope to finish this weekend! 


I've been in a writing frenzy this weekend and just two thousand more words will finish up a new manuscript. You can find out more about these two hot stories on the coming soon page.

Why Republish Books?

I don't know why some authors do it, but I can tell you why I've done it. Three of my earlier releases were contracted by a well known epublisher who had a stellar reputation and longevity. I was excited beyond belief when they offered me contracts. Even more so when my books were put on the market in like, four months. Little did I know at the time that the editing of those books was half-ass done. They were more worried with making money, than putting out a good product. 


Later, after other issues and disappointments with the epublisher, I requested the book rights back. I was embarrassed to even be associated with them. Their reputation was in the toilet. What once had been a cream of the crop epublisher, that everyone wanted to get with, was now to be avoided like the plague. They were even losing some of their long time authors. 


Feeling that those books deserved another chance, and hearing that there were publishers out there that would accept pre-published work, I decided to submit them again. It didn't take long when I had new contracts for them. I was surprised when editors were assigned to me, though. I mean, they'd been edited and published once. 


I can't tell you how embarrassed I was when my new editors and I began to work on them. Even more so when I realized people had paid money to read them. They were a mess! I found myself apologising all the time. Mainly because I blamed my ignorance as part of the problem. Early on I didn't know what to look for, putting all my trust on my editor. I've sure learned a lot since.


To get these books ready for republishing I added a lot more content, and sexed them up for the erotic lines of the epublishers who contracted them. One was given a new name, and they all received new book covers. And when they hit the market a second time around they were stories I could feel proud of. 


Now I'm in the process of adding content and sexing up two other earlier releases. This time the publisher asked me if I would do it in order to release them in their erotic line, under Tory Richards. Both are mainstream romances published under my real name. So far I've completed one. The new and improved, highly sexed up version of Cupid's Arrow is Passionate Encounters. And I promise you it's hot!


For those who prefer the tamer version you will still be able to purchase Cupid's Arrow. And for those of you who might not know, that book was on the publisher's best seller's list for two consecutive months!

2006

2012

     
                    WINNERS 

The winner of the $100 Gift Card to EdenFantasys is andieleah from Donya Lynne's blog, who said: I would want to be taken anywhere we would have a chance to be caught!

The winner of the Digital Gift Basket is Rae from Lyric James' blog, who said:  I would love to read Something Wet! Thanks for the chance to win it!


           CONGRATULATIONS!






PLAY TO WIN FOLKS!

Lots of authors have signed up for this and they're all giving away something. Link list can be found here.

Grand prizes include, the "Digital Erotica Gift Basket with over 40 books" or the "$100 Gift Card to EdenFantasys, fun sex toy shop".   I contributed a download of Wicked Desire to the book gift basket.


Here's a excerpt of that erotic romance.


The second Matt was certain Maggie’s feet were firmly planted on the ground he took hold of her shoulders and forced her backwards until she was against the stone wall. He ignored her startled gasp. He ignored the way her soft flesh felt beneath his hands, and the teasing allure of her perfume. He ignored his body’s rapid response to her closeness. He easily overpowered her initial struggles,
madder than a hornet that she’d tried to escape. 

The alley was dark except for one dim light at the end, close to the street, yet he was able to focus on a pair of frightened, glittering eyes.

“Oh! You scared me half to death!” she cried, her hand flying up to cover her pounding heart.

Matt wished she hadn’t done that. The action drew his attention to her creamy breasts, which were all but spilling out of her top. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t let Bob run you in,” he growled in a furious undertone. He’d long ago learned how the criminal mind worked. He was glad he decided to follow up on his hunch.

“I’m not a prostitute,” she said simply.

“I don’t believe you.” But he wanted to. 

Matt didn’t like thinking he was attracted to a woman who made a living by selling her body. Of course, the woman he’d wanted that morning didn’t look anything like the little tramp in front of him now. The only thing that hadn’t changed was her soft, full mouth and those unforgettable eyes. If he wasn’t careful he could easily drown in those beguiling green depths; cat eyes that mesmerized its prey before pouncing in for the kill.

“But…I can explain everything.”

Her soft laugh steeled Matt’s heart and made up his mind for him. He wasn’t in the mood to hear her lies, or put up with her misplaced humor. “Save it. You’re going to jail, honey.” He took her by the arm and began dragging her behind him. He should let Bob handle it and still might. On his way out of the bar he’d told his ex-partner to wait for him in the front.

“But I thought you weren’t a cop.”

“Not here.” In a few days he would be starting a new job back
home as the local small-town sheriff. He was looking forward to
the change to both his professional and personal life.

“Than you can’t arrest me,” she said in a satisfied tone. She tried to pull away from him. “Maybe I’ll have you arrested for assault, or something.”

Matt didn’t bother to correct her assumption. Mainly because it meant he could get rid of her sooner. And the itch in his loins that had never really diminished since that morning. He tried like hell not to remember how quick his body had reacted to her. “I’ll turn you over to my ex-partner.” He continued pulling her easily along, heading for the end of the alley that opened up onto the street.

“But I can explain the whole thing. It’s really kind of funny. You see…ouch!”

Matt swiveled on his feet in time to catch Maggie from falling to the ground. He dragged her up against him. “Another trick, sweetheart?” They were suddenly standing nose to nose.

“No, I swear! I stepped on something.” They were more than nose-to-nose; they were also mouth-to-mouth.

Matt’s eyes glared into hers, every breath he sucked in filled his lungs with her sweet fragrance. In spite of his instincts for self preservation he continued to hold her against him. His hands were
wrapped around the fleshy part of her upper arms and his fingers
rested against the exposed sides of her warm, lush breasts. He could feel them crushed against him, feel her nipples harden and poke into him with every breath she took.

Damn! He felt his cock swelling. This wasn’t good. Mistake number one was getting involved with her at all. Mistake number two had been in touching her, for any reason. It was ironic that he’d wanted her that morning but couldn’t afford to get involved. Now for a price, he could get involved for a couple of hours and not even look back. He couldn’t accept the fact he wanted her no matter what she was. It had been a damn long time since he’d felt any life below the belt, and now twice in one day he’d had the urge to get laid.

They were too damn close and it was hot in the alley.

He was hot.

Pressing his lips together with grim determination he lowered Maggie to her feet and started to pull her after him once more. The
second her feet hit the pavement she let out a holler and pulled
back. Matt released a reconciled sigh, coming to the conclusion that she wasn’t faking it.

“I’m barefoot,” she explained. Matt glanced down and swore. “My shoes are back there.”

There being back in the alley beneath the window where she’d
made her escape. 

“Which foot?”

“My right one.”

“Let me see it.”

She didn’t move.

“Well?”

With a slight shrug she stepped back and slowly lifted a long, graceful leg toward him. Matt felt the blood race up his neck but couldn’t force himself to look away. He’d always been a sucker for long, beautiful legs, and Maggie’s were certainly all that. He steeled himself from responding, reminding himself what she was. He reached for her injured foot and examined it blindly in the darkness. 

“I don’t feel any blood or protruding objects. Maybe you just stepped on a stone and bruised it.” He intended to drop her foot but his hand encircled her ankle instead. He could feel the ankle bracelet she was wearing beneath her black silk stockings. Hooker stockings. He clenched his teeth in irritation.

“You’re probably right,” she agreed.

Matt noticed the slight tremor in her voice. As she slowly lowered
her leg his hand followed along the curve of her smooth calf, behind her knee until it disappeared beneath her short skirt. He heard Maggie’s soft gasp when his fingers caressed her silken thigh above the garter holding her stocking on. He felt her quiver, the action triggering a sharp need of desire in Matt’s blood. Then realizing
what he was doing, he jerked his hand away.

About that time the door to the bar opened and Bob walked out, pausing long enough to light a cigar. Their eyes fell on him at the same time and suddenly Maggie’s hand was on his arm. He glanced down into her pleading eyes, drowning in their seductive, deceiving depths.

“Matt, I swear what I said is the truth. I’m not a prostitute. I’m only dressed like this because my mother…”

He raised a brow. “Your mother? This is getting better by the minute, honey.”

“I’m doing research for her,” she said hurriedly. “You see, she’s a writer and…”

“You expect me to believe your own mother asked you to dress up as a hooker for research?” His brows drew together in a frown of total disbelief. Matt couldn’t fathom any mother putting her daughter into such a dangerous situation.

“Exactly! Who would make up such a story anyway?”

“What do you think, I was born yesterday?” He scowled. Bob was moving closer.

“I swear it’s true. Why can’t you believe me?” She bit at her bottom lip.

There was something in her eyes Matt couldn’t ignore, something
honest. 

Whoohoo! Look at my smokin hot book cover for Passionate Encounters! What do ya'll think?

If some of you are wondering why I haven't posted Book in the Making...unedited lately, there are several reasons why. First, I've been extremely busy editing two erotic romances that will both come out in August. Second, I've been working on sexing up one existing book for re-release in the publisher's erotic line. Third, I've been working on another erotic romance. Fourth, I haven't had time to do any more pages on the book I was posting, because of 1-3 above:) 


And that's only with my writing life. There's a whole lot of other issues taking up my time in my personal life. 


When it rains it pours!

THE MERCENARY WAY just received a 5 STAR review from Cozy Reader! Link to the review is below. AND...it's also a TOP PICK at The Romance Reviews!
http://www.theromancereviews.com/viewbooksreview.php?bookid=4992

LINKhttp://www.sixsunday.com/ to other participating authors.

1 - One Sunday morning, the pastor noticed little Alex standing in the foyer of the church staring up at a large plaque. It was covered with names and small American flags mounted on either side of it.


2 - The six-year old had been staring at the plaque for some time, so the pastor walked up, stood beside the little boy, and said quietly, 'Good morning Alex.'


3 - 'Good morning Pastor,' he replied, still focused on the plaque.


4 - 'Pastor, what is this? '


5 - The pastor said, 'Well son, it's a memorial to all the young men and women who died in the service.' Soberly, they just stood together, staring at the large plaque. 


6 - Finally, little Alex's voice, barely audible and trembling with fear asked, 'Which service, the 8:30 or the 10:30?'

Hey, I'm blogging over at Reader's Edyn today! Three books are being offered to three readers who leave comments. 

Rebecca Lee Smith

Good morning my friends! I'm hosting a Goddess Fish tour today. Rebecca is a new author to me but from what I've read with regard to her blurb and excerpts her book sounds very interesting! And look at that gorgeous book cover! Please take a moment to say hi. 

Rebecca will be giving away a $20 Amazon GC to one randomly drawn commenter during the tour as well as to the host with the most comments (excluding the host's and the author's).

                                 

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Rebecca lives with her husband in the beautiful, misty mountains of East Tennessee, where the people are charming, soulful, and just a little bit crazy. She’s been everything from a tax collector to a stay-at-home-mom to a house painter to a professional actress and director. Her two grown sons live nearby, still have the power to make her laugh until she cries, and will always be the best things she’s given back to the world. It took her a lot of years to realize that writing was her true passion. When she’s not churning out sensual romantic mysteries with snappy dialogue and happy endings, she loves to travel the world, go to the Outer Banks for her ocean fix, watch old movies, hang out at the local pub, and make her day complete by correctly answering the Final Jeopardy! Question. 

Rebecca Lee Smith Website Link

The main obstacle I’ve had to overcome in regard to writing is...ME.

My writing life has been full of stops and starts. In the span of twenty-five years, I’ve dealt with kids, dogs, health problems, work, an elderly parent in need of care, moving, moving again. You know...life. And if that sounds like an excuse, it is. Just not a very good one.

My kids are grown now, the dogs have all crossed the rainbow bridge, my husband is close to retirement, and I’m lucky enough to have the luxury of writing whenever I want. I have the utmost admiration for writers who are in the trenches raising kids and working full time, and still have the dedication and energy to get those pages done each day. As much as I wanted to, I could never pull that off with any regularity.  

Time management has never been one of my strong suits, and wasting it has always been one of my biggest regrets. Now that my romantic mystery/suspense novel, A Dance to Die For, has been published, I wish I’d tried harder and worked longer to make it happen sooner. I should have spent more time writing and learning the craft instead of watching TV. Spent less time shrugging off the last brutal round of rejections and throw myself back into the game without waiting three months for the sting to wear off. I wish I had made writing more of a priority, as I do now. I should have done less laundry, cooked less dinners, and pushed myself to finish more books. Because unless you’re Nicholas Sparks (The Notebook) or Kathryn Stockett (The Help) or all the other lucky, gifted writers who hit it big their first time out of the gate, cranking out manuscripts is how you learn to write. And that takes time.

 I’m always looking for a magic formula, some special nugget of information or inspiration that will cement my butt to the chair and keep my hands on the keys. I love reading self-help articles that tell you step by step how to actively incorporate the discipline of writing into your life—set daily page goals, chart your time, write every day, stop checking your email and Facebook page every five minutes. Not all of these suggestions work for everyone—except maybe stepping away from the Internet—but they make me feel that if I only had the right motivation, I could really be productive. After you sign your first publishing contract, you’ll experience the ultimate in writing incentives firsthand. But until you do, you’re on your own.

I spent years working in theater—acting, directing, building sets, running tech—and I never had a problem getting things done on time. I woke up in the morning, got the kids off to school, and knew exactly what my priorities were for the rest of the day. Why couldn’t I do that with writing? Writing was my secret passion, something that stirred my heart and fed my soul. If I was serious about wanting to get published, why didn’t I put in the time to making it happen?

Maybe it’s because I’m bit older now, or maybe it’s because I finally know the sweet, triumphant feeling of holding a book I wrote in my hands. But I’ve discovered that the things that are most important to me are the things I’ve worked hardest to achieve. I just wish it hadn’t taken me so long to figure out how to get busy, stay busy, and hit my stride.

This all looks great on paper, doesn’t it? Putting it into practice is another set of wheels. But that’s okay. I’m not going to waste anymore precious time yakking about it; I’m going downstairs to my office and get back to work revising my current manuscript. Right now. I promise. Just as soon as Grey’s Anatomy is over.

BLURB:

Annabel Maitland believes in destiny and following her heart—Trent Sheffield realizes his destiny is to believe in her.

Annabel destroyed her Broadway dancing career trying to save her friend Quinn's life. Convinced Quinn’s death was no accident, Annabel follows a clue to a North Carolina mountain inn and discovers that everyone who knew Quinn—the real Quinn—wanted her out of their lives, including the sexy innkeeper whose laid-back charm and megawatt grin take Annabel's breath away. The physical attraction between them is undeniable, the cerebral attraction irresistible. But trusting her heart means ignoring evidence that plants him firmly on the list of suspects.

Determined to keep his family’s financially strapped inn afloat, the last person Trent needs working for him is a stubborn, impossibly long-legged dancer whose sharp wit and silver eyes keep him scrambling to stay on his toes. He's falling hard, and he wants to trust her, but Annabel's connection to his ex-fiancée makes him question her motives at every turn. When a string of mysterious accidents threaten Annabel’s life, they must unearth Quinn's killer before it's too late. But what if Annabel was the target all along?

EXCERPT

Something zinged past Annabel.

It cut and ruffled the new growth of hickory leaves beside her shoulder, like a bird soaring through the trees at warp speed. Her head jerked around. Trent was running toward her with his arms airborne, his beige raincoat ballooned behind him like a cape. 

He pushed her off the path, then hit the ground sideways. He slid into the underbrush, shoulder first, and roughly pulled her down on top of him.

Another high-pitched crack echoed across the meadow.

Trent's hard body jolted beneath her.

He enveloped her in his arms and rolled her to the side, pressing her head into his broad chest. The musky scent of his aftershave mingled with the pungent tang of dried weeds and earth sent her senses into overload. The weight of his muscular thighs pushing against her equally muscular thighs sent a shudder pulsing through her. “It's okay,” he whispered. “I've got you.” 

They lay motionless in the tall warm grass, side by side, for what seemed an eternity. Until the only sounds she could hear were the soft, protesting whir of insects and the rapid, steady thumping of his heart.

Annabel lifted her head and stared at the line of dark stubble along his chin. “What the hell was that?”

“Probably a poacher.”

“A poacher? Are you serious? Here?”

He loosened his grip on her shoulders. “The forest across the road belongs to the inn. There's no fence. All we can do is post No Hunting signs and hope for the best.”

“So, how do your guests feel about dodging bullets? I bet this place stays packed.”

Win a Big Box of Books!

HOSTED BY SENSUAL READS, SINGLE TITLES.COM AND CATAROMANCE.COM!

Here’s your chance to win a big box o’ books from the CataNetwork. This prize is a delightful grab bag of books from our vault along with some other delish promo goodies. Stay tuned for a pic. And be sure to hop on over to the other participating bloggers! More great prizes to be won.

6 sentence sunday

LINK to other participating authors

Wicked Desire Teaser...

Do you know what you’re inviting?
His voice was hoarse with obvious need, almost angry. 
His nostrils flared with every breath he took. 
His gaze dropped to her lips, and Maggie parted them, running her tongue over them in anticipation of his kiss. I won't be gentle, Maggie. 
I haven’t been with a woman in a long time

NIGHT OWL REVIEWS!


GRAND PRIZE
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1 eBook of Bleeding Hearts (Demimonde #1) by Ash Krafton

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