Archive for the 'Guest Blogger' Category

Guest Blog: Tempting and Teasing The Pages

A touch. A lick. A tickle. A slap… or maybe forget the foreplay and get right down to penetration.

It is all a matter of preference. Depends on what some find makes for a good love scene?

Tastes vary and so do characters. Sometimes you have to listen to what the characters want.

What? Who cares about the characters! What about the reader? What about what they want?

Well, I try to take into account that some readers like it hot, and some like it slow and simmering, but I can’t read the readers’ minds.((Sigh)) Alas, all I can read are my characters’ minds and figure what he or she is thinking at this particular moment in this particular scene.

To me the characters are very much like a lover in my own bed. I have this desire to fulfill their needs, understand their cravings and do my best to satisfy their wants.

Not every lover is the same and it is a fine line to dance when you have two lovers and making sure they are pleased. Sometimes it is not always possible to give them the release they so rightfully deserve and it hurts me but I have to admit I like making them pant and writhe in agony, pent up with frustration and screaming for more.

Naughty author! Yes, I am. And no, I’m not.

I tend to write on the sensual side. So my characters tend to love the slow build up, the errant touch, the side glances, the smell and touch of hair brushing over a shoulder. My heroine’s find the way a man’s legs look encased in jeans sexy as hell and if she catches a peek at some flesh and tight abs, she is salivating. My males let their hands and lips explore in the dark and the whispering sound of clothes being shed turn him on and get him hard.

Bringing them to new heights, getting them to that pinnacle where their senses turn to mush and their bodies so hot they can ignite the sheets is my mission but not my ultimate goal. Passion is not just two bodies wrapped around each other and interlocked, it is more of sense of being wanted, desired, craved and elevated. I try to listen to each a character and infuse their thoughts and feelings into each stroke of their fingers and thrust of their tongues.

Still the seduction and the salty taste of flesh in the throws of ecstasy are not enough for me or my lovers, they still require more. Such needy and greedy lovers! They want the emotional aspect, that inner-soul-deep-penetration that only a true lover can reach; that inner massage that goes below the surface of the skin and squeezes the heart and tightens the groin muscles simultaneously.

I like to look beneath the beautiful veneer and ask my characters to open themselves up in a way that is more vulnerable than just spread their legs or standing for all to see nude. It is more than the slow tease, it is the sneak peek inside their hearts, the way their eyes reveal secrets long buried, or deciphering the sound of their sighs, or sometimes it the scars, bumps, and lines on their palms that tell tales. Characters are secretive creatures, never wanting to reveal too much, it is up to me to coax and tempt them to show what they truly want and give them love that they crave. The desires long dormant brought to the surface and satisfied with more than just an orgasmic release but coupled with the soul satisfying knowledge that they have bonded with another soul that will love them forever.

About the Author:

Gabriella Hewitt is the pen name of creative writing talents Sasha Tomaszycki and Patrizia M.J. Hayashi. Together they weave tales of romantic suspense and dangerously sensual paranormals. Check out their new paranormal romance series: OUT OF THE SHADOWS, the first book in their Shadow Warrior Series from Samhain Publishing. Visit the Gabriella Hewitt website www.gabriellahewitt.com for their blog tour schedule.

Guest Author – Cassandra Carr

I’m very pleased to have Cassandra Carr visiting my blog today. :D

Strange Things Writers Do

Writers have some awfully odd methods and rituals. Some use big white boards to plot their stories. Some put on special “writing gear” – a favorite sweatshirt, a specific pair of socks; and still others have to listen to a certain band or drink a certain beverage out of a specific mug.

Me? I have nothing like this. I’m not really the type to begin with, but at this point in my writing career, I can’t really afford to anyway. I write when I can. If I can listen to music, that’s fine. If I can’t, that’s okay too. I wear whatever I happen to have on that day, I write in whatever location I can find at the moment.

But I do know writers who absolutely cannot write without their little quirks and rituals. Hey – we’re all as different as our books, and that’s what makes the world go ‘round, so I’m all for it. If it works for you, by all means, do it!

Do you have any little things you like to do to get yourself through a day?

Talk To Me Excerpt

The elevator doors opened, and Drew hurried to unlock his apartment and punch his code into the security pad before continuing straight to his bedroom. He spun and picked Jamie up as she neared the door, and she let out a squeak of protest.

“Drew!”

“What? I’m trying to be romantic. Efficient too.” He grinned at her when she struggled to get out of his grip. The way she fought against him both amused and aroused him. “Not so fast,” he warned her. “I’m not planning to let you get away until I’m good and finished with you.”

Jamie cocked an eyebrow. “Good and finished? Be still my heart! Such dreamy talk from a man like you! I had no idea.”

Drew laughed and dropped Jamie on the king-size bed with enough force to make her bounce, then climbed on top of her. Before she could protest again, he’d pressed his erection into her belly and taken her lips in another deep kiss. Jamie melted beneath him, snaking her hands around his neck while his found her hips, pulling her closer. “You need to get naked,” he declared, rolling off her.

“Just me? That’s hardly fair. If I’m getting naked, then this time, so are you.” Her beautiful, full lips pouted at him.

He stood up, and in seconds, his pants and boxer briefs landed in a heap on the floor. He pulled his shirt over his head and added it to the pile. “Your turn.”

Jamie rose up on her elbows and stared at him in disbelief. “How did you do that so fast? And may I add, very nice.” She smiled and waggled her eyebrows, giving him a quick once-over.

“When I want something, I don’t waste time. And I want you naked. Now.”

He reached over and started yanking her top over her head, but she batted his hands away.

“Hey — stop that. You’re going to dislocate my shoulder with your beastlike strength.”

Drew laughed but allowed Jamie to gently pull her blouse over her head. He took it and tossed it on the chair near the window. Next she tugged her jeans off, leaving her in only her bra and panties, which Drew made short work of.

He groaned when she was fully nude. “God, you’re fucking gorgeous, you know that? And I’m gonna put my hands and my tongue and my mouth and my cock everywhere on and in your beautiful body, so you better be ready.”

Jamie shivered, and he covered her body with his, kissing her briefly before moving down her jawline, sucking and licking. This is gonna be good.

Buy link: http://www.loose-id.com/Talk-to-Me.aspx

Bio: Cassandra Carr lives in Western New York with her husband, Inspiration, and her daughter, Too Cute for Words. When not gleefully torturing characters Cassandra enjoys watching hockey and eating.

For more information about Cassandra, check out her website , follow her on Twitter , or “like” her fan page.

Guest Blog – JK Coi and The Morning After

Hello!! JK Coi is in the house! (www.jkcoi.com)

Since Christine has gotten herself laid up in bed (and had better stay there until she’s better if she knows what’s good for her), I’ve hijacked her blog today to chat with you all and pimp my new release!! J

Do you want to know what I’ve done since the new year rolled around? Hah!! NOTHING! J

Although, that’s not entirely true. I haven’t started writing a new book. But I have returned to my exercise routine (YAY!) and I have finished writing the synopsis for the recently-finished novel. I have also done some critiquing for fellow writers and gotten a handle on my backlog of work at the day job. So I guess I’m not completely useless.

But the itch to start writing something new is there and it’s strong. I’m trying to ignore it for a little while longer, because I desperately need a bit of a break (even though the mind is willing, the body is weak—or something like that). The last five months have been CRAZY at the computer. Still, I don’t think I will be able to hold out much longer. For me, writing isn’t something I like to do in my spare time, it’s a gift that lives inside of me and if I don’t use it, I feel incomplete. (I know, check out the melodramatic writer.)

But to hold me over, I do have a new release to celebrate!!

The Morning After is out this month from Ellora’s Cave!

This story was a little different for me. It has no vampires, demons or immortals, and the hero and heroine aren’t caught in a life-or-death situation. Boring, you might ask? Absolutely not! The depth of emotion and level of electrifying heat between these characters was amazing and I LOVED writing it. I hope that you will all enjoy it too, and to whet your appetites I leave you with an excerpt:

Blurb:

Waking up naked in bed with a man’s arms holding you close wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing…except when that man is your husband.

Leslie has tried so hard to put Leo’s betrayal behind her—the ink was almost dry on the divorce papers. But when circumstances throw her in bed with her estranged husband one last explosive time, Leslie learns how quickly anger can turn to passion and hurt can turn to need, even while she knows there’s no way she can ever trust him again.

What Leslie considers goodbye, Leo insists is only the beginning. But the damage between them runs too deep, and sometimes, the only thing more devastating than the night before, is the morning after…

Excerpt:

Consciousness came slowly.

It started with a groan, a deep breath, and a fuzzy sense that all was not as it should be this bright new morning. Indeed, the fact that warm light penetrated her still-closed eyelids at all was worrisome, since her large bedroom windows should have been covered by the heavy, thick drapes she’d spent a small fortune to have custom made.

The sunshine wasn’t her only reason for coming to the conclusion that this morning would offer a few extra challenges. The relentless pounding in her temples, and her pasty, dry throat was also a pretty big clue.

Being buck naked beneath the soft cotton sheet was another.

However, the biggest and most compelling sign that Leslie Stevenson was in serious trouble on this particular morning came courtesy of the heavy, even breaths raising gooseflesh on the skin of her nape. The warm, wide chest pressed up against her back. The thickly muscled arm draped over her waist. The hand cupping the weight of her breast. Especially when her memory of just how the as-yet-unnamed—and very naked—man might have ended up in this bed with her was proving to be an elusive one.

Daring to open her eyes, Leslie bit back an oath as a fresh spike of pain knifed through her forehead to the back of her skull. She didn’t think she’d had that much to drink last night.

How did I get here? Why can’t I remember?

Lifting her arm, she moved to push her hair out of her face, but stilled suddenly as the hand around her breast…squeezed.

She held a harshly drawn breath, waiting nervously. Was her mystery bedmate awake then, or just a grabby sleeper? Could she somehow slip out of here without having to endure the awkward morning after, since it seemed she didn’t even have the benefit of memories from the night before to make said awkwardness worthwhile?

She shifted her hips and started a slow shuffle out from under him, but didn’t get very far. The arm tightened around her waist, pulling her back into the cradle of his solid, warm flesh. She gasped as bold evidence of a raging morning hard-on pressed intimately against her buttocks. The hand clutching her breast repositioned itself, a calloused thumb flicking across her nipple—which tightened beneath this stranger’s bold touch. Her body betrayed her, sending a sharp thrum of intensity to her belly until she wanted to thrust her hips back harder against his erection.

She groaned and shut her eyes tightly as his hips pushed forward, as his cock slid deeper into the crack of her ass. Damn. There should be at least some small nugget of memory to tell her how she’d gotten herself into this particular tight spot, but the details of last night weren’t becoming any clearer, even as soft lips dropped to the curve of her shoulder.

It shouldn’t feel this good. To be held. To be touched.

She remembered her determination to go to the ritzy nightclub last night. Kind of a test. She also remembered forcing her feet to cross the threshold, and then making her way to the bar on the other side of the dark room. She’d ordered a drink in an attempt to numb her scrambled nerves. Leslie and crowds certainly didn’t mix, but she’d been working so hard to overcome the irrational phobia that had made her feel like such a freak for so many years.

But last night she’d felt strong, even though her temples had ached and her fingers shook while she waited patiently for David. Then came the call on her cell phone to say that he was working late and couldn’t make it. And she remembered all her hard-won strength falling away, proving that it had been nothing but a flimsy mask. She had lurched up from the barstool, desperate to be gone from that place.

Until…

He appeared across the dance floor.

With a gasp, Leslie clutched the bed sheet to her chest in a tight fist. She twisted around and glared into the face of the last person she should find herself naked in bed with…

Her husband.

the morning after