Erzabet's read book montage

The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty
Awakening the Virgin: True Tales of Seduction
Mona Lisa Awakening
Mona Lisa Blossoming
Mona Lisa Craving
Mona Lisa Darkening
Lucinda, Darkly
Beg for It
Beg For It
Master of Mine
Howling Sacrifices
Interview With the Vampire
Midnight Blue: The Sonja Blue Collection
Full Moon Rising
Kissing Sin
Dangerous Games
Tempting Evil
The Darkest Kiss
Embraced By Darkness
Deadly Desire

Erzabet Bishop's favorite books »

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Kinky Christmas Blog Hop

Hello kinksters! It's time for the Kinky Christmas Blog Hop! I have lots of chances to win some holiday naughtiness. Here are some of my new releases just out over the last month, just waiting for a spot on your e-reader. All you have to do is head on over to my website and sign up for my newsletter. Leave me a message in the comments and tell me which book you would love to win and why.

Here are the rules:

You must be 18.
The prizes are e-books and will be sent to you via the publisher or myself. Viable prizes are the books you see on this post.
You must sign up for the newsletter  and tell me what email you do so with in the comments. If you have reviewed one of my books in this lineup you get extra special goodies and I will email you if you leave me the link to the review.

Enter my contest here to also win some other hotness on my Gingerbread Dreams tour.

Don't forget to stop at all the blogs for a chance to win some pretty awesome prizes and enter the rafflecopter for a chance at a gift card....

Blog name Blog URL
We Love Kink
Romance Schmomance
The Phantom Paragrapher
Fiction Fangirls
Naughty Books and Bits
Read More Romance
Sensuous Promos Readers Blog Http://
Harlie Williams, Writer
Jill Prand
Secret Hungers
Renea Mason
In the Pages of a Good Book
Summer's Book Blog
Lily Harlem
Kay Jaybee: Eveyone Needs a Bedtime Story
This Redhead LOVES Books
Lucy Felthouse
Ms. Me28
Kats Book Promotions/ Katsindiebookblog
Craves the Angst Book Reviews
Raw Books
Anna Ellis Author
i love lady porn
Perusing Princesses
Book Bangers Blog
Reading Drinking and Relaxing
HEA Romances With A Little Kick
deal sharing aunt
Anne Lange - Author Blog
A Dirty Book Affair
Author Groupies
Love Bites and Silk Ties
Inner Goddess
mommas secret book obsession
sofia loves books
All my Book finds
Essence Write
All Romance Reviews
Reading Between the Wines Book Club
Den of Sin
Holley Trent
L.V. Lewis
London's Scribbles
Erzabet's Enchantements
Ariel's World
Passion Shields Series
Reading vs Sleeping
Jolynn Raymond's Dark Obsessions 
The Book Bellas
Mythical Books
Regina's Book Reviews
Renee Luke

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Fireworks at Midnight and Giveaway

New Year’s Eve is a night filled with bright colorful lights, rambunctious outings, and a good amount of mischief. It also marks the passage of time, bringing to mind our hopes for the future, the exhilaration that comes with change, and fond memories of days past. Part of Decadent Publishing’s 1Night Stand line, my paranormal romantic comedy Fireworks at Midnight features a struggling college graduate who is just coming to terms with the thrills and perils of newfound independence. When her best friend’s older brother rolls back into town, this intrepid young witch is faced with help she doesn’t want, protection she doesn’t need, and the reality that this warlock cop no longer thinks of her as a “troublesome little sister.”
Add a pinch of magic, supernatural mayhem, and Madame Eve’s renowned matchmaking service, and we’ve got the beginnings of a stormy love story. Those who’ve read my Christmas release Frosty Relations will already know Dulcina “Sweets” Gato, this tale’s smartass heroine. In keeping with the holiday spirit I’m giving away a $15 gift card. To enter, leave a comment here and drop your details in the Rafflecopter widget at the bottom of this post. [or at my website:]
Fireworks at Midnight (A Witch’s Night Out, 3)
Recent college graduate and part-time cat familiar Dulcina “Sweets” Gato is having the worst New Year’s Eve in living memory. End of year expenses trigger serious cash flow problems, and her microwave just went up in smoke. To make matters worse, her best friend’s overprotective big brother is back in town, and his return threatens to put a huge crimper on her nocturnal activities. The only thing she can look forward to is Madame Eve’s 1-Night Stand service. After all, she’s sick and tired of being a 21-year-old virgin.
Enforcement Agent Mikal Knight is a warlock on a mission. Having finally scored a transfer to Washington, D.C., he’s now at liberty to pursue the object of his desires—his baby sister’s best friend. But first, he has a vigilante to track down and a mysterious matchmaking service to investigate. Sent on an undercover operation, he resigns himself to a pointless 1-Night Stand on New Year’s Eve. As luck would have it, his mystery date’s identity might let him kill several birds with one stone.  
Genre: Paranormal Romantic Comedy, Interracial/Multicultural
Buy Links: Amazon | Amazon UK | ARe | B&N | Decadent | Kobo | GoodReads

About Tara Quan
Globetrotter, lover of languages, and romance author, Tara Quan has an addiction for crafting tales with a pinch of spice and a smidgen of kink. Inspired by her travels, Tara enjoys tossing her kick-ass heroines and alpha males into exotic contemporary locales, paranormal worlds, and post-apocalyptic futures. Her characters, armed with magical powers or conventional weapons, are guaranteed a suspenseful and sensual ride, as well as their own happily ever after. Learn more at

When had Mikal become the epitome of boring?
She missed the boy who’d annoyed all their neighbors with his motorcycle, the guy who got her and Shelley their first fake IDs. Ever since he’d morphed into a responsible peon, had a security clearance, and drew a steady paycheck, his mere existence turned her into an unsuccessful loser by comparison.
Playing with the seatbelt’s metal clasp, Sweets looked up through the sunroof. Light glinted into her eyes, and, in a hazy precognitive rush, the glass was gone.
The sky shifted from bright blue to an ebony expanse dotted with white twinkling stars. The car’s confines should have been cold, but a warm circling breeze licked her skin. She sat on the same seat, facing the opposite direction. Bare shoulders occupied her vision; strong hard legs rippled under her ass. Cinnamon, mint, and sweat filled her lungs, all laced with an undertone of pine. She kissed a beard-covered jaw, trailed her lips down a corded neck, and explored a muscled chest the color of chocolate.
Calloused palms slid up her back. Strong sure fingers unhooked her bra and smoothed the straps off her shoulders. Coarse facial hair rasped over her nipple before a hot, wet mouth closed over it and sucked. Her shoulder blades hit the dashboard. His swirling tongue feasted on her breast. His hand shoved her legs apart.
He circled her clit with his thumb, pulsing over it until her head rolled back.
She spotted fireworks through the glass, flashes of red, white, and blue reflecting off rippling water. Her own voice echoed in her ears—pleas she’d never dreamed of voicing.
Two thick fingers filled her, spreading as she spasmed. A scream ripped from her throat. “Mi—”

The door opened with the quiet click characteristic of new cars, shattering her erotic daydream.
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Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Christmas with the Marquis

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. A randomly drawn winner will receive $15 PayPal cash. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

When an arrogant Marquis’s seduction fails, he plans a Xmas celebration at his country estate. Inviting the one girl who not only rejects him but seems to hate him is part of his plan to win her. His scheming soon turns to much more than decorating the house for Xmas. Abigail’s beauty incites a plan for revenge on the Marquis by his most depraved enemy, who is bent on kidnapping and raping Abigail. Can the Marquis save her and make this a merry Christmas after all?

Enjoy an excerpt:

Abigail called after them. “Galoshes are by the back door. Gloves and scarves also. You don’t want to wear your best clothes on an expedition like this, gentlemen”

She leaned back in her chair and watched them go. Startled, but pleased, she hurried to her own rooms to change into riding clothes and tall boots. She adored tramping in the woods and how could she not join in the search for the perfect Yule log? After scarcely a thought she pulled on the breeches she wore when she was riding at home with no one caring what she did. She pulled on her riding boots, although she picked her second-best pair. Who knew what such wonderful snow would do to good boots?

She ran lightly down the steps to the back door. A small screech escaped her when the felt herself hauled against a strong chest, and looked up in astonishment at a livid Jason glaring down at her. Maybe not Jason, right now. No, definitely the Marquis. An irate Marquis, giving her a good swat on her rear and glaring at her.

“Don’t you even think of trying to escape me, you little fool. You’re not at your country home. You’re at mine, with some of the most licentious noblemen in London who’d be delighted to see you so scantily clothed. Do you want them to line up at your door tonight, you vexatious idiot?”

Abigail simply stared at him for a moment, her temper ready to boil over, when he suddenly softened, ran his hands over her hips and around her waist and pulled her against him. His kiss was hot and blazing, lingering at her lips with his tongue pushing into her mouth in a dizzying display of passion that had her clinging to his coat lapels.

“My god, Abigail, how am I going to stay away from you?”

He lay his forehead softly against her hair and softly caressed her well rounded bottom.

Stunned, she couldn’t think of a thing to say. She wrenched herself away and fled back to her room. She’d simply not thought of anything but her own comfort and that wonderful snow. Of course a woman didn’t appear in breeches at a house party for London aristocrats! Not unless there was a hunt scheduled or good riding was available.

She was an idiot.

How could she face Jason, and indeed her grandmother? And she herself was supposed to be chaperoning Bettina?

Burying her face in her hands, she tried to shut out her regretful thoughts. The fact that her every thought centered on Jason and his reactions didn’t even occur to her.

She didn’t see the lascivious face of Lord Wilcombe, earl of Wilmington, watching them from a corner of the hallway.

About the Author:
Jean feels she’s very much a Californian although she was born in Ohio. California has been home for a good many years. Life changed drastically for her when she was six and her father died incredibly from an errant golf ball. A dishonest insurance agent forced her sheltered mother to seek work, and she became a teacher. Her hours required Jean to be alone in the house in the afternoon, and since she was forbidden to leave till her mother got home, she became an avid reader. The local library supplied most of the books and she developed early her two of main interests, Jane Austen and King Arthur.

Reading is still one of her favorite activities, although she sometimes has to push it aside to make room for her enduring love of writing. Her journalism degree was used infrequently until recently. Marriage and raising two children pleasantly got in the way. After twenty years of being a real estate broker and with the kids raised she finally could devote her time to writing, her first love.

Jean's enchantment with the lore and legends of Druids and, therefore, delving into their history led to fascinating research that inspired her popular Garland of Druids Series for Cerridwen Press. She's now enjoying writing stories filled with magic and romance for her Songs of the Mages Series, also for Cerridwen Press.

She has recently left Cerridwen and Ellora's Cafe Press and is now writing exclusively for MuseItUp, the largest Canadian publisher. 

Few things in her life have been so satisfying, especially when all her books have a happy ending. Wonderful to make happen. It only gets more interesting when a secondary character demands his very own book. Who would want to deny him? Not Jean!

Buy the book at Amazon or MuseItUp Publishing.

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Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Capturing You Tour

Capturing You
Maple Grove
Book 1
Katana Collins

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Date of Publication: 12/16/14

Word Count: 72,000

Cover Artist: Fiona Jayde

Book Description:

After discovering she's infertile, Lydia Ryder has all but convinced herself that she doesn't need children or a family to be happy. All she needs is her camera, her passport, and a damn good manicure. And maybe, maybe a sexy male travel companion. But when her job as a magazine photographer lands her in the small town of Maple Grove, NH, a precocious ten year old and her single father barge into Lydia's life, turning what she thinks she wants onto its head. In this town full of happily ever afters, Lydia finds herself wishing for things she had sworn off long ago...

When Cameron Tripp's wife passed away from heart disease, he thought he'd never find love again. He certainly never would have expected a woman like Lydia Ryder to waltz into his life and awaken his dormant heart and libido. But despite his better judgment, Cam finds himself drawn to the vivacious and argumentative outsider. He quickly learns that, like him, she knows all about misplaced trust, heartbreak, and how quickly a family can fall apart if you let it.

As impassioned arguments morph into frenzied kisses, the two wonder if one weekend can ever be enough. Despite lacking a maternal side, can Lydia connect with his ten year old daughter? And when Cameron finally learns the true nature of Lydia's article, the trust he worked so hard to build crumbles once again. With such doubts filling their minds, is there any hope that Lydia and Cameron will be able to start a new life together?

Chapter Eleven
            It didn't take long before Cam was lying on the floor, face up, a half-empty bottle of wine clutched in a hand. His ceiling fan was so dirty. He'd have to make a mental note to dust up there next time. If he'd even remember in this inebriated state. Do drunk people use words like inebriated? Apparently this one did.   
            He looked to his left, swiveling his head without lifting it off the floor. Callie was lying face down on his couch. One leg dangled off the edge and knuckles that grasped her bottle of vino scraped the floor. Her cheek was squished making her loose lips pucker. Sensing his stare, she opened her eyes; they were red and bloodshot. “You're so drunk,” she slurred.
            “You're an enabebler,” Cam attempted to speak. Clearly it wasn't going well. He could tell in his own head it was wrong and his sister broke out in a fit of giggles.
            “This is fun,” she said, “Why didn't we ever do this before?”
            “Because you weren't twenty-one before,” he grunted and bringing the bottle to his lips, took another swig. The sweetness wasn't so much of an issue after your sixth glass. And after almost a whole bottle? You didn't even taste it anymore.
            Callie sat up on an arm, propping her body in some sort of yoga-like pose that made Cam's back hurt just looking at it. Shit, he was getting old. “Listen, mister. I've been twenty-one for...” she counted on a few fingers, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as though the extra thinking hurt, “many months now. There's no excuse!” Her elbow gave out and she fell back down onto the couch with an oomph.
            “Yeah, well, I've got reponsibilities,” he said. “Responsilibilities,” he tried again. “Re-spons-ib-ilities.” There. He got it, finally.
            Callie broke out into another fit of girlie giggles and rolled off the couch onto her back next to Cam. He couldn't help but laugh too. And damn it felt good to laugh. It was creaky; unused. But nice, nonetheless. “So seriously,” Callie's eyes were only half open, “who's the city chick?”
            Cam groaned. Lydia. Everything came back to Lydia lately. “I need to be drunker if we're going to talk about this,” he lifted the bottle again, the halogen lamp reflecting off the tinted glass. It was noticeably lighter than before.
            “C'mon,” she propped herself up on an elbow. “Tell me about her.”
            He sighed. “She's...beautiful. Like a sunset on...uh, a summer's eve.”
            Callie burst out laughing again. “Okay, I think you've had enough,” she reached across him and took the bottle from his hands. “You just compared a woman to a feminine cleansing product.”
            He closed his eyes, picturing her face. That sleek chestnut hair; grey eyes with little specks of gold like his granite countertops; high cheekbones and large, plump lips. When he opened his eyes, Callie was looming over him smiling. “You're thinking about her, aren't you?”
            He groaned. “She has a boyfriend. It's a moot point.”
            “Did she say it was a moot point?”
            “She doesn't have to. She has a boyfriend and she lied about it.”
            Callie arched an eyebrow. “Which only proves that she's into you, too.”
            Cam thought of the kiss; of her breasts pressed against his body, that silk shirt tickling his skin. “Doesn't matter,” he mumbled. “Boyfriend. In New York. She's leaving.”
            “You should sleep with her anyway,” Callie collapsed back onto the floor beside him and he couldn't help but laugh at the statement.
            “Okay,” he said, “Now you're the one with the drunken drunk talk.”
            “I'm serious! Sleep with her.”
            “She has a boyfriend.”
            “All the more reason to do it. Neither of you will get attached.”
            “You want me to use her to get my feet wet again?”
            “If your feet get wet, I think you're doing it wrong.”
            He groaned. “Oh, gross. You're my baby sister...what do you know about sex?”
            She snorted a laugh. “You sure you want me answering that?”
            “Oh, god,” he covered his face with both hands. “No. You're twelve. You're
twelve and you collect My Little Ponies.”
            Grabbing a pillow, she hit him playfully across the face. “Just think about it, bro. We all just want you to be happy.”
            Happy. The word rolled around in his mind like a marble on a slick surface. It was too soon to be happy. Too raw. He liked the wound—liked keeping it fresh and open. It was his only connection left to Hannah.
            Cam pushed off the ground, room spinning as he got to his feet. With a groan, he grabbed a plastic bag, gathering the empty bottles.
            “What are you doing?” Callie mumbled.
            Cam rubbed his eyes with a knuckle. “I can't have Maddie or mom coming home tomorrow to find these. I'll take them out to the recycling tonight.”
            Callie gurgled something that half sounded like words before she rolled over, smashing her face into a pillow.
            The recycling was locked in a wood shed on the edge of the property to protect their garbage from bears. Cam shivered, his unlaced boots crunching in the snow as he staggered to the shed. He had to pause a moment, leaning on the banister to make the snow below him stop spinning.
            At the water's edge was a vision. A beautiful woman bundled in a coat staring out into the night. Cam blinked. Was he just seeing things? Surely he couldn't trust his eyes when he was this drunk.
            But then, the woman turned and he was struck by Lydia's stunning svelte body, backlit by moonlight. She took his breath away and they both stood frigidly staring at each other.
            Tossing the recycling into the shed, he huffed toward the frozen lake and Lydia stood there, unmoving. His insides wrenched and he didn't bother thinking.
            “Cam,” she said as he approached. Only he didn't let her get anything else out. He grasped her tiny waist with both hands and tugged her into him, sloping his mouth down over hers in a kiss that stirred fire even on the coldest night.
            She moaned into his mouth and their tongues explored each other in wild, feverish movements.
            He scooped his hand into her hair, tugging the strands and pulling her head back to expose her neck. His erection nestled onto her hip and she ground against him. “God, you are beautiful,” he whispered against her. “And smart. And talented.” Then, dragging his lips up her neck, he scraped his teeth along the tender flesh there. Her muscles quivered against his mouth and he grinned, loving that he could affect her this way.
            He kissed her jaw up to her chin, pausing just in front of her full, curvy pout. “What are you doing to me?” He rasped.
            Lydia's eyes danced, fluttering open to meet his gaze. She licked her lips and swallowed. “You've been drinking.”
            “Only a little,” he lied. Cam tried to blink his alcohol fogged brain back into commission, but all he could see was Lydia. All he wanted was Lydia. He didn't care about the wine. Or the auction. Or the fact that she had some boyfriend waiting for her in New York. He just wanted to live in the moment and for once do what his heart desired. “I've wanted to do this since the moment I saw you,” he groaned and pressed his lips to hers once more.
            Lydia's hand found Cam's erection and she squeezed him through the denim fabric. “Fuck,” Cam hissed and trailed one palm down her back to her ass, cupping her through flimsy pajama pants while the other slid into the front, nudging the silky boy short panties to the side.
            She pumped him through his jeans and he brushed his fingertips across her damp heat, dipping his fingers inside. She bucked against him and cried out, her face falling into his shoulder with a stifling bite.
            God, she was so wet. So ready for him. He wanted nothing more than to bury his erection deep inside her wet sex and lose himself there forever. He plunged two fingers deeper this time, using his thumb to circle her clit. Within minutes, she was trembling into his palm, crying out. Her muscles clamped his fingers, pulsing as she came.
            His erection raged just as strong in her hand as she exhaled with a sigh. “That was...” she swallowed. “That was...”
            “Delicious.” Cam finished for her, sucking his fingers clean. She tasted sweet and tangy and all Lydia.
            Her eyes darkened. “Why don't we go inside so I can take care of you, now?”
            Cam looked to the house as a light clicked on in his kitchen. Lydia followed his gaze, her eyes widening in alarm. “Oh, god. Is Maddie awake?” She covered a mouth with her hand, moving it to the blush on her cheeks. “Oh, shit.”
            The ground below him seemed to be suddenly made of pudding and Cam could barely keep his footing. “Y-yeah. I should probably get back inside,” he slurred.
            Lydia nodded. “Of course. I-I'll see you tomorrow.”
            Cam watched as she ran back to the guest house before he too, entered the house. He fell back on the floor below Callie who had resumed her place on the couch. She blinked awake with a knowing grin.
            “Shut-up,” he mumbled.

About the Author:

Katana Collins Katana Collins splits her time evenly between photographing boudoir portraits and writing steam-your-glasses romances. Between navigating life as a small business owner, a first-time homeowner, and a newlywed, Kat is in a constant state of "OHMYGODINEEDCOFFEENOW."

She is the author of the Soul Stripper trilogy, Wicked Exposure, and the graphic novel, Cafe Racer, co-written with Sean Murphy.

She and her comic book artist husband commute back and forth as they please between Brooklyn, NY and Portland, ME with their ever-growing family of rescue animals (up to two dogs and a cat and still counting!). She can usually be found hunched over her laptop in a cafe, guzzling gallons of coffee, and wearing fabulous (albeit sometimes impractical) shoes.

Visit her on the web at , on Twitter @katanacollins, or find her on Facebook


I read the first Soul Stripper novel and loved it and I fell into this book in just the same way. Katana has a way of capturing the character's emotions and nuances that just brings them to life in an almost breathable way. I felt so much for Lydia and the predicament she found herself in and how the story unfolded. Insert foot in mouth and try to recover. Sounds like my daily life. 

I'm still reading this wonderful book but if I had to give it a rating I would go with a 5/5 for pure awesome sauce storytelling and a book that truly captured my heart.


Hey Erzabet! Thanks so much for having me here today to chat about Capturing You!! It's my first ever blog tour and I am stoked!

1. Plotter or pantster?
Plotter! I like to have most of my novel outlined before I even begin writing it. However, many times (especially for the suspenseful murder mysteries), I treat my outlines sort of like the movie Clue. I'll have several potential endings that could work and as I get closer to finishing, I choose the one that makes the most sense or that offers the biggest twist.
2. Name three things on your desk right now.
Sooooo, I don't have a desk. I work either on my couch, the kitchen table or in a coffee shop. BUT, I'm currently sitting at my kitchen table, so here we go:
    1) Earbuds. Usually I don't listen to anything while I'm writing but I think I just threw them down when I got home from the gym.
    2) Glass of water and a cup of coffee (of course). I cannot get any writing done without having the two necessities: coffee and water.
     3) All purpose cleaner. I'm not exactly a neat freak, but I cannot work if my space or laptop is dirty. I clean my keyboard and screen several times a week because I get so, so neurotic about the sorts of germs that must accumulate there.
3. Heels or flats?
Heels when I can stand them! But most days I'm in socks, flip flops or Uggs depending on how cold it is! But if I'm going out? Definitely heels!
4. Cheeseburgers or sushi?
Ah! It's like Sophie's choice! Hmmmm, I honestly LOVE them both so much. Man...I think I prefer cheeseburgers, but I don't allow myself that splurge all that often. So, because sushi/sashimi is healthier, I'll choose that.
5. What advice would you give a new author?
Man, even though I have five books out, I still FEEL like a new author, myself! I would say get yourself in a critique group. Choose about three to four other writers and meet as often as you can with new material. Many people prefer to have writers who all write in similar genres as themselves, but I'm the opposite—I love that members of my group write different stuff. Two of us write romance, another writes fantasy and sci-fi, and the last writes horror.
6. You write paranormal and mainstream romance. What is your favorite genre and why? (Loved the succubus stories!)
Oh, my god! You're making me choose?!?!?! You are MEAN! ;o) In some ways, I think paranormal is easier. Yes, it's more world building, but there are infinite options and it's so much easier to write solutions to mysteries when there's magic involved (in my personal opinion). Writing contemporary is a lot more difficult for me; creating real issues that hit close to home and may or may not resonate with certain's just a whole other ball game.

Can I cheat and say that my favorite genre is whichever one I'm currently writing??
7. Is there a song that you think of for Capturing You?
I think maybe Jim Croce's Photographs and Memories. That damn song makes me cry though, so if I'm not in the mood to feel down, then Weezer's Photograph.
8. Favorite dessert?
This changes almost daily...but I'll go with cupcakes. More precisely buttercream (I could throw away the cake part, eat only buttercream, and be just as happy!)
9. What's next on your writerly horizon?
In March, 2015, I have another new series coming out—erotic suspense this time, called Wicked Exposure. It's about a forensic photographer with the NYPD. “Jessica is devastated to receive word of her sister's death in a robbery gone awry. But when she arrives home in Portland and the local PD asks her to take pictures, she finds more than she bargained for. With each new photo she exposes more of her sister's secret erotic life. And when she shares her discoveries with Sam, the super sexy local detective, she experiences passion she never knew possible. But Jessica soon learns she's merely a pawn in a deadly game of betrayal and revenge and begins to wonder if her next picture could be her last. . .”

Tour giveaway

3 paperback bundles of the Soul Stripper Series open to US Shipping

2 digital bundles 
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Monday, December 15, 2014

Breathless Monday: Spencer Dryden and Then, One Frozen Christmas Eve

Happy Breathless Monday! Welcome back Spencer Dryden. Today he brings a holiday Flirt called Then, One Frozen Christmas Eve. Take it away Spencer!

1. How did you start writing erotic romanceWith pen and paper then I switched to my laptop where I do most of my writing now. Seriously though, I had aspirations of writing non-fiction for a long time and in another life I wrote regularly for professional trade journals. I never was an avid fiction reader so I didn't give much consideration to writing fiction. Then one day I find myself at 62 thinking that I better try some of the things I've dreamed about or I'm going to go to my grave with nothing for the people at my wake to talk about. I started writing some fiction-short stories. A friend who is an accomplished playwright read my stuff and told me I should be writing fiction. I have been enchanted by female allure all my life so writing erotica was a natural attraction for me.

2. Plotter or pantster? Panster but trying to become a plotter. I write mainly short works. I'd like to expand but know I'll have to get comfortable plotting.

3. What are three things you have on your writing desk? My laptop, a notebook where I keep hard copies of drafts , and a box of kleenex.

4. Favorite food? I'm going to say Brussel sprouts, not because I like them, I don't, but I'm trying not to think about cookies-my favorite food. I've put on a bunch of weight in the last two years and I know I've got to be eating more Brussel sprouts and fewer cookies.

5. Tell us a little about your new release. What character in the book really spoke to you? "Then, One Frozen Christmas Eve", is a short story in my growing collection of tradesmen stories. My MC (Don Palmer) is a heating technician sent out on a job on freezing cold Christmas Eve.  He meets a woman (Becky) who is in danger of freezing to death without the furnace he can't repair. When he discovers she has no money and no place to go he invites her to stay with him. She is immediately attracted to him and being a bold woman, begins to turn on the heat. Don  suffers from terrible feelings of sexual inadequacy, so he misses the cues. He fantasizes about a romantic connection with Becky but doubts his sex appeal.  Don is a lot like me in my single years.

6. I write because ____it is a fun safe way of living out may fantasies. As an erotic writer I can sleep with any woman I want and my wife could care less.  How cool is that?

7. What is your favorite type of character to write about? My favorite type of character is an ordinary guy, typically a tradesman, a little bit clueless, who falls into the orbit of a sexually assertive woman.

8. What is the sexiest scene you ever wrote? I think it's the love scene in my recent flirt, "Love Above See Level". I have a tall girl teaching a shorter man how to make love to her. I have a thing for tall women.

9. What advice would you give new authors in the erotica/romance field? Concentrate on telling a story, hopefully a compelling story and make the sex a natural part of the story rather than the center of attention. 

10. What is next on your writerly horizon? I have another of my handyman tales due out in January, a novella, "The Substitute". I've been working on a mermaid story for a long time that I hope to get accepted for publication. 

On a freezing cold Christmas Eve, a broken furnace unites a lonely heating technician and his client who is forced out of her home.

On a snowy, frigid Christmas Eve in Minnesota, a heating technician makes an emergency call to a townhome without heat. Don is unable to repair the unit and tells Becky, the occupant, she must vacate the premises and stay in a hotel for her own safety. Becky breaks down and tells Don she has no money and no place to go. She has no friends or family locally and has maxed out her credit cards relocating from San Diego. Don invites her to stay with him until the furnace can be replaced.
Don is smitten by her good looks and warm, inviting manor. He begins to fantasize about a romantic connection, but is restrained by a crippling fear of his sexual inadequacy. Safe at his apartment, Becky turns up the heat on the shy divorcee. Can she melt his fears of intimacy and give him an unforgettable Christmas?
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It was more than the combination of fear and hope in her eyes. I see that all the time as a heating and cooling technician. It was something else. Something erotic that made my cock stir as I stepped into her chilly townhome. My cock was buried under three layers of warm clothing—it was twenty-four cock-shrinking degrees below zero outside—but there had always been a path from eyes to cock. Usually it was a luscious pair of breasts pouring from a peek-a-boob shirt, or a firm, round ass that flashed the go code from eyes to groin. All fair-weather sightings. She was so deeply layered in mismatched clothing there was no sign of her sexuality, except for her sparkling blue eyes that quickly changed from fearful to full of mirth and a hint of lust. They were stroking my cock.
This surreal moment had been orchestrated by mother nature, who decided on December 23 to dump a paralyzing thirty inches of snow on Minneapolis, followed the next day, Christmas Eve, by an artic blast locals call a Polar Vortex. It drags extremely cold air directly from the North Pole. This isn't the cold of some cutesy Hallmark Channel romance movie where a couple trapped in quaint cabin by a winter snow rekindle an old love between commercials for Viagra and pain relievers. This is bone-chilling, mind-numbing, dangerous cold, where just a few minutes of unprotected exposure causes severe frostbite. It's one of the reasons we native Minnesotans aren't all that fashionable six months out of the year. We'd rather be warm than look hot.
My employer, a big heating and air-conditioning contractor, had cancelled all Christmas vacation requests the minute the snow started flying. Didn't matter. The airport and interstate highways were closed. Without a four-wheel drive tank like my service truck, negotiating city streets was difficult, if not impossible.
Heating systems were failing due to the extreme conditions. It made the cash register ring for my employer. As much as I hated it, the crisis offered me lots of overtime, earning pay at time and a half. I even volunteered to be on call for Christmas Day, which paid triple time. I didn't have anywhere else to go anyhow. My wife left me for my best ex-friend Ray six months ago. Sometimes in the quiet of the evening, I still heard her gasping in ecstasy as I came through the front door. I was home early, only to find her beneath Ray, her legs splayed wide as he rammed her furiously. She never made that kind of joyful noise when we made love. It took my breath and my heart. I had turned on my heel and walked out.

Spencer Dryden is a new writer but an old guy on the threshold of draining any reserves left in Medicare and Social Security. In real life he is a handyman, an at-home dad, inventor, and web videographer living a quiet life in the frozen tundra of Minnesota (USA).

He earned an MBA from a prestigious Midwestern university, but is so far behind on the career earnings scale of his peers that the university has offered to refund his tuition if he will return his diploma and disavow his affiliation, lest he continue to denigrate the school's impeccable brand.
His first book, a novella, Bliss was published in April of 2014 in the Covert line at Breathless Press. It is a story of a woman's struggle with sexual shame.
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