Showing posts with label virtual tour. Show all posts
Showing posts with label virtual tour. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Awakening: The Virtual Tour


This is the story of Claire Ryan and Evan Lang. 35-year-old Claire joins a local book club for romance readers in order to get over the breakdown of her 10-year relationship, there she meets book shop owner Evan, a dominant man who has never recovered from the sudden death of his submissive wife.
As their relationship develops and they embark on the path of Claire’s submission, it becomes harder and harder for Evan to keep his emotional distance. Claire is open and responsive and he wants her badly, but refuses to let himself go.
As Claire falls deeper in love with Evan, she realizes that he is holding back and decides to end their relationship, forcing Evan to confront his own past and his feelings in order to save his new love.
Winner of the New Writing Competition at the Festival of Romance 2011


 Review in progress...

I picked up this book and fell in love in the first few moments. A woman who has ended a long term relationship and is alone with a dog. God grief! If my husband ever passed, that would be me. Bookstore and a book club. Yep. I am so there. (manager of a bookstore in my non writing and blogging hours after all). Being alone is a very scary thing. It has a lot of freedom, but a lot of risks and Elene Sallinger sums up the terror of aloneness so well in her opening pages that I couldn't help but want to dive in deeper. Add in the kinky BDSM element and you have me totally hooked. Love it!

So, stay tuned for more of a review as I finish this wonderful book. I love the voice!

About the Author:
Hailing from Washington, DC, Elene Sallinger first caught the writing bug in 2004 after writing and illustrating several stories for her then four-year-old daughter. Her writing career has encompassed two award-winning childrens stories, a stint as a consumer-education advocate, as well as writing her debut novel, Awakening - a novel of erotic fiction that won the New Writing Competition at the Festival of Romance 2011.
Excerpt:
‘I feel safe here.’ She waved a hand around to encompass the bookstore. ‘You make me feel safe. Despite your attitude, I don’t believe you would hurt me.’ Claire flushed such a sweet shade of pink as she spoke, her hazel gaze roaming the store as she looked everywhere but at him.
Safe. She thought she was safe with him. That he wouldn’t hurt her. Evan sat in stunned silence for the briefest moment before a red tide of fury suffused his body. Fury at Marianne for dying and leaving him alone when she had been the centre of his life. Fury at Claire for tempting him and reviving desires that he’d believed were dead and buried with his love. Fury at himself for being so damned foolish and afraid in the face of his temptation. In that moment, he knew himself for a coward and he snapped.
‘Safe. You think you’re safe with me?’ he all but sneered at her. ‘You know nothing.’ He spit the words at Claire as he leant, forward his hands clenched into fists on his knees. She shrank away from him, pushing so far back into the leather club chair her feet no longer touched the floor. Her eyes were wide with shock and the beginnings of fear. Shame crawled over his skin and he reached for self-control, only to lose it all over again when her small, white teeth bit into her trembling lower lip.
‘Damn you!’ He slammed a fist down on the arm of his chair, causing her to jump at the violence of his action. ‘You are anything but safe with me. Every time you walk through that door all I can think about is bending you over my lap and spanking that pretty little ass until it is shiny, red, and stinging. Then fucking you from behind so that the sting feeds the orgasm I give you. I fantasise about binding you and whipping those sweet little tits, your pussy, and your ass. Marking you everywhere so that each time you look in the mirror you remember me and how I put them there, and then beg me to put more on you when they heal. I want to drench you in my come, fuck you in every goddamn hole, and make you scream until you can’t speak.’
As the words died on his lips, he dragged in a breath and took Claire in, really saw her now that the apex of his anger had passed somewhat. She was glassy-eyed and panting. The knuckles of her slim, elegant fingers were white and she gripped the arms of her chair as if her life depended on it. She looked like she was having a panic attack.
Fear and shame overrode his anger and he lurched forward, coming around and sitting on the table before her. He took her face between his palms. She was so tiny, his hands seems to swallow her up.
‘Claire.’ He spoke softly, soothingly, as he rubbed his thumb over her cheeks. ‘Claire, please. Look at me.’
She turned just a fraction, closing her eyes and refusing to look at him. Her motion brought his thumb to rest on her lower lip. Quickly, so quickly he almost missed it, she licked his thumb. It was the barest touch, but the sight of her pink tongue against his skin was more than he could take. What control remained to him was lost.
‘Damn you,’ he repeated, but this time it was the hoarse whisper of a drowning man. ‘Suck it,’ he demanded as he thrust his thumb between her full, rosy lips. She obeyed instantly, enveloping the digit in wet, velvet heat. A shudder coursed through him at the silken feel of her mouth on his skin. She sucked gently in slow draws that he felt all the way to his cock, which surged violently to life.
With his other hand he untied the bow that held the halter of her dress together and yanked the barrier from her body so that it pooled at her waist in a lake of red silk. She faltered briefly, but continued to suck on his thumb as he squeezed her breast, massaging and shaping it in his large palm. She was small, tiny even; the entire globe barely filled his palm, but his mouth watered to taste her. He pulled his thumb from her mouth and trailed damp circles around each nipple before leaning down to suck the puckered tips into his mouth. He sucked hard, eliciting a cry of pained pleasure from her as she arched into his mouth.
He squeezed and pulled, sucked and bit at her nipples furiously, his mind blank except for the driving urge to mark her, claim her. Only when they were red and swollen, jutting out from the cream of her skin, did he leave her breasts. But he was far from done with her. He yanked her hips forward and roughly pushed the skirt of her dress up to her hips. She wore a brief, black silk thong which disappeared in a savage yank as he tore it from her. The fragile elastic snapped as easily as if it were an errant thread. He dropped the offending silk to the floor and threw her legs over the arms of the chair so that she was spread and open to him.

He didn’t stop to appreciate the sight she made, though the memory would haunt him later. Her eyes were half-closed and glazed with desire. Her rosy lips were parted and damp from her tongue. Her small, tight breasts were swollen and tipped with hard, berry-red pebbles from his earlier feasting. The scarlet silk pooled at her waist, framing and showcasing her plump hips and drenched pussy. The damp curls were trimmed close, just a shade darker than the honeyed brown of her tousled hair. No, in that moment, he only took in the sandpaper dryness of his throat and the need to taste her.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Drowning Rapunzel Virtual Book Tour



Drowning Rapunzel
Annette Gisby

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Publisher: Pink Petal Books

Word Count: 66,000

Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs

Book Description:

Recently released from a mental institution, Beth Gregory accepts a job as a live-in secretary/PA to the reclusive painter Josh Warrington. Beth's long red hair fascinates him from the first moment he sees her and Josh wants her to be his Rapunzel for a series of fairy tale paintings he's working on.

Beth has two major fears: that she will be sent back to the mental hospital and the visions which landed her there in the first place will return. They do; this time giving her glimpses of murders before they happen. Beth becomes the main suspect in the murder investigation and then she has the most disturbing vision of all: she will become the next victim...





Short Excerpt:

He wished he'd thought of the water sooner. It was easier that way, not so much mess. It was peaceful too, watching her hair fan out behind her like a veil of gold. She didn't struggle after his hands were around her neck, and he was grateful. It showed him that she accepted her fate dutifully, like she should. She should never have made him wait so long.

Now he was waiting again, but he didn't mind. He was used to waiting now. Waiting could almost have been his middle name. Actually, it was Alphonse, but anyone who knew that was already dead, and so it didn't matter anymore.

It was a while since he had hunted like this, anticipated the inevitable. Usually he preferred the quick kill, where they didn't know he was coming until they started screaming. He liked to hear them scream. Made it all seem that bit much more worthwhile.

But there was something different about this one; something that made him want to wait, to delay the final moment, to make it last. He wanted to frighten her long before the end, when she would beg him to kill her. He couldn't quite tell what it was; there was just an air of something other about her. She wasn't like the other girls, and he grinned broadly. Of course she wasn't. She was special. But then, they were all special. They were his.

Maybe it was the hair which attracted him. It was long, tumbling in red-gold waves down her back, almost to her waist. It reminded him of golden syrup. He loved golden syrup, loved to eat it straight out of the tin with his fingers. No mother to nag him about that. Not anymore. Fingers were fine, but sometimes he preferred bread, white bread, none of that wholemeal nonsense. He could almost taste it on his tongue, could almost taste her and he had to stifle a gasp at the image. No point in attracting undue attention to himself.

He glanced at the folder on the passenger seat, her name stark black against the buff-coloured folder. It had almost been too easy to get hold of her file, but no one knew what he wanted it for and he wasn't about to tell them, either. He lifted it up and traced her name with a gloved finger, feeling almost as if he was caressing her already. This one would be so easy to break; she'd already been in a mental hospital once. He had to be careful; if she was sent back he couldn't get to her, not there with their high walls and staff on alert all the time. No, he just wanted to scare her for a while, but not inflict madness on her once more. He gasped as he saw her walking towards his parked car, her head down, her loose hair being buffeted by the spring wind.

Maybe it wasn't the hair; maybe it was the grey-green eyes which seemed to see right down to his soul.  Would she recoil in terror at what she saw there, or would she welcome it like the others before her? They had all welcomed him in the end. Or maybe it was the way she dressed, so unlike her contemporaries in their short skirts and skimpy tops. Any time he'd seen her, she was always covered up in long dresses and baggy sweaters, as if she didn't want to show off any of her womanly curves. She had curves, the clothes could not disguise them, and he had long imagined his hands roving over her delicate skin.

He also knew that underneath all those layers, there was a wanton harlot waiting for him to let her out, just like all the others. How they loved to tease and torment him. This time he would be the tormentor.

But not yet. He would wait. He was getting good at waiting.


Adventures in E-Publishing
Guest post by Annette Gisby

My first ebook, a short story and novella collection, Shadows of the Rose, was published by Double Dragon in the early 2000's, long before the Kindle was a glint in someone's eye and the iPad hadn't been thought of yet. When it was first out a lot of people wanted to know when it was available as, you've guessed it, a real book.

Now, ten to twelve years later, Kindles, iPads and other readers such as the Sony and the Nook are household names and now people ask me if my work is available as an ebook! With the rise of self-publishing platforms like Smashwords and Kindle Direct Publishing, authors are more in control of their writing than ever before.

Some of my work is with publishers, some of it I have self-published, but they all have one thing in common, they are all available as ebooks. The rise of Smashwords and Kindle Direct has enabled writers to sell short stories electronically, when before the only options were to submit to magazines, who may or may not have accepted them. Then there was erotica, and a lot of traditional magazines and publishers didn't want erotica.

I had written an M/M fantasy romance novel called The Chosen and sent it off to quite a few e-publishers. Some of them wanted me to add more sex, some wanted me to have less sex in it and some weren't that keen on same-sex romances. It found a home in 2010 with Lyrical Press, who wanted it as is, I didn't have to add more sex just for the sake of it, which I was very pleased about. The way it was written, I thought the love scenes flowed within the context of the narrative and I was afraid that if I added more love scenes, they would just look tacked on and not really flow with the story.

The Chosen was my last novel for a while, in 2011 after four years of unexplained dizziness, I finally got to see a balance specialist and I was diagnosed with migraine associated vertigo. A lot of things can trigger the vertigo, it might be food, flashing lights or loud noises and computer screens/television. It also plays havoc with your memory and concentration so I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate on completing a full-length novel for quite some time. This is where e-publishing saved me once again, you don't just have to write novels, some people like short stories too and I have self-published a few using Smashwords and Kindle Direct.

Pink Petal Books/Jupiter Gardens Press is giving one of my older novels, Drowning Rapunzel a new electronic lease of life this year too. It's been revised and extended since that first edition way back when and I'm pleased that with e-publishing, you can give some of your back list a new lease of life and perhaps get more readers who've never seen it first time around.



About the Author:

Annette Gisby grew up in a small town in Northern Ireland, moving to London when she was seventeen. She writes in multiple genres and styles, anything from romance to thriller or erotica to horror, even both at the same time. When not writing, she enjoys reading, cinema, theatre and travelling the world despite getting travel sick on most forms of transport., even a bicycle. Sometimes you might find her playing Dragon Quest or The Sims computer games and watching Japanese Anime. She lives in Hampshire with her husband, a collection of porcelain dolls, cuddly toys and enough books to fill a library. It's diminishing gradually since the advent of ebooks, but still has a long way to go.





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Friday, February 15, 2013

Recipe for Satisfaction Virtual Tour





Mixing business with pleasure has never been so sexy…
Being the financial caretaker for her deadbeat parents isn’t the life professional organizer Sterling Andrews dreamed of. Tired of being the dependable—and boring—daughter, Sterling decides to have a little fun. And what could be more fun than seducing rich bad boy chef, Jack Vaughn? Except, after one scintillating night together, Sterling’s not only lusting for Jack, she’s working for him. And remaining professional becomes harder every day.
Already a major success thanks to his exclusive restaurants, Jack Vaughn is looking for something more. Ultra responsible Sterling is unlike anyone Jack has met…but she’s his employee. Unwilling to give her up, Jack makes Sterling an offer she can’t refuse—for four sexy weekends, he’ll indulge her most wicked fantasies with no professional strings attached. But will mixing business with pleasure spell disaster? Or will they find the recipe for satisfaction?

Title: Recipe for Satisfaction (Madewood Brothers, #1)
Author: Gina Gordon
Genre: Category – Contemporary
Length: 273
Release Date: January 2013
ISBN: 978-1-62266-975-2
Imprint: Brazen




© 2013 Gina Gordon

Chapter One

Was this ridiculous ship ever going to dock?
Sterling Andrews crept to the lower level of the boat, bumping into the walls of the narrow staircase. Her stomach lurched—it’d been in a suspended state of animation for the past hour, and she swiped at the light film of sweat across her brow. So much for finding a man tonight. She needed a restroom. Pronto.
It wasn’t until she’d boarded the luxury yacht with the insane plan to find a man to break her out of her boring, predictable—responsible—rut that she’d figured out she was prone to seasickness. Were you supposed to feel such a large boat sway from side to side? Somehow, she didn’t think so.
Reaching the end of the staircase, she rested her hand on the wall to catch her breath. This was officially the most hideous night of her life. She was sick as a dog on a boat full of strangers, and to top it all off, what seemed like a great fashion choice when she left the house now left her feeling ridiculous.
The strappy four-inch stilettos, combined with vertigo from seasickness, wreaked havoc with Sterling’s balance. Her legs were cold under the shitload of crinoline that only just covered her ass, and she could barely breathe from the bodice that fit snugly around her torso.
Her best friend, Penn Foster—the brains behind the swanky charity event on the yacht and consequently this insane plan—had chosen the outfit, which was totally inappropriate for a professional organizer. Penn was in big trouble.
Sterling gathered her bag close and took a deep breath before heading down to the most interior quarters. Maybe down here the sway of the boat wouldn’t be so noticeable. Just then her stomach decided to do the rumba and she lost her balance. Luckily, the wall was courteous enough to break her fall. A breeze whipped up the stairway, taking with it the hem of her skirt, and the cool air whooshed across her bare backside like a chilly, lecherous hand.
Penn was so dead.
Forcing herself to forge on, she wobbled down the hallway with one hand on the wall for support, but she stopped short at the sound of male voices around a sharp corner.
“It’s time you got back on the horse, brother.” The sound was deep and coarse, like gravel against concrete. “Treat this as your coming-out party.”
“You’re an ass.” The second voice was lighter, but no less potent—a strong caress against her skin.
The first man chuckled. “You have your pick of the litter on this boat. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen any prospects.”
Sterling hugged the wall and wiped her brow with the back of her hand. If she didn’t get farther inside she was going to retch all over this deck.
“Picking up women is like riding a bike,” the first man continued. “Granted, it’s been a while and you might fall off the first time, but it’s not something you forget.”
Sterling bent forward, trying to poke her head around the corner to catch a glimpse of who was in need of riding lessons. Two men stood in the doorway, their profiles to her. The first man she recognized right away—Neil Harrison, the oldest of the Madewood brothers, and Penn’s employer. They’d met when she first stepped on the boat. His white chef’s coat, crisp and clean, accentuated his tall, broad frame. Black ink peeked out from under the collar of his jacket, making her wonder what kind of tattoo he had hidden beneath his clothes.
The second man was stunning. Instead of a white jacket, he wore a black dress shirt—untucked—and dark jeans with the perfect amount of fading. He was definitely underdressed for the swanky event going on above deck. If he were wearing a suit, she would have thought his shaggy black hair was in definite need of a haircut, but dressed as he was, the long strands jutting haphazardly from his head only sharpened his edge.
She recognized him from the pictures she’d seen in the newspapers—none other than bad boy Jack Vaughn, the youngest Madewood brother. Even though they were all known to society as the Madewoods, their foster mother had insisted each son keep his own family name.
The entire city of Toronto knew the Madewood family’s business. Being the foster sons of a prominent socialite and business owner meant the four brothers were big news on the local circuit. And the younger son had quite the reputation. Not a week would go by without a mention of Jack Vaughn in Hello Canada magazine, partying with the super-elite around the world. Well, at least until two months ago when their mother, Vivian Madewood, passed away.
The charity event on the yacht was in support of Cooking for the Future, a program their mother had started when she realized how the culinary arts helped her own foster children. Vivian wanted to continue that passion and help more than just four lucky boys. She’d been an inspiration for the entire city, and Sterling was sad to hear she’d passed.
“You’ve had it rough the last few months.” Neil clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m just trying to help.”
“I can pick up women on my own time,” Jack said. “I don’t need you to hold my hand.”
The ship pitched and nausea rose in her stomach. It traveled north like a warning bell, alerting her to seek out a toilet or the railing of the boat—whichever was closer. She turned quickly and ran into a wall. Or rather, a boy carrying two trays of dirty glasses. Glasses that decided they no longer liked their position on the trays. They crashed to the floor, a loud, obnoxious taunt. Just one more reminder of how bad her luck had been the last twelve months.
She raised her hand to her mouth and mumbled through her fingers, “I’m so sorry.” With glass crunching under her feet, she crouched to pick up the pieces. At least the mess distracted her from her stomach.
“No, Miss,” the young man pleaded. “Leave that for me.” He bent down beside her and picked up his own share of glass. “Please, Miss, don’t—”
“What’s going on here?”
A shiver ran up her spine at the sound of the deep voice behind her. It was even sexier in closer proximity. She tilted her head and confirmed her suspicion. Jack Vaughn.
Beside him, Neil asked, “Sterling, are you all right?”
“I’m sorry, Chef.” The boy tensed and stood steel-rod straight. She was waiting for him to salute. “I’ll clean everything up right away.”
“Nonsense.” She stood, too, and turned to face the two men. “This was all my fault. I’ll clean it up.”
Jack’s intense stare sent a wave of heat inching up her neck, and when he spoke, he held her gaze steady. “George, would you mind heading back to the kitchen to get something to clean this up?”
“Of course, Chef.” George turned on his heel with precision and headed off to follow orders.
She swallowed and tried to break from Jack’s hypnotic stare by darting her gaze to Neil.
“This is Penn’s friend Sterling,” Neil said to Jack with a grin. “I think she was roped into coming so Penn could utilize her super organization skills.”
She smiled. So not the case. She was here to meet a man. But she’d go with it. “You’d be right.”
Jack held out his hand, a wide grin stretching across his face, revealing even, white teeth and a sexy dimple. “Jack Vaughn.”
“I know who you are,” Sterling said softly and fit her hand in his.
“My reputation precedes me.” His flirty grin was no longer so flirty.
“You do have quite the reputation.” She squeezed his hand trying to let him know she was cool with his “reputation.” In fact, he was exactly what she was looking for tonight—as long as her stomach didn’t mess it up for her.
His gaze was definitely serious now. His demeanor had changed within a matter of seconds with one mention of his reputation. Well, hell. Flirting was so much harder than it looked on TV. She would have thought a man like Jack Vaughn would be proud of his reputation. Someone who took pride in the fact that he was infamous. But maybe not. She knew all too well that people’s assumptions were way off base most of the time.
“You’ve got a reputation and I’m uptight. We’ve all got our quirks,” she said. Perfect. Verbal diarrhea. Someone gag me. “I’m Sterling Andrews.”
“Sterling.” Her name came out in a whisper, and for the first time she noticed the silver ball piercing in his tongue. Her stomach clenched at the thought of that hard ball against her—
“I’m going to check on things in the kitchen. If you need anything, Sterling, my brother would be more than happy to help.” Neil patted Jack on the shoulder, and they exchanged a curious look as he walked away.
“Really, I should be the one cleaning up,” she said.
He ignored her offer to pitch in. “What are you doing down here, anyway? The party’s upstairs.”
Because she was a queasy mess. “I was just looking for the bathroom.”
“There’s a bathroom upstairs.” He pointed toward the ceiling, his eyes gliding over her body, from eyes to toes and back again. She smoothed her hands down the front of her skirt, the coarse crinoline rough against her sweaty palms, her heart beating faster as he stepped closer, the glasscrunch-crunch-crunching under his feet with every step.
He stopped in front of her—too close—and cocked his head to the side. “Not your scene?”
Could he read her mind? She let out a breath of relief. “So not my scene.”
He grinned. “I know exactly how you feel. I was hiding out down here myself.” He crouched and balanced on the balls of his feet, rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt. His left forearm was inked, and thick black designs crawled up his skin. She wondered just how far up they went. On his right forearm, what looked like two paws peeked out from under the fabric.
He reached for the glass and she dropped beside him, grabbing his hands. “You don’t have to—”
“Shit!” He dropped the piece of glass. A thick, red stain slashed brightly across the surface.
“Oh, God. You’re cut. I’m such a klutz tonight. Let me…” She reached into her purse, thankful she had decided to go against Penn’s advice and brought her oversized bag. He sucked on his palm as she withdrew a purple makeup case. She rummaged inside, finding a Band-Aid and an antiseptic wipe. She went above and beyond the motto of always being prepared. Sterling Andrews: perpetual Girl Guide. More like wannabe Girl Guide. She’d never had the opportunity to be a real one but if she had, she’d be the one with the most badges.
He chuckled. “You’re either a mom or a nurse.”
“Neither. I’m a professional organizer.” Sterling grabbed his hand, calloused and coarse. A man’s hand. She held the wipe between her teeth, ripped open the wrapper, and cleaned his cut. “It’s not too deep.”
She rearranged her balance, making sure her legs remained tightly together. She may be on the hunt, but she wasn’t tacky. In this position, her stomach had settled some.
When she was done, she glanced up. Her eyes caught in deep pools of chocolate brown sparkling back at her.
George returned and quickly got to work, sweeping around them. “Chef, I’ll take care of this now.”
Jack smiled and gestured with his chin to the kid. “George is a master baker.”
“A master baker?” She looked up at the young boy and he smiled, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen. “At such a young age?”
“He has a future in pastry arts,” Jack said. “A very bright future.”
Jack stood and offered his uninjured hand. Impressed by the gentlemanly gesture, she slid her hand in his and let him draw her up.
“Thank you, George.” Jack nodded before leading her toward the railing, so they could look out into the night. The moon glistened, reflecting off the walls of the boat around them with every ripple of water.
A shiver zinged through her when he slid his hand down her spine, letting it settle at the small of her back. “Do you always carry a first aid kit in your purse, Sterling?”
God, the way he said her name. It was like he was pouring warm honey across her belly…which she sincerely hoped he’d be licking up later.
“Actually, yes.” She laughed. “You never know when you’re going to need antiseptic wipes or a Band-Aid or—” she fiddled inside the makeup case “—a sewing kit.”
“Well, next time I bust a button on my shirt while simultaneously cutting my finger on a dirty knife, I know who to call.”
His sexy smile set the butterflies in her stomach aflutter. Exactly the reaction she was looking for. It was time to put a little fun in her life. Experience things she’d never had the chance to because she was too busy taking care of everyone else, including a two-timing fiancĂ©.
The boat dipped. At least it felt like it dipped. The nausea she had forgotten came back with a vengeance.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “You just turned green.”
“Oh, God…” She latched her hand over her mouth and bent over the railing.
“Sterling?” he called.
But she didn’t have time to acknowledge him.
She braced both hands on the railing and lurched forward. What had been designated as the most hideous night of her life had just been upgraded to the most humiliating. She heaved—and heaved again—fully aware of the man who stalked closer to where she stood puking her guts out into the glistening water.
So much for luring a sexy man. Served her right for thinking she could have fun. She just proved that even her attempt at spontaneity had to be well thought out.
Rough hands caressed her shoulders, then gripped her hair, gathering it at the nape of her neck. Jack held her hair with one hand while the other circled her back. His fingers, soothing against her exposed skin, rubbed tenderly. A wave of warmth surged through her body. She was unsure of its origin—the sickness that now eased inside her stomach or the simple touch of this stranger.
“Feel better?” He was so close, the heat of his body turning up her temperature from hot to stifling. “Take this.”
He offered her a Kleenex, one he must have found in the travel package inside her purse. What was a little fishing expedition inside her purse when he’d seen the inner contents of her stomach fly over the metal railing of a boat? She wiped the tissue across her mouth.
“You’re good at this,” she whispered, then swallowed hard around the soreness in her throat.
He cocked his head, his eyes questioning.
“Taking care of people,” she clarified.
He shrugged. “Let’s just say I have experience with women skilled in stomach pyrotechnics.”
No doubt he’d held many a drunk girl’s hair in a hotel bathroom during his wild antics. But then he smiled, a casual grin that tingled all the way down to her toes. As their eyes met, time seemed to stand still.
“Chef Jack?”
Sterling shook off the dazed feeling as George crept toward them, biting his lip between his teeth. When Jack turned to face him, he immediately straightened. “Chef Neil said you need to get upstairs. He’s going to make his speech.”
Jack shot Sterling a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry.”
“Go.” She waved him off. “This is your party. Please, don’t let me keep you.”
“But—”
“I’ll be fine.” She reached forward and touched his forearm, which rested along the rail.
Sure she would. As soon as the boat docked.
Jack looked between the two of them. That same heat wasn’t reflected in his gaze. He looked on with kindness, concern. Not with the fire he had five minutes earlier, before she’d retched up the contents of her stomach.
“It was nice to meet you, Sterling Andrews.”
She frowned and her shoulders slumped forward when he backed away. “Thanks for…everything.”
He winked. “Glad I could be here.”
Gone was the nausea. Gone was the urge to heave. In its place was the realization that she was most definitely not getting honey licked off of anything tonight.
She rested her body against the rail, the metal bar snug against her armpit, and sighed. What an epic humiliation. But on the bright side, at least only one person was witness to her embarrassment and not a yacht full.
“Why didn’t you tell me you got sick on boats?”
Sterling turned and smiled. Penn sidled up to her, brushing her hair away from her forehead.
“I didn’t know. I’ve never been on a big boat before.”
Penn was the most beautiful woman Sterling knew, and stylish in that glam-goth way. Her porcelain skin was luminescent any day of the week, and her black hair hung just past her shoulders, styled with a roll to the side, and secured away from her face with a white barrette. Tonight, she wore a black dress with white polka dots, the bodice a V-neck with thin straps, and a black belt around her trim waist. And as always, her outfit was not complete without four-inch stilettos. She didn’t go anywhere without high heels.
“How did you know I was down here?”
“Jack sent me.” She held on to Sterling’s biceps. “Do you think you can handle a trip to the ladies’ room?”
Sterling nodded and by the time they arrived at the bathroom, the need to upchuck had finally dissipated.
Slumping forward over the sink, she grabbed on with both hands. The reflection staring back at her from the mirror was horrifying. Her eyes were watery, her cheeks were flushed, and her hair frizzed from her sweat-soaked scalp. “I’m a mess.”
“Shush. He still looked interested and after I get you cleaned up, we’ll hunt him down again.” Penn winked and then dug around inside Sterling’s bag. She held out the travel toothbrush and toothpaste. “What exactly were you doing down here?”
“I…” Sterling straightened and tamed the strands of her dark hair. “I was feeling sick and I was trying to…”
“Escape?”
Sterling laughed. “That’s exactly what Jack said.” She scrubbed her teeth, a little uncomfortable at the way Penn stared at her in the mirror. “What?” she mumbled with the toothbrush still in her mouth.
Penn cocked her head and rested her hand on her hip. “I feel like a proud mama. I tell you to find a man and you waste no time picking the most infamous bachelor on the boat.”
She rinsed her mouth and placed the travel toothbrush into its holder. “You mean Jack Vaughn?”
“Duh.” Penn reached into her own purse and pulled out a travel-sized bottle of mouthwash. When she noticed Sterling’s curious stare, she shrugged. “You think you’re the only one who’s prepared? This comes in handy many a morning when I find myself waking up in a gorgeous man’s bed.” She smiled and thrust the bottle into Sterling’s hand.
After rinsing her mouth with the green, minty liquid, Sterling took a deep breath. Much better. She should probably find a new man to kiss now—one who hadn’t seen her inglorious upchucking. But her introduction to Jack Vaughn had just narrowed the playing field. Not too many were going to compete with that much sex on a stick.
“So, you and Jack?” Penn asked, as she slipped the mouthwash back into her purse, coaxing Sterling for more information.
“It’s not like I sought him out on purpose.” Definitely not. Sterling was way out of her element on this boat. Hobnobbing with fancy, rich people was not a typical evening of fun. However, she had promised Penn she’d try her best to leave stick-in-the-mud Sterling at home and let loose. So much for that plan. And now that she’d met Jack Vaughn, her own self-doubt needled its way back into her brain.
“Maybe not, but the fates have decided something else entirely.” Penn wiggled her eyebrows. She’d been coaxing Sterling to date for months and finally, Sterling felt ready to get back in the game. Granted, she had a lot of baggage, but she wasn’t looking for Mr. Right. She was looking for Mr. One-Night Stand. That was about all she could handle right now. But was Jack Vaughn the best candidate?
“Don’t you think it’s a little awkward?” she asked.
Penn stared at her. “How so?”
“Considering he’s your boss.”
Relief washed over Penn’s face. “When have I ever suggested anything appropriate when it comes to men?” She grabbed a handful of paper towels and held them under the tap, drenching them in cold water. “He doesn’t seem to be as involved in the family business as Cole, Finn, and Neil.” She patted the wet paper towel against Sterling’s face and neck. “He does his own thing.”
Everyone knew that Jack Vaughn partied as hard as he worked. And it was easy to do when you owned five of the hottest restaurants in the world. He flitted across the globe, tending to his businesses, keeping girlfriends in every city. If she was honest, the man she read about in the magazines and the man who held her hair while she heaved just didn’t jibe. But she’d promised Penn, and herself, that she’d break out of her shell. And tonight was supposed to be the first night of a new and improved, sexually enticing Sterling Andrews.
How many years had she spent compartmentalizing her life—organizing, planning, being prepared? Her plans should’ve led to a successful, drama-free existence. Which so far hadn’t worked out. Every moment of her life was spent doing things for other people. She was tired of being used. Now was her time to do something for fun, something strictly for herself. Maybe Jack could be her “something fun.”
“Is it just me or is Jack the hottest thing you’ve ever seen?”
“Honey, try working with three of them every day. I’m constantly wiping drool from my mouth.”
They laughed and walked back to the scene of the crime. George was no longer there sweeping up glass. Sterling glanced at the spot where she’d first seen Jack, remembering his utter gorgeousness.
Penn was right. Those men were drool-worthy. Especially Jack. Who cares if he was the type to take what he wanted and leave her in the dust? That’s exactly what she was looking for. This time, shewas going to be the one to take what she wanted and never look back. And what better man to practice with than the King of Flings, Jack Vaughn?
“So…” She bit her bottom lip. “How exactly do I go about seducing a man like Jack Vaughn?”

The Review:

Recipe For Satisfaction
A Maplewood Brothers novel
Gina Gordon

Contemporary
M/F

Sterling's friend Penn has talked her into taking the plunge and going out for a night of fun.  A party on a yacht but who ever would expect Sterling to get seasick and puke herself embarrassingly over the rail to be discovered by a yummy bachelor named Jack.

Jack helps Sterling during her episode of sea-sickness only to discover he has found someone very special to him and he does not know why he has these feelings but wants to find out more about this woman to be sure.  She definately does not seem to be the usual gold digger.  He finally comes up with a plan.

Sterling has had a rough life due to her parents and their addiction to gambling.  She has fought the odds against her and made her life count.  She got an education, met her best friend Penn and is doing pretty good but she is all work and considers herself "Boring Sterling" and she wants to be "Exciting Sterling".

Jack is in town for a short time and then he will be gone again.  He wants to get to know Sterling better and she has admitted that she is up for a bit of excitement with no strings.  They come to a compromise and she will be "Boring Sterling" and do the job of organizing Jack's mother's estate and will also make time for "Exciting Sterling" with Jack.

She has a fantastic temporary dual life going but once again her parents ruin everything.  When she finds out how bad things have gotten because of her parents and now her sisters are suffering too.  She has to find a way to stop her parents self-destruction and save her sisters, it has gone too far this time and she could lose everything.  It's back to "Boring Sterling" for sure.

She has fallen in love with Jack but can't let him know what a mess her life is.  Jack will surely think her attraction to him is for his money.

A modern day fairytale to be sure but chuck full of emotions, desperation, frustration, ambition and satisfaction.   Truly heart warming story.  Look forward to more from this talented author.

5 stars
Victoria Storm

Gina’s website: http://ginagordon.net/

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Saturday, December 15, 2012

Fire In the Blood Virtual Tour




Fire in the Blood
Bad Witch Book 3
Robyn Bachar

Genre: Paranormal romance
Publisher: Samhain Publishing

ISBN: 978-1-61921-173-5 
ASIN: B008PGMPYK

Number of pages: 139
Word Count: 33,000

Cover Artist: Kanaxa

Samhain     Amazon       Barnes and Noble

Book Description:

It’s good to be bad…

Patience Roberts is the last summoner standing between magiciankind and certain demon invasion. After banishing two or three demons a day for too long, gods know she’d like nothing better than a little down time with her number one distraction—Faust.

But with vampires, hunters and assassins lined up to take her out, who has the time? Still, she has to admit her resistance to the amorous faerie is wearing thin. Not that she’ll ever let on—after all, faeries are notorious for their short romantic attention spans.

Faust, a Shadowspawn faerie, watched as his outcast clan dwindled to nothing. Determined to hold on to the woman he loves, he’ll do whatever it takes to protect Patience. And one day build a life with her.

When an old demon enemy punches through the barrier between the worlds, Patience must draw on every ounce of her reputation as a cast-iron bitch to temporarily banish him. To get rid of him for good, she’ll have to sacrifice one too many pieces of her soul to leave room for love…

Warning: Contains a hero and heroine so hot they’re literally on fire, naughty faerie sex, post-coital cuteness, angsty magician drama, and yet more gratuitous violence against vampires, demons, and innocent furniture.


 “You still haven’t eaten,” Harvey reminded after I hung up the phone.
“Drive through. Don’t let me forget.”
“You said that this morning.”
“I did?” I asked in surprise.
“Yes, you did.”
Damn it all to hell and back, my brain must really be fried, because I had zero memory of that. At least I’d been chugging black coffee all day, so there was something in my system, even if it was only caffeine. I couldn’t keep up this pace for much longer, but I didn’t have a choice. I was the only one left to handle the demon problem. I’d tried to call in extra help from the coasts, and everyone turned me down. They were too afraid of the hunters, and though I couldn’t blame them for that, it still pissed me off. I outsourced what work I could to the local guardians, but it wasn’t enough. They weren’t specialists like me.
I was trying to bail out the Titanic with a teaspoon. It was only a matter of time before we all drowned.
“Well, this time I mean it,” I said lamely.
“Of course, Mistress.”
I grabbed my black cashmere coat from the rack and donned it along with my scarf, then slung my messenger bag over my shoulder. This time I made it halfway across the room before I was stopped, but it wasn’t the phone that interrupted me. It was a faerie invasion, and I had only a moment to recognize Faust by the smoky lenses of his round, dark glasses before he pounced on me. He kissed me fiercely and nudged me back until I stumbled into the front of my desk.
“I dislike this overcoat. It’s much too bulky.” He reached for the buttons and I batted his hand away.
“I’ll be in the car, Mistress,” Harvey called out loudly before vanishing. He’s not a voyeur, and he disapproved of my relationship with Faust. I didn’t approve of my relationship with Faust either. Every summoner knows you shouldn’t get involved with a faerie, because it always ends badly.
“Cut it out. I’m on a call,” I warned.
Faust grinned, and my chest tightened with an emotion I fought not to show. Yes, this was headed toward disaster, but I couldn’t help myself. Faust was the most addictive temptation I’d ever met. He was just so damn pretty—tall for a faerie, which made him about my height, and dark haired with a pale complexion that spoke more of a vampire than a faerie. Faust had an angular face with high, sharp cheekbones that reminded me a bit of a runway model, a finely-drawn brow and a smile that could make a girl weak in the knees in 0.5 seconds.
“It can’t wait,” he insisted. “I’ve missed you.”
He tugged my scarf aside and kissed my neck, and it was suddenly much too warm to be wearing my coat. I didn’t fight him as he unbuttoned the garment and slid it off. I kissed him and indulged in the lovely diversion of letting his nimble hands roam for a few moments, because the past few days had been all business and no pleasure. But I had an appointment to keep, and I pushed him away with a disappointed sigh.
“I missed you too, babe, but I don’t have time for a break. I’m on call 24/7 now.”
“I know you are.” Faust’s expression sobered, and he caressed my cheek. “You’re a brave woman, Patience, and I admire that about you. But that’s also why I’m here.”
“You’re here because you admire me? Funny, seemed more like desire a second ago,” I teased. The corners of his mouth twitched, and I bit back the urge to kiss him. Experience had taught me that if I encouraged him I’d end up naked and bent over the desk.
“There’s a problem—” he began, and I cut him off.
“I don’t have time for more problems. We’re all full up here.”
“This is serious. Zachary has hired someone to kill you.”



Fire in the Blood
Robyn Bachar
139 pages
Contemporary. Paranormal. Sus/Myst. Act/Adv
M/F

Patience is one the last surviving summoners and has her hands full keeping things in an orderly sense so that evil does not take over.  She has been working 24/7 with little time for food let alone sleep. Her love life has been on hold for so long that when Faust comes into her life again she has trouble deciding which she needs more, food, sleep or loving.

A steamy bath seems to set things on the right track for them both and so much more to follow.  Being they both have fire magic when Faust smirks and says "I like my women with a little fire in them"  Patience moans but things do not cool down.

Plenty of evil tries to take hold but they soon learn that Patience has run out of patience.

Plenty of action and heat more than than you can imagine

5 stars


Victoria Storm



Guest Post:


I tend to freeze up when asked about my books. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I’m terrified of speaking in public. (I am.) Maybe it’s because I tend to babble about the plot and how much I love my characters because I’m no good at summarizing. (Also true.) It’s easier for me to let one of my characters do the talking. Thus I decided to let Harvey, Patience’s trusty demon minion, explain the Top Five Reasons Why You Should Read Fire in the Blood. After he finishes this level in Angry Birds, he was muttering something about stars and stupid boomerang birds…

Take it away, Harvey! …yes, you have to, or I’ll put your tablet in time out again. Okay. All set? Here we go!

5. My mistress, Patience. Mistress Patience is the finest summoner I have ever served during my time as a demon. Of course she can be…high maintenance, and she has terrible taste in men. (I suspect that her poor romantic choices began years ago when she traded away her sense of taste in a bargain with a different demon in attempt to win the affections of a boy.) But she allows me to have my own room and pre-orders every new game that I ask for so that it arrives promptly on release day. I’ve never heard of any summoner treating her minion so well. She says that I am “spoiled,” but I prefer to think that she is enlightened.

4. There is a special appearance by the Bean. Everyone likes the Bean, though I do prefer to visit Millennium Park during the summer, and not in November. It’s always colder by the lake, and it’s uncomfortable for demons who have no skin, like me.

3. Action! My mistress and I have been extremely busy as we attempt to stem the tide of invading demons, so this story is action-packed. Mistress Patience is very skilled in combat and is ready to face any enemy. (That faerie also helps a bit. I prefer not to speak about him. I don’t approve of his relationship with my mistress. She could do much better.)

2. This story contains the eternal battle of good versus evil. Despite any misconceptions you may have about summoners, I can assure you, my mistress is on the side of good. She is dedicated to keeping this world and the people in it safe (everyone, not just magicians, which I think is quite charitable of her). (Or at least she is when she isn’t being distracted by that faerie.) In fact, I would say that this story is epic, like a Legend of Zelda game. Just without a Triforce. Or Link. Or an enchanted sword. Or a princess. Well, I suppose the argument could be made that Mistress Patience is like a princess, just a self-rescuing one.

1. Me. I must say that I have all of the best lines in this book. My mistress can be witty, but she is a bit brusque, and we won’t speak about that faerie and his overwrought poetry. Suffice it to say that he is always declaring his love for and devotion to Mistress Patience, and it’s quite nauseating. But I suppose if you’re the sort who prefers romance with your action and adventure, then you will enjoy listening to him. Better you than me, dear reader.

Thanks for being on the blog today Robyn!!! I can't wait to go back and read the whole series.




About the Author:
Robyn Bachar was born and raised in Berwyn, Illinois, and loves all things related to Chicago, from the Cubs to the pizza. It seemed only natural to combine it with her love of fantasy, and tell stories of witches and vampires in the Chicagoland area. As a gamer, Robyn has spent many hours rolling dice, playing rock-paper-scissors, and slaying creatures in MMPORGs.






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