Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Confession: I Broke Writing Rule #1 and I’m Not Sorry

By N.N. Light (Guest Blogger)

I admit it, guilty as charged. My name is N. N. Light and I broke the first rule in writing: never ever write about yourself or real life in a novel. The truth is I am happy I did both and here is why. I was inspired to write Princess of the Light through a chance encounter.

I first got the idea for my book one chilly morning back in 2012. It was a cold wintry morning and I was walking to the grocery store. I happened to look across the street and what I saw made me stop in my tracks. A homeless man was sitting on a curb next to the gas station. He wasn't holding a sign or asking for money. His eyes were closed and his head was uplifted to the sky. There was such a contented and happy look in his weathered face. It took my breath away.

I wondered to myself how he got to be homeless and if there was some way I could help him. I continued on with my day but my thoughts were filled with him and his plight. Could I help him? Who is he?

As the days and months passed, I saw him every day. He kept to himself and never begged for money. He walked. Yes, he walked the length of the town. Every time I saw him, I nodded and said good morning. The simple act of kindness didn't seem like a big deal to me but to him, it was as if I had given him the sun. I started leaving food and clothing for him. The more kindness I showed, the happier he appeared.

I knew in my heart it was my calling to tell his story. He isn't some nameless face; he's someone's son, brother, grandson, uncle, father, husband, and/or friend. If I had the power, I would be his protector and free him from the darkness keeping him prisoner. He would no longer be the forgotten man.

I made a promise to myself to donate part of the proceeds to food banks if my book got published. I am keeping my promise and through my marketing, people are donating to food banks on their own.

My motto for my book and for my life is spread the Light. It doesn't matter to me what your spiritual beliefs are for everyone has the Light inside them. Spreading the Light comes in many forms but it starts with being kind.

I also wrote about myself. Gasp! I know you’re in shock and hoping I brought smelling salts. Stick with me for a moment and let me explain. The romantic story between Mary and Joe is simply based on my own love story.

I met MR N back in 2001. We actually met online in a Buffy the Vampire Slayer yahoo group and hit it off right away. We both adore Buffy and it was one of many things we had in common. We started out as friends but soon it blossomed into love. Through some uphill battles and insecurities on my part, I broke his heart not once but twice. It pains me to admit it but the second time I was truly cruel.

I thought it was over and I had moved on. I joined another Buffy yahoo group in 2003 and as fate would have it, MR N was there. He and I got to talking one night off-list. I asked for forgiveness and he granted it. We took it turtle-slow and before I knew what happened, I was in love with him. I mean, true love (the hills are alive with the sound of music) and my walls came tumbling down.

Long story short, I moved up north and married him in 2004. This past July, we celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary. Every day, I thank my lucky stars he forgave me and loves me unconditionally. This is my love story and every time I tell it (or MR N tells it), people swoon and say how utterly romantic it is. So I incorporated our love story into Princess of the Light

Gabriel, the Archangel and Messenger of God - yeah that Gabriel - visited Mary Miller. He told her, as the key she is destined to spread the Light and vanquish the Darkness. Her first assignment is to restore the soul the Walking Man. Sounds simple enough until she’s thrown in the face of evil, and then Joe Deacons enters her heart. This battle just got a lot more complicated. She must complete her mission without losing all she loves.

Here is an excerpt from the scene where Mary and Joe meet:

The Information Counter sign was to the left just through the doors. No one was at the desk at the moment, but there was a woman wearing a red suit over by the periodicals. She looked a little over average height, but I noticed she was wearing heels. She had thick, long, dark red hair that encircled her face and flowed past her shoulders.

She was stunning.

I hoped she worked here not only so I had a reason to talk to her, but also so that I could get my books without having to do too much unnecessary leg work. That nap was still calling my name.

As I approached, I noticed that she barely wore any make-up at all. Her fair skin looked like it had been touched by the sun recently, too. She glanced up from the newspapers she was replacing from yesterday. She had incredibly animated brown eyes that had an unusual light that seemed to emanate from within. Her nose was small, her lips were full, and her skin looked so soft...

Can I help you with something, sir?” The woman’s voice quivered slightly and she leaned a little, as if she suddenly needed the wall for support.

Whoa, I couldn’t help but think. I frankly felt like a moth to the flame. All I wanted to do was have a reason to get closer to her. The fact that her eyes seemed to shine with an actual light didn’t help matters. I had never felt such an automatic attraction before, and I wanted to lean closer and see what was going on with her eyes.

She was either looking at me like I was the only man in the world--and quite possibly the sexiest one--or else my open gawking had freaked her out. Either way, I couldn’t have told her which it was, because my mouth felt like a cotton ball container.

Yes,” I managed to rasp to her. “Where is your Architecture section?”

Are you looking for anything in particular?” Yes. You, I wanted to say. “I could look to see if it is in stock.” Oh. Are there more of you somewhere?

The sound of her voice was starting to make my heart pound.

She had an earthly beauty about her. There was nothing extraordinary in her features, yet something about her just seemed to glow.

I felt my breath quicken. Joe, what’s the matter with you? Get a grip. You’ve seen girls before.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts without worrying what I looked like and said, “Please forgive my manners, but what is your name?”

Mary.” That just became my favorite name.

I’m very pleased to meet you,” I said as I extended my hand to her. “I’m Joseph. Please call me Joe.”

She hesitated for a moment before she shook my hand. Electricity bolted up my arm that I wasn’t prepared for. I wondered if she could hear my heart beating. Pretty sure these emotions weren’t winning me any bro-code points.

Her face was flushed and her eyes brightened with interest. Let go of her hand, Joe, I tried to coach myself. If I didn’t let go of soon, I might never be able to.

So I quickly let go of her hand but immediately regretted it. The whole room suddenly seemed cold and empty.

She probably thinks you’re some kind of wacko. Stop staring. You’re a logical guy... Be reasonable here. Besides, she’s probably married. I ran my fingers through my hair and tried to remember what we were just talking about. I looked up to see her glance towards the entrance. If she asked me to leave, I wouldn’t blame her.

I tried to act composed, while I glanced down at her left hand. I didn’t see a ring, so I cleared my throat and tried to act like a reasonable man again.

Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Mary.” Even to me, my voice sounded unnaturally thick and hoarse. I cleared my throat and looked back at her.

Yes, it’s great to meet you, Joe. Let me show you where the section is.” She turned and simply pointed to the far left corner of the store.

Just when I thought she was through with me completely, she motioned for me to follow her.

As she led me to the back of the store, I tried to switch off my desire and concentrate on the task at hand. Focus, Joe! Decorum! The inner jokes weren’t helping. They just wanted to make me giggle like a schoolboy, and I doubted that would help matters much.


Sometimes breaking the rules is needed to tell a really great story. I hope you will see how weaving real life with fantasy makes for an irresistible book. More writers should rebel like me and add dashes of real life into their stories.

Buy Links (Available in E-book and Print):


October Contest

Donate to your local food bank and win a $25 Amazon gift card. Take a selfie at the food bank and tweet it to me ( ) using the hashtag #POTLContest.  I will also accept emailed entries (nnlight [at] outlook [dot] com).  Open to Worldwide Participants. Winner announced on November 1st and their pic will be spotlighted on the Princess of the Light website. Let’s feed those in need and spread the Light!!!

Sign up for my Princess of the Light newsletter to get exclusive content on all things book and writing related:

Author Bio
N. N. Light was born in Minnesota, lived in Southern California only to move to chilly Ontario, Canada to marry her beloved husband MR N. She is blissfully happy and loves all things chocolate, books, music, movies, art, sports and baking. Most of the time you can find her on Twitter or getting new ideas on how to spread the Light on Pinterest.

Part of the proceeds of Princess of the Light will go directly to food banks in order to feed the hungry and help those in need. With only 7,500 books sold, N. N. Light will be able to set up a monthly endowment for the local food bank.

I’d love to connect with you either via email or via these various social media sites:
Email: nnlight [at] outlook [dot] com

I wanted to thank Lisabet for having me on her blog today. You are so gracious and I am forever thankful!

Happy Reading!

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Sneak Peek (and Contest!): Good Faith by Liz Crowe

[I've got a great book for you today, and an amazing set of prizes being offered. Check out the list after the excerpt! ~ Lisabet]


Strong personalities—volatile marriages—stressful careers—conflicting goals—difficult children.

Contemporary challenges facing close-knit families form the crucible that forges a new generation.

Brandis, Gabriel, Blair and Lillian emerge from the entanglement of their parents’ longstanding emotional connections, but one’s star will burn brighter – and hotter – than the others.

With a personality that consumes everyone and everything in its path, Brandis Gordon struggles to maintain control as he ricochets between wild success and miserable failure. His life proves how even the strongest relationships can be strangled by the ties that bind.

Brandis and Gabe Frietag are as close as any brothers, bound by both loyalty and fierce rivalry. The strength of their ultimate alliance is tested time and again by Brandis’ choices.

Companions from birth, Blair Frietag and Lillian Robinson share loner tendencies, but come to rely on each other through adolescence. As they mature, both are forced to confront their feelings for the men they knew as boys.

Somewhere between the tangle of good memories and bad, independence and addiction, optimism and despair, the intertwined destinies of the new generation finally collide, leaving some stronger, others broken, but none unscathed.

As a chronicle of three families navigating the minefields of teen years into the turbulence of young adulthood, Good Faith holds up a literary mirror to contemporary life with joys and temptations unflinchingly reflected. Its fresh, real-life voice portrays the sheer volatility of human nature, complete with the hopes, dreams, and unexpected setbacks of marriage, parenthood and “coming of age.”


That morning his father had roused him from a sound sleep. He’d blinked, confused, by the angle of the sunlight. He rarely slept much past eight since he usually had some sort of training or the other.

Let’s go son. Time for lunch.”

Brandis had dragged himself up, his limbs feeling like they weighed a thousand pounds each. His brain buzzed with a strange sort of energy, his typical state, and not at all welcome considering it normally didn’t hit him until later in the day. The conversation his father began as soon as they were seated at their usual diner did not help.

So, listen, Brandis. These girls…Katie’s friends from college….”

Brandis sipped his ice water, waiting for his father to finish the thought. His heart pounded, and his face flushed hot with embarrassment.

Jack sighed, as if exasperated that Brandis didn’t pick up the thread on his own, leaving him to carry on with the awkwardness about to ensue. Then he leveled his gaze, his face open, not angry or judgmental. “I think that you may be in for some…I mean, they’re…shit.”

If you are gonna tell me where babies come from again,” Brandis said, after deciding to ease his father’s obvious distress. He cocked an eyebrow and half a smile. Jack seemed to relax somewhat as Brandis continued. “Don’t bother. I already know.”

He flashed his brightest smile up at the middle-aged woman who stood at their table, coffee pot in hand. She blinked rapidly at him, and at that precise moment, Brandis got his first flash of…something…about his power. Up until now he’d merely been “Brandis the trouble maker, the causer of strife.” Suddenly, he felt strong, amazingly so, stronger than even the man sitting across from him, a taller, older version of himself. His body tingled all over, as he tested the smile out again on the woman, making her slop some coffee out onto the table. His father frowned, but then chuckled as the woman walked away after they gave their orders.

Son,” he said, leaning back and cradling the coffee mug to his chest. “Your adventure has only just begun.”

Huh?” Brandis picked up his cup but didn’t drink any. He hated coffee, but had ordered it in a burst of need to be more like Jack. As he sipped the bitter stuff, he was transported back years before when he and his dad would spend every single Saturday morning together, eating breakfast at this very diner. He had adored the man, he remembered distinctly. His chest hurt at the simplicity of their relationship then. He looked away from Jack’s deep blue, knowing gaze.

The subject changed of its own accord, and Brandis let it. Although part of him wanted to ask for advice, a much bigger part would not allow the words past his lips.
They ate, discussing the upcoming football season and Brandis’ part in it. The recruiting company Jack had contracted last year to video his every move would start up with the first game. He’d made varsity again, technically as backup quarterback to a senior boy. Brandis didn’t see this as a setback and had every intention of starting under center by the second or third game.

Finally, when they pushed their empty plates back and sat looking at each other, Brandis felt more comfortable in his father’s presence than he had been in a long time. Jack said, “I am pretty sure at least one of those girls sleeping in the basement is determined to change the status of your virginity for you probably as soon as tonight.”

Brandis choked on the last sip of lukewarm coffee. His face burned, and his body tingled again. “I’m…it’s…uh….” He clutched the napkin in his lap unable to meet his father’s eyes.

No need to say anything. Let’s just say your mother is an astute reader of female intent. While I was busy admiring your sister’s friend’s ass, she apparently read the girl’s mind or something.” Brandis’ face flushed even hotter.

He resisted the urge to protest, to proclaim his innocence of such things. Because he wanted it back—those mornings between them, father and son, man and boy, not this awkward, man and almost-man bullshit. Because while the thought of one of his sister’s college friends popping his cherry remained a pleasant fantasy, it also made him feel older than he wanted to be right then.

So, I bought a box of condoms this morning,” Jack went on. “Put some downstairs in the side table drawer and the rest in your room. Use them please.” He sipped the last of his coffee, looked as if he were about to get up, then leaned forward, touching Brandis’ wrist. “Have fun. Don’t be an asshole to women. Let every experience teach you…something. Because you are nothing as a man if you don’t learn from every woman you…love.” Jack looked out the window onto the nearly empty parking lot. Then he turned back, tightened his grip on his son’s arm. “God, you are so…young.” His face fell a moment, then he perked up again, his eyes twinkling. “Okay, so, your mother told me to tell you not to let them corrupt you. But all I’m gonna say is this: always wear protection, no matter what, no matter how much you don’t want to. And don’t let your mom catch you in the act. I’ll handle her otherwise.”

Then he let go, stood and smiled, draping a friendly arm around Brandis’ shoulders as they exited the restaurant.

You really didn’t tell me you were admiring Katie’s friend’s ass, did you, Dad?”

No, son. I most certainly did not. You obviously misheard me.” Jack winked as he stood by the passenger’s side of his classic Corvette convertible and tossed the keys to Brandis. “Remember what I told you. Don’t ride my clutch.”


Use the Rafflecopter widget below to enter Liz Crowe's huge giveaway.

GRAND PRIZE: Kindle Fire pre-loaded with all Liz Tri-Desitny titles

FIRST PRIZE: $50 Amazon Gift Card

SECOND PRIZE: $25 Amazon Gift Card

THIRD PRIZE: full ebook set of STEWART REALTY SERIES up to Good Faith (8 books in all including the prequel House Rules)

For links to the other blogs on the tour, go here. You can enter at each one!

About Liz Crowe

Amazon best-selling author, beer blogger and beer marketing expert, mom of three, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe lives Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.

Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction subgenre, “Romance for Real Life,” which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”). More recently she is garnering even more fans across genres with her latest novels, which are more character-driven fiction, while remaining very much “real life.”

With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.

Get your copy of Good Faith today! (It’s currently on sale for only 99 cents!)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Monday, October 20, 2014

Meet My Heroine: Jane Hollinger

By Lorna Peel (Guest Blogger)

Jane Hollinger is thirty one and recovering from a devastating divorce. After being dumped by her husband and business partner then discovering he had been having a year-long affair with a client, Jane doesn’t think she will ever recover from the betrayal. She isn’t in any hurry to begin dating again because, as she puts it, she’s the wrong side of thirty. She spends her time teaching family history evening classes and one of her students is a man named Mitch. His strange appearance makes her very nervous but at the same time she is intrigued by him.

After a few classes and encounters with Mitch, Jane discovers that the man who has been sitting at the back of her class is a man she thought she would only see in her dreams. When she discovers his name is Robert Armstrong, one of Britain’s biggest acting stars, she is stunned. Robert asks Jane to help her with an up and coming television role and also to help him with a mystery in his family tree.

Jane and Robert become friends but realise the chemistry between them is too strong to ignore. Jane begins to discover what dating a celebrity is like and Robert gets a taste of the normal life. Then, the British press get wind of their relationship, and Jane must decide whether she can put up with press intrusion and the paparazzi to be with Robert. Find out what she decides in Only You!


Why do you run away?” he asked quietly. “Do I still frighten you or something?”

No.” He just had a habit of turning her into a gibbering wreck.

Then why?”

She felt herself redden. “Because, if you want to date me, I don’t know how,” she admitted. “I haven’t dated anyone since university and that wasn’t even proper dating. Tom took me out to dinner once. We were students; we couldn’t afford to go to restaurants, so it was usually fish and chips or a burger. I don’t know how to date properly, Robert. I’ve never been out with a man your age and it’s mortifying to have to admit it. That’s why I take the easy way out and run. And, apart from that, your ex-girlfriend was everything I’m not.”

Which is precisely why she is now my ex.”

Why did you split up?”

It’s a cliché, but we ended up wanting different things. I’m not into all that ‘let’s see how often we can get in the papers’ stuff. I didn’t like going to clubs or restaurants where there would be photographers outside. She did. I’m an actor, not a celebrity. I hate the whole celebrity thing.”

But you’re very famous now,” Jane protested. “And you’ll be even more famous when Mitch Burns is aired. I mean, on the web…” She pulled a face.

What on the web?” he asked.

You don’t surf the net much?”

Not at home, no. Sometimes at Vince’s, he’s a mate of mine. I haven’t even turned my laptop on at the apartment yet. Why?”

Um. Well, there are websites dedicated to you. Loads. Some of them are a bit…”

More blood gushed into her cheeks and he rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m just an ordinary bloke.”

There was nothing ordinary about him. “There are millions of women out there who compete against each other to see who can come up with the best sexual fantasy involving you. That doesn’t really strike me as normal.”

Looks like I’ve got some work to do, then.”


I’ll boot up my laptop and dedicate a few websites to you.”

What?” she squeaked. “No you bloody won’t! If my parents saw…”

You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”

And that’s just corny.”

He shrugged. “That was meant to be a compliment. All right, you look like crap, if that’s what you really want to hear.”

She snorted and laughed. “Thank you.”

He inclined his head. “Look, Jane. Just tell me whether I’m wasting my time.”

No,” she sighed. “But I think you’re mad.”

He came slowly towards her and took her hands. “No, I’m not.”


Not,” he whispered, then kissed her. “You’re not going to run, are you?”

It’s my house.”

Ah. Good point. Can I have your mobile number?”


Don’t you want me to text you sometime?” He gave her a wink.

Sexy ones?” She cringed as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

They might be,” he replied mischievously. “So don’t show anyone.”

They exchanged phones and numbers.


Thank you.” He put it back in his jacket pocket and returned hers. “I’ll ring you the odd time, too. Now can I have a peep at these websites about me?”

Her heart lurched. “No!”

Why not?”

Because the women—and quite a few men—in the guest books, message boards, and forums would queue up to rip your clothes off and handcuff you to the bed so they could smear cream all over you and lick it all off. “Because you’d find some of them a bit embarrassing.”

That bad, eh?”


Thanks, I think I will.”

Won’t be long.”

She went out to the kitchen, switched the kettle on again then leaned heavily on the worktop. Right, let’s get this absolutely straight. Jane Hollinger is in a relationship with Robert Armstrong. She inhaled and exhaled deeply before she reached for the jar of coffee.


Jane Hollinger is the wrong side of thirty, divorced and struggling to pay the mortgage her cheating ex left her with. As a qualified genealogist, teaching family history evening classes is a way for her to make ends meet. But she begins to wonder if it’s such a good idea when a late enroller for the class is a little... odd. “Badly-blond Bloke” both scares and intrigues Jane, and when she discovers he is her all-time favourite actor and huge crush, Robert Armstrong, she’s stunned. Even more stunning to Jane is the fact that Robert is interested in her romantically. He’s everything she ever dreamed of, and more, but can she overcome her fear of living in the public eye to be with the man she loves?

About Me

Lorna Peel is an author of contemporary and historical romantic fiction. She has had work published in three Irish magazines – historical articles on The Stone of Scone in ‘Ireland’s Own’, on The Irish Potato Famine in the ‘Leitrim Guardian’, and Lucy’s Lesson, a contemporary short story in ‘Woman’s Way’. Lorna was born in England and lived in North Wales until her family moved to Ireland to become farmers, which is a book in itself! She lives in rural Ireland, where she write, researches her family history, and grows fruit and vegetables. She also keeps chickens (and a Guinea Hen who now thinks she’s a chicken!).

Thank you for featuring me on your blog, Lisabet!

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Sunday Snog #146: Exposure (F/F excerpt)

The new edition of Exposure is now available from Excessica. I'm so impressed - they actually got Barnes and Noble to release it the same day as everyone else!

So of course I have a snog from the book for you today. My heroine Stella is bi, and this is an F/F excerpt. I hope you like it.

When you're done here, hop over to Victoria's for more sweet and sexy weekend kisses!

Oh, and to celebrate the release, I'm doing a giveaway. Leave a comment with your email address and I'll throw your name into the hat for a $10 Amazon gift certificate.

Get your copy of Exposure today:
Amazon US

Amazon CA

Amazon UK

Barnes and Noble

I smell her before I see her. She must have freshened her perfume when she changed. And certainly she has changed. Her stylish but severe suit has been replaced by a black velour lounging outfit, a loose tunic and flowing pants. Her hair is a mass of damp curls, as if she just toweled it after a shower. She has exchanged her fashionable mauve lipstick for bright red. She looks ten years younger, and I have to admit, incredibly desirable. The velvety fabric of her outfit just cries out to be touched.

She notices me looking at the folders. “Those are Tony’s files on the campaign. I left them out for you. There are draft speeches, position papers, notes on people and places, ideas for campaign activities.” She glides across the polished wood floor and stands behind me, her hands resting on my shoulders. “I always told him he should get a tablet or at least a smart phone, but in some ways he was very old-fashioned.” Her breath is warm on my neck. She lifts the heavy veil of my hair and brushes her lips over the sensitive skin behind my ear. Hot blood rushes to my earlobes, my nipples, my sex.

“For example, he liked old-fashioned girls, with plenty of curves.” Now her hands are cupping my breasts, her thumbs gently massaging the nubs that protrude even through three layers of bra, blouse, and jacket. She flicks her tongue along the line of my jaw. I gasp at the answering lightning that arcs through my body. “You know what I mean, don’t you, Stella?”

She’s taking control, gentle but determined. Oh, how I long to give in to her! I want to sink into her, drown myself in her kisses, lose myself in her strength. I’m so tense, vibrating between fear and desire, that I’m ready to scream.

She grasps my chin, turns my face to hers, her lips already parted and ready. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse the pile of folders. This is not why I’m here, I think, as her mouth fastens on mine and her tongue probes me. But I can’t seem to resist her.

Her lipstick is cherry-flavored, which almost makes me laugh. Then I gasp as she slides a bold hand up the inside of my thigh. She finds the bare skin at the top of my stocking. “Mmm,” she murmurs, nibbling at my lips. “A garter belt. So traditional. So sexy. You’re such a delicious, old-fashioned slut.”

That word, from her, is too much of a shock. The tortured Barbie leaps into my mind. My whole body stiffens. Hoping that I am not insulting her, I push her away and stand up hurriedly. A spike of pain skewers my ankle at the sudden weight.

“No, Francesca. We agreed that our relationship had to be platonic if we were going to work together. You think today was bad, just think of the circus if the press found out that we were lovers.”

Francesca smiles weakly. “Well, we’d get the gay vote.” She sighs, and brushes my hair out of my eyes. “But I suppose that you’re right. For now we need to keep our hands off each other. It’s so difficult to resist you, though.” She gazes longingly at my bare throat, where my blouse has come unbuttoned. Then she straightens and smoothes her tunic. I watch her face rearrange itself, from eager lust to calculated firmness. The liquid warmth in her eyes freezes to a glittering hardness.

“I’m so lonely, Stella. I apologize for trying to seduce you, but since—that night—being alone has just been unbearable. I’m strong, though. You know that. I’ll make sure that it doesn’t happen again, if that’s what you want.”

“You know what I want.” I recognize her play for sympathy, but I feel sorry for her anyway. “I just don’t think that’s what’s best for us right now. For either of us.”

Don't forget to leave a comment!

Saturday, October 18, 2014

My Name on the Cover!

By Willsen Rowe (Guest Blogger)

Firstly, thank you to Lisabet for graciously offering me this guest spot. For a minnow such as myself this is a wonderful opportunity.

Hi, everyone! I’m Willsin Rowe, I write erotica and erotic romance, I’m a busy cover artist, and I’m a dude. I’ve actually been around the block for quite some time, with my first published story coming out way back in 2006. That was with a minor publisher which closed down a couple of years later, and without my stories there registering on any kind of scale.

Since that time my output has mostly been slow, in part because I spread myself so thinly at times. With plenty of cover art, plus a working band, not to mention family life and an Evil Day Job, I barely managed to complete any stories. I was co-writing with Katie Salidas, and we turned out a good number of stories over a 12 month period, but not a lot of solo stuff.

In 2011, the day job decided they no longer required my services. Earlier this year, the working band stopped working. And only a month or two ago, Katie Salidas and I decided to finish up our co-writing efforts and unpublish all those stories (though we still work together in the ways we always had before we co-wrote–it’s a totally amicable “separation”!).

As a result of all that, for the first time in more than two years, I’ve released a book with a lovely big “Willsin Rowe” on the cover.

This, I Can Do is a short and sweet erotic romance, dealing with the upheaval that a young baby can bring to a marriage. It has its origins in my own experiences, and theres more than a little of my wife and me in the main characters. And as a bonus, I got to write about a beautiful curvy woman!

So, without further foolin’ around, here’s a little bit of a taste of “This, I Can Do”.


Teresa Ross is having the morning from hell. Still fairly new to motherhood, the changes to her once-slender body are one thing. But a teething baby she can't calm and the sleepless nights that go with it have drained her resources.

Even a phone call to her calm-voiced husband Bradley does nothing. But when he surprises her by coming home from work, everything suddenly feels right.

The lustful look in his eye lights a fire inside her that she feared had been doused forever. Far from being disgusted by the jiggly bits and stretch marks that taunt her in the mirror, Bradley sees the desirable woman shes always beenwith a whole lot more depth and character.

When Bradley uses his daddy-magic to get the baby to sleep, the world is suddenly a beautiful place. But when he sends Teresa to bed, rest is the last thing on her mind. 
To truly connect with her husband again, shell have to put aside her body issues. Under Bradleys tender touch and fiery eyes, suddenly that seems like the easiest thing in the world to do.


The bed was comfortable and the morning was warm. With the blinds closed, the room had a twilight feel about it. The night had been awful, and my handsome husband was tending our beautiful baby. The house was quiet and the bedroom was toasty. Conditions were perfect for a long and well-deserved sleep.

So it was sweet torture to realize I was horny like I couldnt believe. Damn Bradley and his hand on my hip. Damn his words of praise. And most of all, damn those beautiful eyes of his, roaming all over me.

My shower interlude had done less than nothing. It was like killing one ant, only to awaken the entire colony. The tickling want in my pussy had only one cure, and, after four months of discomfort, 19 hours of agony, and seven months of parenthood, it was the one that scared me the most.

My husbands cock. No matter how much Id missed the feel of him inside me, the way hed rock his hips against me and pin me to the bed and draw long moans from within me, Id let fear block me. And fear had become a habit. A habit that needed breaking as soon as possible.

Everything was quiet in the house. Either Bradley had left with Abbie, or hed done the impossible, and actually gotten her to sleep.

Babe?” I remembered my sister using that voice. The one you try to project three rooms away without actually making any noise.

He nudged the door open. Abbie was still in his arms, but with a pacifier in her mouth she was finally, blissfully asleep. Or maybe it was the warmth and strong pounding of her daddys chest. Hell, Id long ago lost count of the times Id fallen asleep listening to Brads heartbeat.

Babe, why dont you put her down?

Aw, I dont get to hold her like this all that often.

I drew the covers slowly down and showed him where my hand was.Oh. okay. Please yourself. And Ill just have to do the same.

Bradley moaned as he once again studied my naked body.Oh, god. Ill be right back.

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About the Author

Willsin Rowe falls in love with a scent, a playful expression or an act of casual intimacy more easily than with physical beauty. When confronted by any combination of these he is a lost cause.

He has done many things over and over. He has done even more things only once. He has half-done more things than he cares to admit.

He is intelligent but not sensible. He is polite but inappropriate. He is passionate but fearful. He is honest but reticent. He is not scruffy enough nor stylish enough to be cool.