Saturday, July 30, 2016

The Moussaiefff red diamond (#bdsm #pnr #dragon @kryssiefortune)

The Moussaieff Red Diamond

By Kryssie Fortune (Guest Blogger)

Thought all the big diamonds were discovered centuries ago? So did I. But a Brazilian Farmer found this star in a riverbed during the 1990s.

Although originally called the Red Shield Diamond.

It was cut by the William Goldberg Diamond Corp. The rough stone was 13.9 carats, which means it's not the biggest diamond in the world, but it's one of the rarest.

In 2001/2002, after it was cut, Shlomo Moussaieff, bought it. He changed the name to the Mossaieff Red. This man is part of a jewelling dynasty based in London's park Row. He never revealed his fortune, claiming he never revealed his net worth. I love that he once told an Israeli newspaper that according to the kabbala, that would be asking for misfortune. "Anyone wishing to buy for less than one million pounds need not enter? I help people get rid of their money."

One myth about diamonds is that the clearer the better. Here's a quote from Google

Which is the Most Expensive Diamond Color?

In white colorless diamonds the obvious answer is D (the scale goes from D-Z). While there can be debates about which is more expensive, the blue diamond or the pink diamond, there are no debates as per which colored diamond is the most expensive - The Red Diamond.

This diamond helped inspire my book, Dominated by the Dragon. It gets a tiny but incredibly important mention in there. I wonder if you can work out why? One clue - It's not a book about a diamond hoist, but it's working title was Diamond are for Dragons and there's a red diamond symbol on the cover



Buy links




Blurb

A former super soldier turned dragon demon must choose between his soul mate and saving the world from a nuclear winter. 

The British army's nuclear testing bonded a dragon into Flynn Hemsworth's soul. Military scientists vivisected and tortured him until he escaped two years later. Although he's never aged, he's been alone and on the run for almost six decades. When he prevents a naked woman from being the prize lot in a coven's slave auction, he realizes she has an unexplored submissive streak.

Hope Mathews-a sassy blonde with killer keyboard skills-is a strong independent woman. When Flynn prevents her being sold to a demon, she discovers she enjoys spankings and light bondage. 

Together Hope and Flynn must shut down a coven of black magicians, rescue kidnapped demons, and stop a black ops nuclear missile hitting the UK. Even if they manage all that, Hope's the granddaughter of a billionaire while Flynn's still on the run from the military who want to dissect him again. Can they find common ground and build a life together?

Reader Advisory: Contains explicit language, a virginal heroine who discovers she enjoys spanking and bondage. Add in some serious dragon demon loving, light the blue touch paper, stand back, and watch the sparks fly.

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Friday, July 29, 2016

Sneak Peek: A Variety of Chains (#pnr #coverreveal #vampire @CBlackthorn)

A Variety of Chains cover

Blurb

Kathryn McCulsky is an ErGer – a rare and highly prized individual in the supernatural world.
She has spent her life running and hiding, but circumstances have changed and the only way to protect her family is to hand herself over to the Vampire Lord of London to face slavery or death.
Lucian Neben runs his London court with a stern but fair hand, but political pressures are building from both the human and fey worlds, and taking possession of an ErGer would cement his position of power.

Kathryn is vulnerable and broken almost beyond repair, but she holds in her hands the one treasure Lucian desperately wants – the possibility of home and family.

Can he teach her to open herself up; to choose to life, and him, before reality forces him to take her freedom?

Note: A Variety of Chains will be available through all main online bookstores in print and digital on the 20th of August.

Excerpt

It was inevitable where this evening was going to lead. For an ErGer to bond, the mind needed to be broken open as only sex could – and her own body would force it soon enough. 
 
"Pick up the wine and take a sip," he said.
"I don't drink," she replied. 
 
His eyes remained expressionless, as was his voice when he spoke again. "It was not a request." 
 
Absolute obedience for the safety of the girls. 
 
She reached for the glass and took a small sip. As she tried to put it back down, his hands tightened on her waist and brought her attention back to him mid-movement.
"I am thirsty, too."
She offered him the glass, but he shook his head. "My hands are full."
To illustrate this fact he began to trace little half circles over her belly with his thumbs. She tried to offer the glass to his lips but he shook his head again.
"Not like that." There was a hint of amusement in his eyes and a twitch to his lips. Instead, she tried to offer her wrist, but that simply made him raise an eyebrow. 
 
"How then?" She felt the desperation in her own voice and tried to suppress it while making the cold return.
"Take a sip and hold it in your mouth." 
 
She was starting to have an idea where this was leading. She tried to lean forward to feed him the wine but his hands kept her from him.
"Set down the glass first, then let me drink from your mouth." 
 
Carefully she put down the glass before leaning forward. In her haste and nervousness she parted her lips before touching his and spilled most of the wine down her chin and his neck. She froze in terror, aware of the strength in the hands around her waist and the sharp teeth entirely too close to her. His lips parted and his tongue snaked out to lazily lap at the liquid dripping down her lips and chin. Only when he had cleaned her thoroughly did he allow her to move back enough to meet his gaze. Her eyes fell to his mouth and the spilled wine that painted his neck and shirt red. Small droplets were still caught in the evening shadow of the beard along his cheeks. 
 
"Clean it!" 
 
The first flick of her tongue was tentative at best, barely a touch, but when he moved his head to allow her more access she became bolder. The taste of his skin, mixed with that of the red wine, filled her mouth – unidentifiable, subtle and strange. As her tongue reached his neck, his arousal grew impossibly large beneath her, pressing against the folds of her sex through only two layers of clothes. She shied back – feeling stupid immediately. It was inevitable where this evening was going to lead. For an ErGer to bond, the mind needed to be broken open as only sex could – and her own body would force it soon enough. In her experience, he had shown more patience than any other. Every Lord who had ever acquired her, either because her brother had sold her to them or because they had tracked her down, had taken her blood and body within minutes of their acquaintance. What was the point of delay? 
 


Pre-order links

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/29UKrUc
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/29UcIcx



Author Bio

In "real" life, I am an academic with degrees in Political Science, Economics, Philosophy and Law and an insatiable desire to confound, baffle and disconcert my students. Someone once suggested to me the reason for my stories lay in the desire to offset the tedium and rationality of academic life. He wasn't an academic or he would have known better. It is best to use research against tedium, students to offset the rationality and an unlimited supply of stressballs for the faculty meetings. The stories? Well, they are just for me - like a mental manicure.

I also write a blog on Feminism and Erotica - come talk to me:


Cover reveal hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

Thursday, July 28, 2016

Sports romance? Kill me now please! (#romance #fad #marketing)



I don’t pay a huge amount of attention to the latest hot topics in the market. Even if I wanted to write what’s currently popular, I’d never keep up. I write too slowly. By the time I published my fashionable opus, the trends would have changed.

On the other hand, I’m somewhat aware of what’s the current rage, simply because I know so many authors and host so many of them here at my blog. For instance, I know that step-brother romances were selling like hot cakes a few months ago. Before that it was billionaires, of course, though I guess they’re now a bit passé. A few days ago, a colleague informed me that the absolutely latest, up and coming sub-genre is sports romance. Looking at the posts that come through my Triberr stream, I think she’s right.

Oh dear.

I admire my fellow authors who can make sweaty, smelly, macho guys seem sexy. Muscle pain and locker rooms, cut throat competition, a focus on physical perfectionI’m sorry, but that’s so not me...!

I’m a dancer, but I’ve never had any attraction to sports, of any kind. In general, I’m a bit of a klutz, except when the music starts. And I have to say, I find most sports utterly boring. I know I’m not making many friends here. Many of you love tennis, or basketball, or soccer, or track and field, and probably you’d love to read a story about these activities.

Sorry, but you’ll have to find someone else to write it. (And of course, given its burgeoning popularity, you will...)

It’s funny. I can imagine penning a tale in almost any sub-genre. I’m willing to write way over the edge, too. Things that some people might find distinctly disturbing not infrequently find their way into my work. But sports? Turns my stomach, I’m afraid.

Sorry. 

 

By the way, while I have your attention, let me remind you that all my books are still half off at Smashwords, until Sunday. That means you can get The Gazillionaire and the Virgin for only $2.50, and Slush for free.  


Okay, so they’re not the latest, hottest subgenre. But darn it, they’re good!



Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Going all the way, and then some (#erotica #fairytales #freebook @SharonFisher)


By Sharon Lynn Fisher (Guest Blogger)

I never set out to write an erotica collection. I was supposed to be working on my second sci-fi romance, but I’d reached that point about halfway through when things suddenly get real. When the honeymoon period has ended, and you’re not sure you and that book have what it takes to go the distance. So basically I was trying to escape, and I wrote a scene that became the second chapter of “The Garden Rules,” the first erotic bedtime story in Before She Wakes.

At the time I had no expectations. I didn’t even know if what I was writing was any good. I showed it to some trusted readers and got some encouragement, and months later I decided to finish that first story. I shared it with my agent, and with additional encouragement from her, I wrote a second one. The original plan was to indie publish, and we did try that with the first two. But I just didn’t have time for the kind of promo you have to do as an indie author, and also I wasn’t sure about the market for individual erotic short stories. In the end, we sold a collection of six stories to Penguin Random House, for their Loveswept imprint.

What I’m really here to talk about, though, is how these stories were different from anything I’ve ever written. As a sci-fi romance author, I’d written plenty of sex. But when I wrote that first scene of “The Garden Rules,” I locked my inner critic in the basement. At the time, I had no idea I’d end up pitching it to a traditional publisher, so I wrote what I wanted and let the chips fall where they might.

By the time I started the third story, I’d taped a note to my desk that said, “Remember to have fun.” Every time I started to worry about whether the story was working, I asked myself, what’s the most fun I could have with this story right now? And if what came to me was something that caused my inner critic to pop out and say, “oh no you don’t,” I just crammed her back in the basement and did it anyway. Every time her voice drifted up, warning me something was too weird or over-the-top, I knew I was on the right track.

The result was stuff like a herd of randy fauns, a purple fairy with an oversized phallus, steampunk sex toys, dragon shifters getting it on in the clouds, and a pair of French monarchs licking confections off court visitors. It’s resulted in Goodreads reviews with comments like “If you like fairy tales, keep your mind open, and just go with the flow!” And it was, hands-down, the most fun I ever had writing ANYTHING. 

By the way, I'm giving away a free copy of the book to one person who comments. Tell me what you think about my excerpt, or the concept of erotic fairy tales in general. I'll randomly select one person as my winner. Don't forget to include your email address so I can find you if you win! 


Blurb

You’ve never read bedtime stories like these. RITA Award finalist Sharon Lynn Fisher blends fantasy, science fiction, and dark romance in these bold tales of seduction and sensual awakening.


The Dragonmaid’s Secret

On the king’s orders, a mercenary has come to ransack the village of Roussillon. But when he confronts the town’s defender, the dragonmaid Isabeau, he is seized by the call to mate—for this rogue is, in fact, a dragon-shifter.

Raven Takes A Pearl

Pearl is a captive of Master Raven—part man, part crow, part machine. And as she submits to the curious probing of the dark-winged inventor, Pearl discovers that her body contains mysteries even she never dreamed it possessed.

The Garden Rules

After swallowing an acorn sweetmeat, Sylva is transported to a fantastical forest and begins training as a nymph at the behest of her faun master. But before she earns the right to please him, she must complete three tantalizing trials.

The Kelpie’s Prize

Dragged beneath a fairy pool by a mechanical horse, Vivi finds herself held by an alchemist claiming to be Merlin himself. Now, to escape an ancient curse, she must play the wanton seductress—and pray he releases her in more ways than one.

Willa And The Wisp

In the bayou that covers the long-ago flooded city of New Orleans, Willa uses light to keep her safe from the creepers. She never expected that light to take the form of a brightly glowing man—a lover who ignites a flame that just may thaw her frigid grip on self reliance.

The Dragonfly Prince

In post-apocalyptic Ireland, a virgin gives her hand in marriage to broker peace with a genetically modified race. But when a human rival challenges the dark prince’s claim, the bride chooses the field of contest: her own body.

Excerpt

This scene is from “The Dragonfly Prince.” It’s about a young woman in post-apocalyptic Ireland who gives herself in marriage to keep the peace with a clan of genetically modified humans who call themselves the Tuatha De Danann. What she doesn’t know is that a man she has always considered her stepbrother is in love with her and wants to stop the wedding. When her betrothed walks in on a forbidden kiss, awkwardness ensues. After the stepbrother is ordered out, the bride and bridegroom have their first conversation. 
 
Dayne’s countenance is so smoky and dark that it is hard to imagine what he’s thinking. His arms are folded, and the bunching of shoulder and chest muscles reminds me how powerful he is. My heart races, and I struggle to find my voice. But he doesn’t speak, so I must.

I apologize. Jamie’s behavior was wrong and...unexpected.”

Dayne lifts a dark eyebrow. “You were disgusted by it? It didn’t appear so to me.”

My already hot skin saves me from displaying the shame I feel. “I was surprised. And I...” On an impulse, I raise my chin to better meet the challenge in his gaze. Instinct is warning me I can’t win a game of cat-and-mouse with this man. “I was confused. We grew up together, and I’ve always thought of him as my brother. I didn’t know that he felt differently.”

And now that you do?”

I drop my hands to my sides and take a slow breath, knowing how important my answer is. “Now that I do, I understand why he was so violently opposed to this marriage. And I regret that I’ve hurt him so deeply.”

I know I haven’t answered the question he’s really asking, but he seems to accept it anyway. He strides to the window beside the bed, and I find my eyes following the crimson wings as he moves. Their texture makes them appear to glisten, and I wonder whether they’re as fragile as they look. I wonder whether they’re capable of flight. My da says that the biological mechanics are all wrong. That the winged transgenics were a failed experiment. But they proved more resilient than most of humanity. And though his wings may serve no practical purpose, it’s impossible not to appreciate their delicate-veined beauty.

Has the conflict been resolved?” I ask, a tremor in my voice.

No,” he replies. “But my father will try to distract them until the danger passes. There would have been games after the wedding. Contests of strength. He’s trying to interest them in those.”

I don’t understand what happened. Have I done something wrong?”

He turns from the window. “Yes. But it wasn’t your fault. It was an oversight of my father’s, when he arranged the ceremony with your father.”

I lift my eyebrows, waiting for the rest of it.

You should never have appeared in public at this time of your cycle. A Tuatha woman wouldn’t do such a thing unless she wanted attention from potential mates.”

I stare at him, keenly aware my color is rising again. My betrothed, whom I’ve just met, is talking about my fertility—and he seems to know more about it than I do.

Buy LInks






About Sharon

An RWA RITA Award finalist and a three-time Golden Heart Award finalist, Sharon Lynn Fisher (www.sharonlynnfisher.com) writes stories for the geeky at heartmeaty mash-ups of sci-fi, fantasy, suspense, and romance, with no apology for the latter. She lives where it rains nine months of the year, and she has a strange obsession with gingers (down to her freaky orange cat). Sharons works include:

  • Ghost Planet
  • The Ophelia Prophecy
  • Echo 8
  • Before She Wakes


Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Review Tuesday:Animal Dreams by Barbara Kingsolver (#romance #literature #reviewtuesday)

Animal Dreams cover
 
Animal Dreams by Barbara Kingsolver
Harper Perennial, 1991

Have you ever encountered a book so beautifully written that you can’t bear to read more than half a dozen pages at a time? Of course you want to know what’s going to happen, but then you encounter paragraphs that just stop you in your tracks with their perfection. Sometimes the emotions portrayed overwhelm you with their intricacy and their truth. Other times it’s the aptness of some metaphor or the vibrancy of some description. It’s tough to make progress in a book like that. One doesn’t want to squander the experience, the sense of wonder that comes from such exquisitely fashioned prose.

Barbara Kingsolver’s books seem to have this effect on me. Her brief biography on the back of Animal Dreams says she’s “a writer of fiction, non-fiction and poetry”. The poetry explains it all. In a poem, as in her books, every word counts. With a sort of splendid humility, in concise, direct sentences that somehow convey profound meaning, Ms. Kingsolver gradually exposes her vivid, flawed characters as they stumble through their lives.

About a year ago I read Ms. Kingsolver’s more recent novel, Flight Behavior. I found it so stunning I couldn’t bring myself to review it. Honestly, I felt I couldn’t do it justice. When I finished this earlier book of hers a few days ago, I vowed I’d write a review before I lost my nerve.

Cosima "Codi" Noline returns to her tiny, traditional hometown of Grace, Arizona after a self-exile of more than a decade, because she doesn’t know where else to go. Her beloved younger sister Hallie, with whom she shares the sort of closeness usually reserved for twins, has set off to civil-war-torn Nicaragua to offer her expertise as an agriculturist to the peasants trying to build a new society. Her father, the emotionally distant physician who has ministered to Grace’s ailments for forty years, has been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, and Codi feels some sense of responsibility toward him, despite her conviction that he neither loves nor approves of her. She does not belong in Grace, though, or so she believes. The problem with Codi is that she doesn’t belong anywhere.

As she takes on a one year contract as a high school biology teacher and struggles to reconnect with people from her childhood, she tells herself she’s just passing through—that she can’t and won’t make a commitment to these strangers. Even when she falls in love with a high school flame, and lends her scientific expertise to a campaign to save Grace from ecological disaster, she holds on to the notion that her stay in Grace is temporary. She has lost too much in the course of her life—her mother, her unborn child, her father’s love, her sister’s company—to trust in any sort of enduring happiness. At the end of her contract, she heads for Colorado, running away from Grace one more time. You can’t run from your fears, though—or from your dreams.

The synopsis above doesn’t even begin to capture the emotional complexities in Animal Dreams. Codi is so deeply scarred she’s ready to throw away the love she’s always craved, to leave the home for which she hungers. She’s a bit of an extreme character, but Ms. Kingsolver makes her believable, partly by providing brief glimpses into the deteriorating mind of Codi’s father, Homero Noline. The doctor’s memory wanders through time, reliving events from his daughters’ childhood, confusing Codi the gangly, willful child with the young woman who has returned to care for him. These three or four page sections, scattered throughout the book, provide a sort of tragic insight into Codi’s history and show the reader how much Hector loves his daughters, and how blind the heart can be.

One of the joys of this book is the rich, affectionate portrait it paints of the American southwest. Codi’s lover Loyd is Native American. There are marvelous scenes among the ancient ruins of Canyon de Chelly and in a contemporary Pueblo community. The novel brings Grace to vivid life: the red-shingled houses clinging to the steep walls of a river gorge, surrounded by pecan and plum orchards and anchored by the formidable old women who are its heart. Its inhabitants people leap off the page, quirky, old-fashioned, distinctive, and nobody’s fools.

Here’s a paragraph from page 9—an example of the simple yet evocative prose that fills this marvelous book.

I was the only passenger getting off. The short, imperious bus driver opened the baggage door and made a show of dragging out luggage to get to mine, as if I were being difficult. A more accommodating woman, he implied, would be content with whatever bags happened to be right in front. Finally he slapped my two huge suitcases flat out in the dust. He slammed the doors and reclaimed his throne, causing the bus to bark like a dog, leaving a cloud of exhaust in the air, getting the last word, I suppose.

And here is the amazing first love scene:

He leaned over and I took his head in my hands and gave him the kiss I’d been thinking about for the last two hours. It lasted a good long while. He twisted his fingers gently through the hair at the back of my skull and held on tight, and my breath stopped while he laid down a track of small kisses from my earlobe to my collar bone. We lay back on the grass and I rolled against him, looking down into his eyes. They were dark brown, a color with depth to it, like stained glass. It was a little surprising to look at brown eyes after all the pale blues of Grace.

Just being held felt unbelievably good, the long drink I’d been dying for. For a second I hugged back as tightly as I could. Something inside his buttoned shirt pocket made a crackling cellophane sound. I raised up a little and poked it with my finger. “If you’ve got a condom in your pocket, Loyd Peregrina, this is my lucky day.”

He did. It was.

To be able to write like this, I’d be tempted to sell my soul.

Get yourself a copy of Animal Dreams. It might inspire you as much as it did me.


Monday, July 25, 2016

Sneak Peek: One More Second Chance (#smalltownromance #medical #secondchance @JanaRichards)


One More Second Chance Cover

Hi, everyone! I want to thank Lisabet for giving me the chance to shout out about my small town romance, One More Second Chance, here at her blog. I am currently giving away a copy of the book at Goodreads, and I hope after reading a bit about this tale you will take the time to enter. Just go here: 


~ Jana

Blurb

Dr. Alex Campbell has an agenda—finish his contract to provide medical services in Maine, pay off his medical school debt, and head back to his real life in San Diego.

But when he meets Julia, all his carefully laid plans are put in jeopardy.

Julia Stewart, Lobster Cove’s high school principal, swears she’ll never let another man drag her away from the home she loves. Her aging parents need her, and the Cove is where she wants to raise her daughter. When her mother’s illness brings her and the big city doctor closer together, panic sets in. Her marriage taught her men don’t stay.

Can she put aside the heartaches of the past and trust Alex enough to accept the love he’s offering? Or will her fear of abandonment mean she’ll send him away forever?

Excerpt

What did the x-ray find?” she asked.

A spiral fracture of the right arm.” He paused for a moment and took a deep breath as if trying to control his emotions. “I’ve seen this kind of injury before. A fracture like this can be the result of a fall, but it can also be an indication of child abuse. An arm as small as Ava’s will break like a twig if it’s twisted hard enough. I’m obligated to contact the authorities if I suspect abuse.”

Julia stared at him in mute shock, her brain struggling to process his words, as if trying to translate some unintelligible language. The words child abuse rang in her ears. Finally she found her voice.

You think someone deliberately hurt her?”

Her injuries are consistent with abuse.”

I don’t give a damn what they’re consistent with. Ava has not been mistreated. My mother said she fell down the stairs, and if that’s what she said, then that’s what happened.”

I believe there’s more to the story than a simple fall.”

If it comes down to believing you or believing my mother, I’m going with my mother.”

Perhaps you don’t know your mother as well as you think you do.”

Julia sucked in a breath and stared into Dr. Campbell’s dark, accusing eyes. The idea that her mother would hurt Ava was ridiculous. She adored Ava, would do anything for her…

She blinked and looked away, remembering an incident the other day. She’d heard her yelling at Ava about the milk she’d spilled on the kitchen floor, making such a huge deal of it that Ava had cried. It had struck her as strange, since she couldn’t remember her mother yelling at anyone, ever. She wasn’t as patient as she used to be. And how did she explain her strange phone call telling her Ava had been hurt? Of course she’d been upset, but her mother had been nearly incoherent with distress. Was something going on she wasn’t aware of? She was seventy-one now. Maybe looking after a rambunctious five-year-old was too much for her.

No. She shook her head to reject the disloyal thought. Dr. Campbell was the one who was wrong.

I know my mother. She didn’t do this. It was an accident.”

We’ll soon find out. Sharon is questioning Ava now.”

Julia stared at the door. “She’ll be scared, all by herself.”

Sharon’s very good at what she does. She has a way of making kids feel comfortable.”

Julia turned on him, the anger and despair she’d been holding inside spilling out. “And you? Do you enjoy upsetting five-year-olds and turning families’ lives upside down? Does it make you feel powerful to sic the authorities on us?”

Look, Mrs. Stewart, I take no pleasure in bringing in the authorities. But I’ve seen child abuse, up close and personal, and I can tell you it’s damn ugly. The things parents and caregivers are capable of doing to defenseless children…”

He stopped abruptly, his chest heaving. Closing his eyes, he averted his face and took a deep breath. When he turned back to her, his steely control was back in place. “So yeah, if I have even the smallest suspicion that a child has been abused, I’m going to ask questions. And I’m not going to apologize for it.”

About Jana

When Jana Richards read her first romance novel, she immediately knew two things: she had to commit the stories running through her head to paper, and they had to end with a happily ever after. She also knew she’d found what she was meant to do. Since then she’s never met a romance genre she didn’t like. She writes contemporary romance, romantic suspense, and historical romance set in World War Two, in lengths ranging from short story to full length novel. Just for fun, she throws in generous helpings of humor, and the occasional dash of the paranormal. Her paranormal romantic suspense “Seeing Things” was a 2008 EPPIE finalist.

In her life away from writing, Jana is an accountant/admin assistant, a mother to two grown daughters, and a wife to her husband Warren. She enjoys golf, yoga, movies, concerts, travel and reading, not necessarily in that order. She and her husband live in Winnipeg, Canada with their Pug/Terrier cross Lou and several unnamed goldfish. She loves to hear from readers and can be reached through her website at www.janarichards.com


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