Monday, December 31, 2012

A Kiss at Midnight

It wasn't deliberate, or what she'd expected.

Laura had actually planned to leave around eleven. She had to work tomorrow; hospitals didn't close for New Year's Day. The one glass of wine she allowed herself was long gone. She was exhausted from last night's shift. Her jaw ached from the constant smiling. She really didn't want to hear any more about Jill's and Howie's upcoming trip to Jamaica, or Martha's promotion, or Reese's engagement. All that Laura had to look forward to was curling up in the new quilt Mom has sent for Christmas, with a paperback mystery and her plump tabby Morris for company.

She'd made moves toward the bedroom where the coats were piled, but Gretch had intercepted her and begged her to stay. Gretchen was her best friend. Laura felt guilty refusing. She accepted a plastic glass of champagne and stood by the window, watching the drifting snow. Most of Gretchen's guests huddled around the TV, counting down with the broadcaster in Times Square.

Huge flakes swirled lazily like feathers from giant down pillow. She hoped that she'd be able to get a cab. Without thinking, she sipped at the effervescent liquid in her hand. It was chill and sweet on her tongue.

"Five. Four. Three. Two. One..." came the chant from the rest of the crowd. Laura barely heard them.

She felt his presence behind her an instant before he laid a firm hand on her shoulder and turned her around. She had a confused impression of worn plaid flannel and tousled brown hair as he gathered her to his chest and brought his face to hers.

His mouth was silky and strong and tasted like champagne. His brazen tongue played along the seam of her closed lips, teasing her into opening. A rush of heat flooded her when he entered, turning her earlobes and her nipples to burning coals. The air seemed to leave her lungs, sucked out by his energetic kiss. She staggered against him, suddenly dizzy. He held her closer, one bold hand cupping her buttocks while the other supported her under her arms.

He delved deeper, fanning the flames that whipped through her body. Between her legs, under her tights, she was melting. His scent rose around her, cherry pipe tobacco and old-fashioned lavender cologne. She ventured a tentative hand up his back and felt solid muscle move beneath his shirt. His fingertips grazed the side of her breast. A spark shot from her nipples down to her sex. She gasped into his mouth and he swallowed the small sound, kissing her harder.

Laura lost herself in the velvet darkness behind her closed eyelids. She didn't want to break the spell. She relaxed into his arms, letting him explore her body as though they were completely alone. Rigidness pressed against her belly, kindling a drunken sense of triumph. He was as aroused as she was.

The kiss lasted for hours. One moment he nibbled delicately as her lips. The next, he forced her wide and plundered her mouth, grinding his thigh against her crotch all the while. Champagne bubbles had found their way into her blood. She felt bouyant, giggly, light as air.

Finally he released her. "Happy New Year," the stranger murmured into her ear, nuzzling her throat wetly. Laura gazed up at dark eyes brimming with laughter and intelligence. She realized that she was trembling.

"Do I know you?" His face was vaguely familiar, but the rich baritone voice was completely new.

"You do now," he said with a grin. He raised his champagne glass to her in a silent toast, then took a sip. "I'm Dan. Gretchen's brother. And you're Laura, right?"

"Um--right." Laura felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Did Gretchen put you up to this?" She forced herself to move away from him, even though what she really wanted was to throw herself back into his arms.

"Put me up to what?" Dan raised his eyebrows in mock innocence. "It's midnight on New Year's. You're supposed to kiss the person standing next to you."

Laura looked around. Sure enough, lots of couples were locked in heated embraces. She would have sworn that Dan's kiss had taken hours, but clearly it was only moments after midnight.

"Hm--well--thank you." Her still-taut nipples pressed against her sweater. She was sure that Dan could see them. She took another step backward and was acutely aware of how damp her panties had become. "I've got to go home now. Happy New Year."

"Wait!" He grabbed her hand. His strength was obvious. Laura wished she could melt into the floor. "Don't go yet. It's early." He searched her face and she saw doubt in his eyes for the first time. "Unless there's someone waiting for you...someone else...a lover..."

Laura's resistance fluttered away like the snowflakes outside. "No, there's no one waiting for me--except my cat. I don't have a lover."

Dan's relief was obvious. He circled her waist and pulled her against him. "Now you do."

His lips claimed hers once more. Laura knew it was going to be a good year.

Saturday, December 29, 2012

My Book, My Nemesis…

By Chacelyn Pierce (Guest Blogger)

First, let me say thank you to Ms. Lisabet Sarai for hosting me today. I'm not much of a guest blogger because, well, I feel like I really don't have much to say that would be interesting. But I wanted to share the history of The Last Pyr of Eden and how far it came. Not to mention how it nearly took me out and crushed my spirit.

Originally finished in 2010, it sat collecting dust on my hard drive for almost two years until I subbed it this past summer. It was called Ethereal Heat back then and it was my nemesis. This manuscript had literally put me through Writer Hell. It tested my strength, my resolve, and nearly broke me. This story wrenched tears from me and not in the joyful sense.

My idea for this story was sound; my series plot was played out to the end. I started writing it and I spent most of 2009 "perfecting" this story that I deemed my best work at the time. Then, my computer crashed and I lost everything, I was devastated. I was 30k into this great story, and then I was down to nothing. I was depressed for weeks to the point that I didn't write anything or jot down ideas. I just moped about the apartment feeling sick, looking like a zombie when all I wanted to do was write the next scene. It was as if the computer virus killed me and my characters too.

But there was a ray of sunlight.

I took my computer to get fixed and nearly kissed the tech guy who told me they were able to pull my work from the hard drive. I waited for three days to get my recovery disks. I was so excited that I'd be back at it; I'd be crafting this fantasy story again. I went out, rented a computer and squealed like a captured pig when my book files sat nice and pretty in this protected folder. I opened it up, lost only 5k, but I couldn’t be happier. My mom bought me a USB, I was saving every five minutes. I was pushing 45k, things were back on track.

So they seemed…

One morning, I plugged in my USB and it was empty. It was okay though because I'd saved on the computer too, right? Nope. I'd been only saving on the USB, which was now blank. My mom called the store which she bought the USB from, and lo and behold my USB had likely come from a batch that was proving faulty. Panicked, I freaked and descended to the self-sorrow again. I was back to the 25k saved on the recovery disk. I lost another 20k on this story. Gone. I was even more distraught. I stopped writing, I was proving useless at it anyway. A few past projects were rejected via agent and I was stuck in this Write and Obliterated limbo with my current WIP.

My husband noticed I hadn't written anything in about a month and I told him that I wasn't getting anywhere. So why even bother. Wrong words to say to him obviously because he chewed me up and down about not quitting and he basically pushed me back into the chair and told me to finish it. My mother provided me with encouragement as well but I didn't want any of it. The only way to get them to go away was to write. I grumbled the first two days. I hated all my characters because I knew where they were supposed to be in the story and they weren't there anymore. I finally got back up to 40k and felt a little better. I kept chipping away at it and finally I had an 85k piece of crap. (I can say that because it was my novel and it was true.) I felt good, though. I polished it up (horribly) and started subbing it.

My query letter got a few nibbles from agents that requested partials. You don't know how happy this made me. I can still see me and my mother rushing out to Kinko's at ten pm to make copies. Those agents liked the plot of the story but ultimately said no. I was disappointed but not crushed. I was so used to hearing no that it hardly phased me.

I knew I had more learning to do; it had everything to do with my technical writing and grammatical issues. I put Ethereal Heat aside and worked on other things, novellas, short stories, and I started subbing to e-publishers. After a few months I met the right friend that helped me see the mistakes that I was missing. She doesn't realize how special she is to me. Finally, after learning a little more, I started getting some contracts, learned more things by my past editors and other author friends that I was lucky to obtain along the way.

In 2012, I opened the file I hadn't opened since receiving my last rejection in 2011. I looked it over with a better eye for detail and got to work fixing it up 2012-style. I chopped it down, took 30k out (funny, isn't it), gave it a new name, and subbed it to the e-pub world. Total-E-Bound picked The Last Pyr of Eden up so fast I was left feeling like I read the acceptance letter wrong. It couldn't be a yes. Yeses didn't come that fast and nothing had gone right with this book, nothing. How did it finally get to the point of acceptance? I was still asking myself that question through the edits. How did my nemesis book and I make it to this point. My answer came when I had to type out the dedication; it was my mom and my husband. Without them, my newest release wouldn't be out for all to see


Outside the protected gates of Eden, ancient enemies lurk in waiting to drain elementals of all their power.

For eons, the four elementals have bled their nourishing blood to sustain life for superior spirit elementals known as Daemons. No race has suffered in despair as critically as the fire elementals—the Pyr. Their numbers dwindled down so miserably, that Raynor is the last known warrior of the race, living on a faint hope that there is more of his kind between both worlds. He ventures out constantly searching for elementals to save from enslavement. In reality, he searches for a female to bond with. After a yearlong trip away from Eden—an elemental settlement hidden deep in the woods—he is immediately confronted by the enchanting Sylph, Samira. She ignites desires and emotions in him that he considered long dead and nearly destroyed like his people. Indulging in his erotic cravings with Samira can be a daring game to play, because elementals have never intermingled in all recorded history


A rocker by heart, Chacelyn Pierce is constantly ear plugged with heavy tunes blaring to stir up the phantom personalities that swarm her mind. It’s no surprise that she enjoys writing and reading to satiate her appetite for the male antagonist in a story. Married to a blatant redhead and mothering a diva, there is never a dull moment in the house. As a native Texan, she doesn’t personally own a horse but follows the unwritten southern rule of knowing how to ride one. When she’s not testing the emotional capacity of her characters, she works part time as a dog groomer.

Find Chacelyn at:

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Choose Your Gift!

Happy holidays, readers!

I hope you are enjoying the festive season. To make things even more fun, I've put together two free stories in PDF for you, complete with my own (albeit somewhat amateurish) covers. You can have either one, just for asking.

Silver Bells is a M/F/M BDSM ménage tale. Isabella is a willing slave to her devoted husband Greg, but their thrilling exchanges of power have always been private. Then, after a holiday party, Greg decides to share her with his old friend James. Can Isabella deal with pain and pleasure when it's administered by two masters?

Last Minute Gift is this month's free story on my website, but I thought you might like a copy for your eReader. Scott is royally annoyed when his boss makes him work on Christmas Eve. Then Flynn walks into the store and changes everything.

To get your choice of book, all you need to do is leave a comment on this post. Tell me: 1) your email and 2) which book you'd prefer. I'll send it back to you as an email attachment.

Could anything be easier?

This offer is open until New Year's Day. But why wait?

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

My best—and sexiest—Christmas ever

By Francesca St. Claire (Guest Blogger)


A lover—this was my only Christmas wish the year I met my husband.

Never mind gifts and delicious food—that I had all year around—or even charity and world peace. Nah. I was thinking only of myself, and I won’t apologize for that.

After a long and hard dry spell in the dating department—partly the fault of a demanding job and a lot because of my lack of enthusiasm for the choices presented—I made a New Year’s resolution to start dating again. But in spite of my best intentions, the year started out much as it had ended—with no dates.

Then one day a note on the bulletin board caught my attention—an Englishman, recently arrived in the country, was looking to meet a Portuguese woman on who he could practice his newly acquired skills of the Portuguese language.

I weighed the pros and cons of meeting a man not forward enough to pursue his goal in person. In the end, I decided I wouldn’t judge him before we met.

It was the best decision I’ve ever made.

Tall and handsome with a beautiful smile and a charming accent, he was instantly a hit with me, and after an hour of delightful chat, I found myself agreeing to a second date. And then another, and another…

Eleven months later to the day, we said “I do”.

It was the 24th of December and Christmas decorations were bright and beautiful, the festive atmosphere and jolly music worked a double charm on me. I wore a yellow dress and coat with navy accessories.

And I felt the prettiest bride ever…and also the happiest.

From the hotel room we had the best views over a sandy beach, blue sky, and baby waves rippling right under our balcony.

I wore red to bed—a sexy satin slip with black silk appliqué from Victoria’s Secret.

It drove my husband wild.

It drove me wild—our reflection in the full-length mirror so strategically placed by the bed as his hands worked their magic on my highly aroused body.

Our first time as husband and wife was fast and furious. The combination of a self-imposed two weeks of celibacy and my husband’s fetish for sexy sleepwear made for an awesome starter.
The main course was served slowly; complete priority given to my pleasure, thorough attention relished on me as his mouth and fingers worked me to a frenzied height.

Then came dessert. Multiple orgasms had brought me relief, but his open-mouthed kisses once again fuelled my need for him—the non-stop desire to have him inside me. He finally obliged, and there was never a more thankful person than me.

His mouth settled over mine for a deep, hot kiss before he hoisted me on top of him. My eyes fluttered closed and I savored the exquisite sensation of skin to skin before I began moving slowly, enjoying the long, languid withdrawals and penetrations as I rode and fell on his thick flesh.

Oh, God. I still get all hot and bothered by the surge of desire these memories bring. My pulse still beats faster at the thought of the look of wonder, desire, and love in his eyes as I fully embedded him inside of me, hot and slick around his aching shaft. And when he would have me stay snug against his pelvis I forced myself back up, rising despite the need to end the torture, and continued with the teasing until I brought him, us, to the brink of orgasm.

The night ended on a mellow note—happy and sated, we made promises of undying love that have since lasted over two decades…and counting.

Arousing Past


Joe Bradley was the love—and heartbreak—of her life.

But that was all in the past. Eight years later Melissa has moved on and made a life for herself—she has a successful career she is proud of and a new boyfriend she likes.

Then Joe re-enters her life, arousing the past, confusing the present, and threatening the future of her existing relationship, as well as her peace of mind by claiming a place in her heart that he no longer deserves.

But how is she going to cope with the constant reminder of the past, her emotional turmoil, and deep-rooted resentment when the reason for all three is now her new boss?
Joe believed once separation was best for them. Now he wants what he foolishly threw away, and he’s determined to have it back.

Today she would see him again…the first time in eight years.

Eight years. And yet she remembered the last time they were together as vividly as if it were yesterday.

The new boss is here…” Nicole announced as she rushed into Melissa’s office, interrupting her thoughts. “Are you going to the welcome party?” Nicole asked, taking a chair across from Melissa’s desk.

What choice did she have? As department head she had an obligation towards her future boss. Besides, her absence would be noticed and excuses would have to be thought up. Such behaviour would be too unprofessional, and all for nothing. In the end, she’d still have to meet him.

After the initial shock that followed the announcement of Joe Bradley as the new CEO of her hotel, she’d considered quitting her job. Reason, pride and curiosity had stopped her from acting cowardly. She’d tackle this new challenge with the same professional finesse she’d used through every hurdle of her life.

Not every hurdle. Well, no, but she would overcome this new challenge just fine. Besides, Joe Bradley meant nothing to her anymore.



I asked if you’re going to the welcome party.”

Sorry… I’ve got too much on my mind. Yes, of course I’m going. Why do you ask?”

I thought you had a date.”

Not until later.” After I’ve met Joe Bradley.

Good. We’ll go together. Two hot babes in a sea of suits and uniforms are bound to impress the hot, single and”—she wiggled her eyebrows humorously—“available new boss.”

Melissa almost snorted. Impress Joe Bradley, indeed, fat chance of that happening. From what she’d heard, Joe Bradley didn’t get impressed easily these days. In or out of the boardroom… His reputation as a tough, demanding manager was only upstaged by the multitude of partners he dated—each new woman outdoing the previous one both in looks and glamour. Instinctively, she combed her fingers through her blonde hair. Stop! This wasn’t a date and she wasn’t going to the reception because of Joe Bradley.

Her college sweetheart.

My first love.

This was strictly business only. He was reputed to be a brilliant professional and she was looking forward to working with someone who she could admire, even if the admiration was limited to one level. Sure!

Are you changing?”

Melissa examined her ash-grey pencil skirt and double-breasted short jacket, matched with a pair of pumps and a silk white top, and decided she had the precise appearance she wanted to portray—modern, elegant and professional. He surely couldn’t fault her clothes.

There had been a time when Joe Bradley had admired and complimented her choice of clothes and accessories. And there had also been a time when she’d dressed to please him. The thought of him admiring her physique brought on an old forgotten tightness in her chest. I must ignore him! He’s not important to me now. It doesn’t matter what he thinks of me. Right! If she kept telling herself that her agitation was nothing to concern herself with, she’d be okay. Joe Bradley is no longer important to me on a personal level. Good. All she had to do now was keep reminding herself of that and she’d be fine.

These clothes will have to do. They’re all I’ve got with me.”

Nicole eyed her with puckered lips and assertive eyes. “And as always, impeccable taste.”

Thank you. I’ll bear this compliment in mind when you next want me to try on leopard tights.”

Nicole laughed, a rich, throaty gurgle that always made those listening smile. “Touché.”

Will you come by my office?”

Of course! Wouldn’t miss our grand entrance for the world,” Melissa teased, but the minute Nicole was out of sight her self-assurance crumbled and she slumped her shoulders.

Why did Joe Bradley have to come to her hotel and disturb her well-earned peace of mind? Why?

I was born on a ship in the middle of the Indian Ocean. This unique event set the scene for an exciting life of romance and adventure, basic ingredients for my sexy short stories.
After having experienced life in six different countries, I'm currently living in southern Europe with my incredibly supportive husband, 2 of our 5 children, and my beloved cocker spaniel.
When not writing, I enjoy watching period BBC series, trekking and baking for my appreciative family.
As a new author with three books published in my first year, I'm grateful to my publishers for having believed in me, and to readers and critique partners for giving me the incentive to continue to write.
~ Francesca
In-Flight Delight & Triple Pleasure – A Romantica® erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Thank you for your attention, and a special thank you to Lisabet for this great opportunity.

Monday, December 24, 2012

Vampires for Christmas

In case you missed my post yesterday, I'm celebrating the release of Coming Together: In Vein, a charity anthology of vampire erotica and erotic romance which benefits Doctors Without Borders. I thought you might like to see the table of contents before deciding whether to buy it. Here you go.

  • Nixie's in Love – C. Sanchez-Garcia
  • Jessebel – Sacchi Green
  • Willing – Xan West
  • Kiss and Make Up – Ashley Lister
  • Devouring Heart – Andrea Dale
  • Blood Tint – Raziel Moore
  • The Taste of B Negative – Cheyenne Blue
  • You'll Love the City – Naomi Bellina
  • It's Lovely. It's Horrible – Kathleen Bradean
  • The Curse – M. Christian
  • Red Wet Kiss – Beryl Falls
  • The New Normal – Jay Lygon
  • Cat – Giselle Renarde
  • One More Transformation – Nobilis Reed
  • Vampires, Limited – Lisabet Sarai
Quite a few of the stories are GLBT-themed. Several focus on BDSM relationships (which always seem so appropriate when you're talking about vampires). You'll also find sci fi, humor, and plain old (well, not plain!) romance - though every story is explicit.

Here's a snippet from C. Sanchez-Garcia's fabulous tale, just to warm you up.

The noisy Dollar General Jesus clock showed it was after five. The sun would be up in an hour. “It’s that time.” he heard her whisper. Dan saw her eyes and suddenly made the connection.

Before he could move, she sprang at him. She had him.

Goddamn, she was so fast.

In an instant he was whirled through the air and landed softly but soundly on his back. She stretched on top of him like a pantheress, making a soothing noise that seemed to creep in, making him sleepy. Her steely fingers pinned his arms. The needle sharp fang teeth were out now, gleaming brightly in the light off the abused lamp, pricking and stinging at his throat, as he struggled to look away from the crimson flecked, bottomless wells of her exquisite eyes.

"Now, feed me. Mein Liebling."

He wriggled his knees under her, then his feet. Her fangs champed and snapped viciously at his throat. Just as she almost had him, he got his feet against her belly and kicked as hard as he could, flinging her backward through the air. She sailed across the room and crashed into the far wall. The plaster shattered at the impact.

That goddamn cheap-shit drywall! There goes my Sunday.

She slid down, dazed for an instant, then jumped back to her feet like a cat, her fingers clenched into claws of demoniac fury. Frantically, he fumbled in his pants pocket. Just as she coiled for the fatal spring, he found it. He thrust it out, almost dropping it. A large mother of pearl crucifix, with a silver Jesus Christ dolefully impaled on its arms. She had said it was gaudy. He liked it anyway.

"Whore of Satan!" he cried "Back, undead vixen! Back to the Hell that cast you out! Back!"

He advanced towards her. She snarled and fell back throwing her arm over her eyes. Then she was moving fast, circling him. "You seek to baffle me with your crosses and your garlic," she sneered murderously. "You with your pale face, to me you are just some fucking sheep in a butcher’s!"

Jesus on a bicycle, he thought. What a cheeseball. She’s got that Stoker stuff down pat, too.

She seized the cheap plastic replaceable – table lamp and winged it at his hand. He ducked as the lamp knocked the crucifix from his grasp and watched the cross slide out of reach under the sofa. God forgive me, but I absolutely adore her. If only she could cook.

She was on him again in an instant. They fell to the floor, clawing and twisting, like Tasmanian devils mating. He grappled for her arms, as her fangs snapped and missed, ripping his shirtsleeve.
His hand slid under the sofa, feeling around frantically. He had the crucifix again. Pulling it out, he shoved it in her face. She jumped off him and he tackled her, sweeping her feet out from under her. They rolled into the table and it went down.

She pushed him off and tore open her T-shirt, exposing her perfect breasts. The urgent pink nipples, erect and rampant, stunned him with lust like a gorgon. Faster than he could see, she swatted his hand. Again, the crucifix flew away from him no idea where it went this time. He could hardly bear to take his eyes off her tits. He had seen them in various situations, pretty much every night for a glorious year, and they still nailed his feet to the floor every time.

She held him down effortlessly, her breasts dangling in front of his eyes, her knees pinning his shoulders. He wanted to just surrender to her, but first there was one more thing he had to try, just to impress her. He reached into his shirt pocket and took out a simple wooden pencil. Her lips puckered into an O of surprise when she saw it, but it was too late. He pressed the freshly sharpened tip against her heart. "Gotcha!"

He held it there like a knife. She climbed off and backed away from him delicately, her eyes wide with surprise. That was a new move he had thought of while doing a crossword puzzle. Feeling immensely smug, he backed her against the wall. "Strip off your clothes – daughter of Satan!"

Leering, she pulled down her jeans and panties together and dropped them on the floor in a bunch. She was naked now, except for the torn rag of her open T-shirt. She leaned dreamily against the wall, with its broken plaster hole, spreading her legs wide enough for him to see everything, watching him. He kept his eyes fixed on the pencil he held over her heart. If his eyes drifted down to the thick delta of wiry blonde hair between her moist thighs, even for a second, he knew she'd wipe the floor and the dinner dishes both with him.


Want to know what happens next? Buy the book! Please! (The link goes to the Coming Together website, where you'll find the most up-to-date set of sales venues.) And remember, every purchase entitles you to a free copy of my book Body Electric - just for the asking!

Merry Christmas to all! 

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Sunday Snog from Coming Together In Vein

It's official. Our charity anthology of vampire erotica, Coming Together In Vein, is now available on Smashwords and All Romance Ebooks (with Amazon coming any day). To celebrate, I have a kiss for you, from my contribution to the collection, "Vampires, Limited".

As I've explained before, every copy of this book that we sell benefits Doctors Without Borders - and believe me, they both need and deserve our help. The authors, the editor and the cover artist have donated their energy, time and talent to support this cause. So I hope you'll be generous. Buy the book for yourself. You won't be disappointed. Buy a copy for your sister, your brother, your neighbor (assuming that he or she doesn't mind explicit fiction). Donate a copy to your local library! Help us get the word out!

To encourage you, I have a special offer. Anyone who buys the book can get a free copy of my short story collection Body Electric, just for asking. Just email me the receipt (saved as PDF, ideally), to contest -- at - with the subject line "In Vein". I'll send you your free ebook by return email.

This offer is good until January 31st, 2013.

Anyway, that's enough marketing - for now! I'll be posting more information about the book, including the table of contents and excerpts from stories by other authors, later in the week. Now - on with the snog!

(And of course - after you're done with my kiss, click back to Victoria's for more lip-smacking action!)


“Tell me about Barbara,” she asked finally. “The woman in the photos.” As soon as she saw his ravaged face, she was sorry for the question.

“I was stupid, inexperienced. And we were so much in love. When I realized what I had become, I crawled to her on my hands and knees and begged her forgiveness. I was so terribly sorry to have ruined our plans for a life together. Barbara, though, had other ideas. She pointed out that, according to all information, we could now share eternity. All I had to do was turn her, make her into a vampire too.

“I was reluctant, but she convinced me. She was so beautiful, I couldn’t bear the notion that she would eventually age and die while I’d live forever.

“We planned the ritual carefully, almost as if it were our wedding ceremony...”

“The photos–” Lara interrupted.

“Right.” Jim laughed bitterly. “I set up the camera to record it all. The initiation of my beloved into the realm of the undead. But it all went terribly wrong.” He choked back a sob. Lara felt a sympathetic lump in her throat.

“What happened?”

“Everybody knows how you make a new vampire. First you drain the victim’s blood, bringing her close to death. Then you allow her to drink your blood. That’s what we planned. That’s what we did. It was incredible, terrifying and ecstatic.”


“But she died. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t turn her. Since then I’ve learned the truth.”

Lara was silent, waiting.

“To create a new vampire, you must suck the victim’s blood while you’re physically connected. While you’re having sex.”

“You’re joking!”

“No, it’s no joke. That’s why I ended up this way. That girl at the party—all she really wanted was my blood. But one thing led to another, and eventually we were fucking. I don’t think she really understood either.”

No wonder his little demonstration had produced such an intense effect. For him, blood lust and sexual desire were inextricably entwined. The instinctive drive to reproduce, to bring more souls over the boundary of death into the shadowy world that he inhabited, this was something he could not deny, and could only imperfectly control.

Lara knew she should be frightened. She should get out his seductive presence before she made a final, incorrigible mistake. The risk, the pure reality of it, only made her want him more.

He was watching her. She could feel his eyes on her lips, on her throat, on the rise and fall of her breasts as her breath quickened.

She glanced around the bar, filling up now that it was after five. Donnie’s was not known as a “blood” bar, but still, she noticed half a dozen men wearing capes and pale make up, plus two or three women in slinky black dresses and wigs. It was pathetic, the way they all craved a fleeting taste of inhuman power, a brush with immortality. And here she sat, thigh to thigh with the genuine article.

“I don’t fully understand it,” Jim said, obviously catching her thoughts once again. “Why would they want to be me? Power’s nice, but overall, I live a pretty lonely and miserable existence.”

“Maybe—maybe I can make you feel less lonely. For a little while.” Lara cradled his cheek for an instant, then pulled his mouth to hers. His lips were soft as any flesh, warm and muscular as they met and molded to her own lips. She tasted the wine he had been drinking, with background flavors of iron and salt. His tongue, too, felt human, jousting against hers, exploring, questioning.

Her rigid nipples pressed rudely through the stretchy fabric of her top, pleading for his attention. Of course he knew what she wanted. Without breaking the kiss, he cupped both breasts, tracing symmetrical circles around the tips. Her pussy clenched. Her thighs opened involuntarily. She rocked back and forth on the bench, rubbing her clit against the hard wood.

“Please,” she moaned against his open mouth, and then was silent, realizing that she did not have to say anything. He broke the kiss to throw a twenty pound note on the table, then pulled her to his chest.

“Imagine your apartment,” he said, close to her ear. “Think about your bedroom. And hold on tight.”

Saturday, December 22, 2012

It’s the End of the World and We Know It. And I Feel Fine...sorta.

By Jean Viola Ryan (Guest Blogger)

A tiny part of me is always disappointed when they predict the world is going to end and it doesn’t. It’s not that I want to die or I hate the world. It’s more that I’m curious what comes next.

The rest of me is super duper uber happy the world is continuing. After all my debut novel, The Mark of Abel, released yesterday. I’m pretty sure that no matter whatever comes next, book sales require the world to still exist.

No one is more glad the world is continuing than my villains, the Grigori, also known as the Watchers in The Book of Genesis. I’ve taken these fallen angels and put a unique spin on them. They convinced Cain to murder Abel so they could drink his blood, thus gaining free will and becoming vampires.

As if getting kicked out of heaven isn’t bad enough, God tells the Grigori after the Day of Judgement, they will be tormented for the rest of eternity. This appears in the Book of Enoch, one of my inspirations.

The Grigori will do anything, and I mean anything, to prevent the end of the world. That doesn’t sound so evil. In the sequel I’m working on, The Chalice of Creation, they are willing to destroy all of humanity in order to prevent the events of The Book of Revelations from unfolding. If they have the chalice, they won’t need humans for food and can destroy them. In The Mark of Abel, their goal is to prevent Lucifer from returning to heaven.

I love playing with old source material, like the Book of Enoch and the Book of Revelations. The flow of the language and interpreting the metaphors are great inspiration. The Mayan end of the world is a bit of a disappointment. There aren’t any great symbols to play with. I love things like Nostradamous’ quatrains.

Even modern doomsday preachers, like Jack Van Impe, are guilty pleasures. On Jack Van Impe Presents, he artfully weaves Biblical verses with current events to show the world is about to end any minute now. It’s been just about to end ever since I started watching him back when Y2K was going to destroy the world. I love how unapologetic he is. He never admits he was wrong and when the world doesn’t end as predicted, he simply continues that the world is about to end without pausing for breath.

But as usual, he was wrong once again. The world didn’t end. No massive meteor crashed into the earth. The poles didn’t reverse. The earth didn’t explode. Nope. We’re all still here. The Grigori are thrilled. Are you? What are you looking forward to this upcoming year? Why are you glad the world didn’t end yesterday?


Lucifer is fed up with humanity. He created hell to deter evil, but man’s inhumanity is only escalating. He just wants to return home to heaven, but ever since that little problem in the Garden of Eden, the Pearly Gates remain firmly shut to him. It doesn’t help that he’s the first vampire, an abomination in God’s sight.

Fortunately, two thousand years ago Lucifer’s estranged brother, Jesus, gave him a prophecy. To fulfill it, all Lucifer has to do is find the right artist, study her artwork and the path back to heaven will be revealed. The artist even bears a symbol so he knows who she is. Too bad she is murdered every time he finds her.

Janie’s a frustrated artist and college art teacher who wants two things—a guy she can show her paintings to and a night without nightmares. Each nightmare plagues her until she paints it. She doesn’t realize these paintings are key to unlocking her destiny, one that could redeem the original fallen angel.

“Where’s Eve?” Lucifer shouted. The columns shook, but remained standing. He balled his fists until talons pierced his palms and blood ran down his hands.
With Adam in Sumeria.” God warmed his hands by the fire.
“What will happen to Eve?” Quiet resignation filled his words, though his thoughts were spinning a mile a minute.
You don’t care what happens to Adam. They both ate the fruit.” God shook his head and turned around. “They suffer for their disobedience.”
Eve’s scream squeezed around Lucifer’s heart, making it stop. He covered his ears and shut his eyes. In the dark, she collapsed. He leaped up.
“Punish me.” He could better withstand God’s wrath than Eve. He promised her he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her, including God. Maybe especially God.
They expect to be punished. If they are not, they will not learn anything.” With a wave, the pedestals righted.
“You lied.” Lucifer stood in God’s face. “The fruit did not kill them.”
That isn’t what I told them. I said if they ate the fruit, they would die. I did not say when.” God placed his hand on Lucifer’s shoulder. “I told them what they were ready for, just like heaven is being made in an image they can understand.”
“Adam gets that big palace.” It was an accusation more than a statement. “I named the angels. Heaven should be mine. I am a far more benevolent master.”
God’s laughter made Lucifer’s talons grow longer. The edges of the world turned red.
The palace is for me. They expect their creator to be exalted.”
“What will happen to Eve?” Lucifer could still help her, somehow circumvent God’s punishment or at least mitigate it. He would find a way to take it for her.
They have been expelled from Eden. By the sweat of Adam’s brow shall he get bread to eat. In pain shall Eve bring forth children.”
Eve in pain? He didn’t know what was worse. Eve in pain, or having Adam’s children.
“So because they expect it, Eve must suffer. That is wrong.” The words were directed at himself as much as they were to God. If only he had left Eve alone.
“Wrong.” Another power word, one that tasted similar to justice.
That is not for you to determine.” God’s eyes swirled gold, and a pulsing white aura surrounded him.
Lucifer recoiled and shielded his eyes.
Not for him to determine? That’s exactly what he’d done. He turned his back on God and scratched his head. Wrong. Justice. These were words that made no sense yesterday. Now they were power words.
Justice. Friend. Wrong. Strong words demanding strong action, even if that action was against God.
He froze. Against God. Abba. His heavenly father. A voice inside him cried. A louder voice spurred him on. He was the only one who could protect Eve. His heart beat strong and steady. At his feet the Sword of Justice glinted in the firelight.
Keeping Eve in Eden was definitely an act of justice.
In one smooth motion, he kicked up the sword, grabbed it, raised it above his head, and plunged it through God’s back into his heart. He twisted the sword, and God slid down into a crumpled heap at Lucifer’s feet.
“Now it is.” Lucifer held the sword above his head. It didn’t ignite. Who cared? Justice had been served. Little did God know the sword he’d created would be his death.
Eve appeared next to Lucifer. He couldn’t contain his joy. Now they would fashion the universe how they wanted.
She touched the sword with one delicate finger. Blue flame consumed the hilt, and he dropped it. Before it hit the ground, it disappeared.
You are not ready for this.” Eve/God’s thoughts held a tinge of disappointment.
Lucifer appeared outside of heaven. A high wall of the same gleaming material as the palace formed around heaven. Eve appeared behind an open gate. Its gleaming bars stretched up and down into infinity until up became down and down became up. It swung shut.
He raced for it, but was too late. The clang echoed in his soul, and he collapsed to his knees.
You are no longer an angel. You don’t belong in heaven. You must find your way home.” God turned away.
“What am I?” Lucifer rose and sent a burst of energy at the gate. It remained shut.
“Am I human?” His soul bled at the question and darkness surrounded him. As a human he had nothing to offer Eve. He couldn’t protect her. He couldn’t create another Eden for her. She would beget Adam’s children in pain. Lucifer cringed.
Eve/God appeared next to him and traced three triangles above his heart, each attached to the other two at the corners of its base to form a fourth triangle in the center. They burned, and he screamed until his voice was raw. He collapsed and gulped fire.
Standing above him, God laid her hand on his shoulders. Pain shot down his back. He reached around, and his hands passed through wings of fire. God ran her hand along his arms. His skin itched, and then burned, as it morphed into swirling red, orange and yellow. With sweat pouring down his face, he allowed God to help him up.
Your re-creation occurred in fire. This is now your true form. To maintain your angelic powers, you must feed on the intense energy of fire.” A ball of fire appeared on God’s outstretched hand. She shoved this into his heart.
A sharp pain stole his breath, but Lucifer refused to collapse again. He grit his teeth, and his entire body shook.
“What am I?” He stared at his arms.
To maintain free will, you must drink the blood of humanity every three generations.”
God vanished.
“What am I?” he shouted toward the center of heaven.
A vampire.”
The Mark of Abel available for pre-order at 20% off

Releases Dec 21, 2012


A very good friend of Viola Ryan in high school said, “You don’t think outside the box. You blow the thing up.” Sometimes boxes need exploding. That’s why she’s here. She has a whole bag of C4 and isn’t afraid to use it. She’s blessed with people who treasure her eccentricities or at least put up with them.

Sometimes the box can be a cozy place. Without some sort of stability, her two daughters’ and her life would be unmanageable. That stability comes from her husband. He’s the rock holding her family together.

On the flip side, his career is anything but stable. He’s a Chief Marine Safety Technician in the US Coast Guard. They’ve lived from Kittery, Maine to Yorktown, Virginia. Fortunately, the moves have all been on the east coast. Then again, the Coast Guard tends to guard the coast.

Her oldest daughter (15) was born on Cape Cod, not far from Plymouth. Massachusetts. Her youngest (12) was born in Yorktown, Virginia, down the road from Williamsburg. Viola jokes they’re doing the colonial America tour.

Friday, December 21, 2012

Five Kinks!


Just wanted to share the good news that Coming Together With a Twist received a fabulous review from Kinky Book Reviews - five out of five kinks and their highest recommendation. You can read the review here:

This diverse collection of BDSM erotica and erotic romance is a charity effort that benefit research and treatment of pancreatic cancer. It includes my story "Detente" as well as lots of other fabulous D/s fiction.

You can get your own copy from All Romance Ebooks (buying from ARE gives more money to the charity) or your (other) favorite online bookseller.

And while we're talking about charity anthologies - Coming Together In Vein should be out by next week. Watch this space!

Thursday, December 20, 2012

Lisabet's December News

Sexy Santa

New and Upcoming Releases

I've been busy this past month, writing, blogging, and doing lots of giveaways. And it looks like next month is going to be even busier.
             Business Cover
In early December, Books We Love, Ltd. brought out my BDSM romantic erotica novel, Nasty Business, in all your favorite ebook formats. This edited and expanded edition of Ruby's Rules includes a bonus short story about how Ruby first got a taste for dominance. If you've never read this book - believe me, it's scalding! Don't believe me? Check out a brand new M/f excerpt here. Or, if you're a fan of F/m, try this one... I'm giving away a copy to one lucky reader in my monthly contest. See the details below.

The Switch anthology received a five star review from Whipped Cream, and was nominated for Book of the Month in November. And I forgot to mention in my last newsletter that Spank Me Again, Stranger was up for Best Book in October. Read the five star review here!

I've finished the editing for Coming Together: In Vein, my charity vampire anthology. It should be out any day now. If you have any vampire-lovers on your holiday gift list, this book may be the perfect solution. The book has something for everyone: GLBT, BDSM, science fiction, ménage and blood-tinted sexy romance. And of course, every copy you buy goes to support the essential work of Doctors Without Borders.

Rainbow Award

And last - but certainly not least - I'm still celebrating the fact that Quarantine received an Honorable Mention for Best Gay SciFi/Fantasy in the prestigious Rainbow Awards. Yes, I know that if you're on my mailing list, this is old news. Bear with me, okay?
Other News

Just for you this holiday season, I've written a brand new M/M story entitled Last Minute Gift. Scott is royally annoyed by the fact that he has to work on Christmas Eve. However, the lone customer who visits the store where Scott clerks definitely changes his perspective.

You can find other free holiday reading on my site, too. Easy is a sweet and sexy tale that captures the spirit of Christmas. A Kiss at Midnight celebrates the magic of New Year's Eve. And for some New Year's humor, sample Snow Bound

If you haven't yet received your free PDF of my M/M/F ménage story Something Borrowed - all you have to do is ask! Send me email at contest - at - with the subject line "Free Story", from the email where you want the PDF sent.

From January 10th through the 13th, my fellow author Jennifer Wright and I will be hosting the "Something New, Something Naughty" blog hop. Every single author who participates will have a prize for you, plus Jen and I are giving away a $50 gift certificate to adult emporium EdenFantasys and several bookstore gift certificates. For more information - and for instructions on how you can participate, if you're an author - just click here!

Congratulations to Mel and Tammy, the first and second prize winners of my November "Gratitude" contest. It's always worthwhile to count our blessings.

For my December contest, I'm giving away an ebook copy of Nasty Business. All you need to do is 1) read my free story Last Minute Gift and 2) send me an email at contest -- at -- with the subject line "Last Minute Gift". In the email, tell me which of the two main characters in the story you liked the most, and why. I'll draw a winner some time in mid January.
Lisabet's Pick of the Month

My pick of the month for December is Kayelle Allen's web site. Check out her tour of the Tarthian Empire, the world where many of her books are set. Grab some of her wallpaper images, featuring her breath-taking heroes and heroines. Sample her free reads, including her sweet holiday tale, "A Romance for Christmas". Kayelle promises Unstoppable Heroes, Uncompromising Love, Unforgettable passion.

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

What's in a Name?

By Tim Smith (Guest Blogger)

Once upon a time I had an idea for a romantic adventure story. I had a ripped-from-the-headlines plot and the ideal hero, a former CIA spook that walked away from the spy biz to live in Key Largo, Florida. He would be cool, tough and sexy, (something most of us aren’t), and would get involved in cool, tough, sexy adventures (something most of us can’t do). There was only one little problem – what should I call him? I had his first name picked out but needed a surname that was unique and wouldn’t conjure up a preconceived image. That eliminated names like Callahan, Savalas, Columbo, Rambo and Bond. I christened him Nick Seven and his first couple of adventures became best sellers and critical hits.

Then I conceived another series featuring a leading man who was light years removed from this character. I named him Vic Fallon and he’s a former police detective in northern Ohio who was discharged for using unnecessary force. He’s now a private investigator, but with a twist. He doesn’t really have to work and only takes jobs when he’s bored or something intrigues him. He’s also the only recurring character, leaving him free to romance a different woman in each story.

Now comes the hard part. How do I keep these two characters straight when I’m writing about them? There are some similarities but I want each to have their own personality. I recalled that when Mickey Spillane wrote about someone other than Mike Hammer, the names might have been different but they were basically the same person. I didn’t want to stumble over that rabbit hole.

Nick Seven is a rather dark character, due to some past experiences when he worked around the globe as a spy. He’s damaged goods and that usually comes into play in each adventure. He lives with a Barbadian beauty named Felicia, who is a former co-worker. All they want to do is live anonymously in The Keys but their former employer has different ideas and each story has a topical theme. Here’s an example from my newest release, Never Look Back:

* * * *

The last bit of moonlight over Key Largo slowly faded with the arrival of daybreak. The emerging sun was quickly overshadowed by dark clouds rolling in, accompanied by thunder that rumbled over the Gulf of Mexico. Soon the inevitable rain began, pelting the ground with an instant cloudburst, washing away the grime and guilt of the previous night.

Nick Seven watched from the kitchen of his condo that overlooked the Atlantic. He leisurely puffed a cigarette between sips of coffee while his mind wandered, dredging up things from the long ago past.

Pre-dawn has to be the loneliest time of night. It’s worse than midnight, when all the animals come out to play. That’s when you face the ghosts, the bad memories that won’t leave you alone, the ones you can’t exorcise from your soul. Those ghosts are always needy and desperate, like a lot of people. Things happen to average people when they’re desperate. It drives them to do things they’d never think of doing when they’re rational.

Those are the people you watch out for.

* * * *

Vic Fallon, on the other hand, is a throwback to the pulp fiction characters of Chandler, Hammett and Westlake, but in a contemporary setting. Vic is a tough wise-ass who always finds himself in unwanted situations, and his cases can take him anywhere. The women he meets are straight out of an old B movie where the hero takes one on the chin in the name of love. This is the opening from his latest adventure, Lido Key:

* * * * 

I had the craziest damn dream. I was standing on a cloud of white satin while angels strummed their golden harps all around me. I swear one of them looked like Taylor Swift. Then this guy showed up, dressed in a double-breasted blue pinstripe suit and a gray fedora. Looked like he stepped out of an old Bogart movie. No, wait, it wasn’t Bogart, it was Robert Mitchum. Yeah, that’s it. Mitchum handed Taylor a bottle of cheap whiskey and she poured a healthy slug into a tumbler. She smiled when she handed it to me, you know, one of those smiles that tells you everything’s okay even though your gut tells you it isn’t. I drank it down in one swallow then felt lightheaded so I curled up on that satin cloud and fell asleep. Probably shouldn’t have eaten sushi for dinner last night.

Vic Fallon slowly awoke from a deep slumber and looked through one drowsy eye at the clock radio. 8:30. I never sleep this late. Must’ve been more tired than I realized. He stretched his arms and yawned. I never sleep this well in a strange bed the first night away from home, either. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, blinked a few times to wake up then looked around. His brow furrowed. This isn’t where I fell asleep last night.

* * * *

When I come up with a story idea I have to decide which series it would best fit. If it’s drawn from current events, it would probably work as a Nick Seven spy adventure. If it’s something quirkier I’ll develop it into a Vic Fallon crime caper. The online consequences of sexting inspired Lido Key, and the Wiki-leaks affair served as the jumping off point for Never Look Back.

Someone proposed a wild idea to me recently. They suggested that I put both characters in the same story. Hmm, Nick versus Vic. What a concept! I could also throw in some supporting characters named Rick, Mick and Dick to really confuse things. 

Never Look Back - Buy here!
Lido Key - Buy here!


Tim Smith is an award-winning, bestselling author whose books range from romantic mystery/thrillers to contemporary erotic romance. His website is

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Sunday Snog - The Morning After

I've got a sweet snog for you this Sunday from my holiday M/M paranormal, Necessary Madness. Well, maybe not 100% sweet, but compared to my usual excerpts, it is!

After you've enjoyed Rob's and Kyle's kiss, head over to Victoria Blisse's hangout, for lots more Sunday smooches.

Good morning, baby.” Rob’s husky voice interrupted Kyle’s musings. “You’re up early.” The cop stepped between Kyle’s splayed thighs and pulled Kyle into a fierce kiss. One hand dropped down to stroke Kyle’s rapidly hardening penis. 
Kyle relaxed into Rob’s embrace. Rob’s tongue invaded his mouth, demanding a submission that Kyle was eager to give. Meanwhile, his host’s fingers danced up and down his rigid shaft, sending bolts of pleasure racing up Kyle’s spine. The tightness in his balls told him he’d spurt in moments if Rob continued his massage. He wasn’t sure whether he was glad or sorry when the cop released him.

Coffee smells great. But I’m so hungry I could eat a horse. Why don’t we get dressed? We’ll hit the Boulevard Diner before I go to work.”
Kyle reached for Rob’s half-hard dick. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go back to bed?”

Ah, Kyle…” Rob favoured him with an affectionate grin. “Of course I would. But, unfortunately, the force doesn’t give me time off to butt-fuck gorgeous young men.”

Kyle’s sphincter clenched. Ripples of pain turned to aching pleasure by the time they reached his cock. He rubbed his thumb over the bulb of Rob’s cock, then slid two fingers down the length. The rod jerked and swelled in his hand. “Seems like we need to take a shower first, don’t you think?” He squeezed. Rob gasped. “You might get some people upset if you come in to work smelling like cum.”

True. I suppose that we do have time for a quick shower.” Rob didn’t resist as Kyle led him by his cock toward the bathroom.


After they had consumed more coffee, and unhealthy quantities of bacon, eggs, and home fries, Rob dropped Kyle back at the apartment. He leant across the gear shift to offer a solid kiss. Kyle relished the tang of the Tabasco in which Rob drowned his over-easies.

I’ll be home in the early afternoon,” Rob said, finally breaking the clinch. “And I don’t want you going anywhere, do you understand?”

What about lunch?”

We’ll eat when I get back.”

I’ll have a cock sandwich, then,” Kyle teased.

Please, have some mercy. My cock is practically hard-boiled from that last shower.”

Well, as long as it’s hard…”

You little wretch! Behave yourself. I’m late already.”

Okay, okay. I know when I’m not wanted.”

You’re wanted, boy. I would think you’d understand that by now.” This kiss was gentle, wistful, with an underlying reluctance. Kyle sensed Rob fighting against himself. The cop still couldn’t completely accept his tender feelings. 


By the way, I never heard from my winner from last week's snog, so I've drawn a new name. Congratulations to Laurel! I'll be contacting you to send you your autographed copy of Quarantine!