Crutches and Ring Splints? What's That Got to Do with Romance?

By Tempeste O'Riley (Guest Blogger)

Good Morning, everyone. I’m thrilled to be here at Lisabet’s blog. Today I’m going to talk a little about the ring splints you see on the books cover and the crutches from the blurb (see below, :c) ). You see, my knowledge of EDS, the genetic disorder James has, is not just from internet research. Nor is my knowledge of forearm crutch. I too have EDS, use crutches to walk, and honestly should have the splints on a couple of fingers—similar to what you see on the cover. Did I mention how much I love the cover Reese Dante created for my guys?

Anyway, the point is that I know what it’s like to be seen for your assistive aids instead of for whom you are and that is one of James’s biggest problems. He hates that people see his “sticks” instead of him. He’s given up on finding his prince and on love for himself in general.

Seth Burns however is not a man that cares about such trivialities. If he sees something in you he likes, then that’s it. Period. The catch is convincing James that he’s serious and that he’ll not turn into another monster... like his previous partners have.

So what do ring splints and forearm crutches have to do with romance? Everything! We all have hurts and fears, James’s are just a little more noticeable than most. Besides, why can’t this physically challenged but wonderful man get his HEA? In Designs of Desire you get to travel along with James as he learns that his disabilities are not what define him... his heart is.

I hope I’ve interested you in my first story with Dreamspinner Press. James and Seth can’t wait to share their story with you (warning, they love the readers to visit their bedroom too, lol)!

Designs of Desire  
by Tempeste O’Riley

M/M Erotic BDSM/Kink Contemporary Romance

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Release Date: July 29th 2013

Length: Novel / 200 pages

Order:

♥ Dreamspinner Press ♥ Rainbow eBooks ♥ All Romance ♥ Amazon ♥ B & N ♥

Add to: Goodreads

Blurb

Artist James Bryant has forearm crutches in every color from rainbow for fun to sleek black for business. He even has a pair with more paint splatters than metal. After his family’s rejection and abuse from a man he thought loved him, James only just gets through the day by painting. He lives in constant fear that he’s not worthy of anything, let alone love.

As CEO of his company, Carrington Enterprises, Seth Burns is a take-charge kind of guy, and he is instantly smitten by the artist helping with his newest project. When he witnesses James suffer a panic attack, a protective instinct he never knew he had kicks in. He truly believes nothing is unobtainable—including James—if he’s willing to put in the time and effort.

James is shy and confused by Seth’s interest in him as a person. With Seth’s support, can he work through his fears to finally find the true love he deserves, or will someone finally land the crushing blow he won’t survive?

Excerpt

James gestured to the chair across the conference table and hoped Seth would sit. He hated to be stood over. Seth smiled and settled into the chair indicated. “Now, what can I do for you, sir?”

“We, Carrington Enterprises, are beginning a new venture and hope you can help with designs. Companies I can manage; design and draw, not so much.”

James nodded at Seth’s pause.

“Let me start by explaining the project you will brand. We’re opening a new hotel chain. This will be a little different than your usual hotel, though. Each site will be more like a large bed and breakfast, but they will cater to the GLBT community. It’s often an issue when a couple wants to vacation. They have to consider the area, the hotel, the other patrons even if they want to do something as simple as hold hands. That is, if they don’t want to be met with hate or possible violence.”

James wasn’t sure which impressed him more, the wonderful idea behind the hotel or the deep, commanding voice that instilled confidence in everything he said.

Obviously unaware of James’s internal dialog, Seth continued his spiel. “With our liberal policies and views, we have decided to make a place where judgment doesn’t exist. At least, that’s the theory.”

God, that voice! He shivered.

“Also, each site will have a club, bar, or restaurant attached. So, this will be an ongoing project, not a one-shot deal.” When finished with his little speech, Seth seemed inordinately pleased with the idea.

No wonder Brian gave me the account. He didn’t realize he had spoken aloud until Seth glowered at him.

“Excuse me?” Seth snapped. “I was assured you have no personal issues or biases that might hinder your ability to provide the needed work. Was I incorrectly informed?”

“No. No, sir. I apologize for my comment. It was out of line,” James said in a rush, trying to smooth over the obvious irritation his thoughtless words had caused.

“Are you able to do the branding or should I continue elsewhere?” Seth demanded.

“You misunderstand, Mr. Burns. I had wondered why I was given your account, considering I’m not one of the senior designers and your account would normally be reserved for one of them. Now that I hear what the project is, I understand why I was chosen.” He knew he was babbling but he couldn’t help it. “You see, I’m the only openly gay designer here and my family runs a small bed and breakfast. This project is perfect. In fact, once we have the branding set up, I’m sure I can point you in the right direction for some specialized marketing. Magazines, newspapers, websites, etcetera. We will help you with all of that, as well.” James tried to restrain the extent of his excitement over the project, but was unsure how successful he was. He didn’t want to seem flippant or inexperienced after admitting he was a junior designer with Skye Designs.

Seth raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Excited, are we? Carl said you were the man for the job. I guess he was right if enthusiasm counts. I have a full write-up of what we need and what we do and do not want to incorporate into the brand.” His smile fell and he became all business again. “This is an upscale getaway, not a high-priced bathhouse.”

“Understood, sir. I think the idea will work in areas with a large enough population of GLBT and open-minded people.” His hands itched to begin sketching and planning.

“Good. Once you’ve read over everything and start your designing, I want you to visit the site we chose for the first hotel. It’s here in Milwaukee, so it shouldn’t be too far for you. Would you be ready by Friday?” At James’s accord, Seth opened his briefcase and began pulling out folders and large manila envelopes and setting them in front of James. He paused, peered up at James, and blinked hard. “I should call someone to carry these things for you,” he mumbled, glancing at the items and toward James’s crutches. “You can’t fit all this in your bag.”

James pinched the bridge of his nose while counting to ten in his head. Why do they always see the sticks instead of me? “Mr. Burns.”

“Seth, please,” he interrupted, giving James a soft smile.

“Seth, Chase acts as my assistant when needed. He will tend to anything I can’t transfer up to my office personally. There is no need to be concerned.”

A strange look flashed across Seth’s face, but his expression quickly returned to his previous in-command smile. “Very good then.”

They chatted a bit about ideas and plans before Seth shifted his coat sleeve back to check his watch. With a slight frown, he said, “Well, I need to head back to the office. I will leave this all in your fine hands, James. Please call me here.” He pulled out his business card and wrote something on the back. “I look forward to our next meeting.”

Seth held out his hand. James flexed his fingers and clasped the offering. He knew this was for work, but somehow it felt different this time. Warm and strong, the grip shot tingles up his arm. Seth seemed to hold on a little longer than necessary for business needs. It had been so long since a man touched him, at least without violence or pain. James shook off the thought he might be interested. Beautiful men like Seth didn’t waste their time on guys like him. Besides, he wasn’t certain he wanted to go down such a painful road again.

James stood in the doorway, watching Seth saunter out the main doors, wishing for something, though not really sure what.

****

Tempeste is giving away several copies of Designs of Desire as part of her promo tour. Just use the Rafflecopter link below to enter.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

About the Author:

Tempeste O’Riley is an out and proud omnisexual / bi-woman whose best friend growing up had the courage to do what she couldn’t–defy the hate and come out. He has been her hero ever since.

Tempe is a hopeless romantic that loves strong relationships and happily-ever-afters. Though new to writing M/M, she has done many things in her life, though writing has always drawn her back–no matter what else life has thrown her way. She counts her friends, family, and Muse as her greatest blessings in life. She lives in Wisconsin with her children, reading, writing, and enjoying life.

Tempe is also a proud member of Romance Writers of America® and Rainbow Romance Writers. Learn more about Tempeste and her writing at http://tempesteoriley.com.

Website ♥ Goodreads ♥ Twitter ♥ Facebook ♥ Google + ♥ DSP ♥ Blog

A Few Lines from ... Kathy Fischer-Brown

A Few Lines from Winter Fire by Kathy Fischer-Brown

"Get back!" he shouted. "The ice won't hold you!"

She whirled around in alarm.

And in that split second, he saw her eyes. Those startled doe's eyes. Zara Grey!

In the next instant, a crack—like a musket shot—echoed through the ravine. She reeled as the ice heaved up beneath her amid an angry surge of black water. And then, her face frozen in a look of surprise, her mouth open in a semblance of a silent scream, she disappeared through the widening breach.

His gaze fixed on the roiling chasm, Ethan hurled himself down the slope. She surfaced—flailing arms and legs, and gasping desperately for air—churning up the black water into an icy froth. She grasped at the splinters of ice.

"Keep your head up!"

Racing along the bank, he ripped off his deerskin jacket and hurled it, along with his rifle and belt into the snow. If she went under again, she'd be trapped. Already the current had taken her, sweeping her like a bobbing cork toward the opposite bank where the ice was thicker.

"Keep your head up!"

But the frenzied movement of her arms had slowed. She gasped at the water along with the air. She could barely keep herself afloat. As if she had made a conscious choice to surrender herself to a stronger power, he saw the spirit drain out of her. An eerie calm settled over her eyes as her gaze met his, then she slipped under again without a struggle.

Without stopping to think, Ethan tore off his shirt and moccasins, and dove through the opening.

Buy from Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Winter-Fire-ebook/dp/B004BA5GMM
Visit Kathy’s website: http://www.kfischer-brown.com

Stop back next week for A Few Lines from…Angel de' Amor

Keep 'Em Guessing!

A couple of days ago I got a fabulous review for Rajasthani Moon from Thistledown at Long and Short Reviews.

http://www.longandshortreviews.com/book-reviews/rajasthani-moon-by-lisabet-sarai/

Of course I was delighted that she liked the book. But what really pleased me is the fact that my multi-genre story really kept her guessing:

"This book really took me far and wide. At first you have a kidnapping fantasy with rip roaring sex that honestly left me breathless. Then you have a ménage with kinky toys that made me crunch ice. ( A lot). Then you add a paranormal twist and I couldn’t decide what I enjoyed more. It all worked. Every part of it."

This was exactly what I was trying to achieve in writing Rajasthani Moon.  The biggest problem with writing romance, in my opinion, is the predictability. Of course the reader knows the story will end happily. Plus there are so many sub-genres in romance, each one with its own conventions. When readers encounter the distinctive signals for one of these sub-genres, they remember other tales in the same category and think they already know how things will turn out.

I hate that! What's the fun of reading if there are no surprises, no suspense? I understand that when readers encounter a genre they enjoy, they want more of the same - but hopefully not exactly the same!

It's my goal to make readers sit up and think, "Wow, that's different!"  I could write cookie-cutter stories in any of the genres where I work, but I really don't want to do that. Whenever I sit down to write for a specific call for submissions, my first thought is, How can I twist this to make it original and surprising?

For instance, in my latest release, Challenge to Him, the call asked for M/F BDSM stories in which the hero is a billionaire and the couple ends up married. Now I know there are more billionaires out there in the world today than ever before, but somehow they didn't interest me. Instead I decided to write a historical billionaire. My story is set in the Gilded Age, when industrialists like John D. Rockefeller, Andrew Carnegie, and Jacob Astor were making tons of money out of their factories, railroads and banks. I'd been to the Newport mansions built by these guys. If you want to see opulence...well, let's just say that no contemporary penthouse can compare, at least not in my opinion! My hero Andrew MacIntyre is a businessman born into this world of consummate luxury. His partner Olivia comes from a very different background.

I wanted my story to stand out, and I think it does.

There's a negative side to my quest for surprise and originality. Some readers get annoyed when an author breaks away from the conventions. I apologize, but those readers will have to go somewhere else. (And of course they do...) I'd probably be more popular if I stuck to tried and true formulas, but I just can't force myself to do that.

To be honest, I never know myself what I'm going to write next. So I keep myself guessing!

By the way, Challenge to Him is now available as a single title from Total-E-Bound - at a 10% discount until the general release date! Just click here.

You can read an extremely sexy excerpt here at Beyond Romance - and enter to win some great prizes!

http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2013/08/the-allure-of-extramural-lust.html

FUN-eral

By Robin Glasser (Guest Blogger)

Remember the children’s table at family events? Lately it seems as though all the adults I used to turn a green-eyed gaze upon are now dropping dead. Case in point: One of my favorite cousins, who lived in a luxurious beach house in Malibu, CA, kicked the diamond-encrusted bucket. Before her departure, she and her stunning son had recently visited Croatia. Harriet always traveled first-class and Ben was always elated to join her.

While on vacation (she didn’t need to work so life was a constant holiday), Harriet began waxing poetic about her own funeral. Did she have a premonition, perhaps? She announced she wanted a FUNeral (spelling’s the same~accent on fun) so that people attending would celebrate her life. Who knew that less than a month later her words would become true?

Her husband graciously offered me a plane ticket (economy not first-class) and I went west. The affair was held at the local yacht club where the widower docks his very big boat. People voiced their thoughts about Harriet—all spectacular of course. Afterward, everyone gathered on the club’s patio to hors d’oeuvre and drink. The sunset was glorious and the FUNeral was among the best I’ve ever attended.

I’d been thinking along these lines myself and told my closest compadres that when my time is up, I want to have a ‘gone away’ party. After all, if you get the most you can out of life—why not celebrate its end?

The following forms of entertainment below offer invaluable insights into life and death:

Departures (2008) won the 2009 Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film (Japan)

I Am (2010) directed by Tom Shadyac won the Humanitas Prize (2012)

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak won a slew of book awards

What usually coincides with death? Why cemeteries, of course. And whenever I travel, I try to visit them. In fact, I wrote a piece about a very famous one. Go to this link: http://blog.parisinsights.com/?p=12602 to answer the question: Who has the shiniest crotch in Père Lachaise? Tweet your answer to https://twitter.com/RobinGlasser1 or email me at robinglasser [at] yahoo.com.

The first three people with the right answer will win an ebook copy of MY LIFE AS A CONCUBINE— the lively account of a savvy, New York City woman, never married, not looking to be, who suddenly falls in love with a Frenchman. After several enchanting years together, Jean-Loup tells her that he must return to France. She is in a quandary—stay on the isle of Manhattan where she has work, friends and speaks the lingo or depart for Paris with the utterly adorable frog prince? There is one teensy-weensy problem—Jean-Loup hasn’t asked her to go with him. When he finally pops the question, it certainly isn’t the one she expects.

Excerpt

Saturday night I arrived promptly, dressed to resurrect roadkill. Jean-Loup ushered me into his apartment as if I'd been spun from platinum and took me on le grand tour. He had spent ten years of his life in Africa and Indonesia and had the artifacts to prove it. I "ooooohed" and "aaaahhhhed" enthusiastically. He offered me a cocktail, then another one. The liquor was flowing, along with my libido. Jean-Loup swept me up in his arms, carried me to the bedroom, and that was it.

And "it" was fan-fucking-tastic! The Frenchman didn't bother to unbutton his shirt. He just pulled the tail ends from his trousers, grabbed them with both hands and ripped the cloth in half. Buttons scattered in a bright sprinkle. Jean-Loup literally jumped out of his pants and underwear. Although slender, his body was hard-muscled and beautifully formed. Pulling me into his arms, the Frenchman kissed me deeply, expertly. When his hand reached for my zipper, I gently pushed him away.

"Go lie down. I want you to watch me."

As he walked toward the bed, I kept my eyes on his smooth, tight buns. The play of muscles beneath that creamy patch of skin was a real turn-on. Jean-Loup reclined on the quilt. Sinuously, I moved toward him, stopping just out of his reach and his erection.

"Let me tell you what I'm going to do to you, Jean-Loup."

My voice was soft—husky with sex. Slow as an escargot, I began to lower the zipper of my snug, silk dress. With a little bump and grind, I shimmied out of its black bonds. I hadn't bothered with a bra. Clad only in garter belt, stockings and stilettos, I removed the combs from my hair, tossed my head, and let the raven cloud settle about my shoulders. I stared into his eyes—their intensity scorched my body like a firebrand. It took all I had to restrain myself from jumping his bones. Instead, I released a stocking from its garters, then stepped out of my heels. Placing a foot atop his nightstand, I slowed peeled the black mesh down my leg.

Skimming the whispery strip over his body, I asked, "Like the feel of it, Jean-Loup? Imagine my lips following the same course."

As I began to wind the wisp round his pulsating prick, he grabbed me, pulling me down beside him. Our lips came together in a searing kiss. Our tongues danced a passionate pas de deux. Tearing his mouth from mine, the Frenchman captured a swollen nipple. Two pairs of hands stroked, squeezed, explored. The fierce heat of desire burned throughout my body. I couldn't wait any longer and impaled myself upon his cock.

I lost all track of time until morning when, awakened by a lion roaring in my ear (snores from my "king"), I faced reality—runny mascara. If you've been there before, you know the score. I made a hasty retreat, figuring in my befuddled and besotted mind that this had been an incredible one-night-stand.

Buy Links

Amazon

Smashwords

About Robin

Recovering copywriter, Robin Glasser has written for a variety of magazines ranging from Readers' Digest to Penthouse Letters, where she wrote a column called "The Red Hot Woman." Her poetry has been published inUpstairs at Durocand The Riverside Poetry Review. Ms. Glasser's novel, My Life as a Concubine, is based on her experiences in Paris or as she likes to call it, The City of Merde, and has been re-released from Smashwords and is available in all virtual bookstores. Robin guarantees Men at Work, her fully-illustrated book of poetry, will put twinkles in your eyes and sparkles in your pants. Don't forget to watch her fast-paced peepshows based on these tongue & cheeky poems at http://www.youtube.com/msrobinglasser. You can get a copy from robinglasser [at] yahoo [dot] com Her latest novel, The Brain Exchange, is available at Smashwords, Amazon, et al. She now reads at various venues in New York.

 

Guaranteed to put a twinkle in your eyes & sparkles in your pants

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/252000

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BOHKG8E

http://www.myspace.com/robinglasser

https://twitter.com/RobinGlasser1

http://www.authorsden.com/robinglasser 

http://www.youtube.com/msrobinglasser 

Hallelujah for my Husband!

In western culture, people rarely marry for practical reasons. I chose to wed my husband (who proposed to me only a week after we started living together) because I enjoyed his company so much - and because he wanted me to travel with him. (If you've been reading my blogs for a while, you've probably heard the story about our first date at the Burmese restaurant...) I wasn't thinking at all about whether he'd be useful, or even responsible. I just liked being with him, in and out of bed.

Turns out that I was very lucky. Not only is he smart, funny, considerate, hardworking, careful with money and loving to animals, he's a very practical housemate. He knows how to fix plumbing and wiring. He taught me how to mix concrete and spackle wallboard. And possibly the most useful skill he can offer these days (now that we've sold our house and are living in blissful dependence upon our landlord for maintenance) is his skill with computers.

I'm fortunate enough to have a 24/7 system administrator. I need it, too - we both work with computers for a living, but I have neither the patience nor the knowledge required to plan and implement a backup regime, or to setup a firewall, or to install a new operating system...

The fact that I'm here now, communicating with you, all due to him. Last week, my computer's motherboard had a meltdown. Well, not a physical meltdown, but it decided that it wanted to reboot every three or four minutes. Finally it gave up the ghost completely.

I was paralyzed. No access to my address list, or my blogs, or my WIP! And DH understood my panic. He took time off work to go buy me a new motherboard. He spent hours bent over the computer chassis, installing and testing it. He put my needs ahead of his own projects.

He got me up and running again in only three days. (Even though it felt like weeks!) What a relief!

What a saint!

Okay, so he's not a saint. He leaves the toilet seat up just like every other guy. But I'm amazed and humbled by my good fortune. I got not only a great guy - but a husband who's REALLY USEFUL!

I love you, honey. And not just because you keep my machine running.

Meet the Billionaires: Andrew MacIntyre

Welcome to my post in our Meet the Billionaires blog hop. The other authors in the Tied to the Billionaire anthology and I want to introduce you to our heroes. And of course we're giving you the chance to win some great prizes at the same time. Specifically, we'll be giving a $50 bookstore gift certificate and a six-pack from our back lists, respectively, to two lucky readers who leave comments during the blog hop.

Anyway, today I'm interviewing Andrew MacIntyre, from my story Challenge to Him. This historical tale is set in early twentieth-century America, the so-called Gilded Age, when rapid industrialization and expansion of the railroads across the land had created immense wealth for so-called “robber barons” like Andrew Carnegie, John Rockefeller, J.P. Morgan, Cornelius Vanderbilt and the like. Andrew is the son and heir of one of these monumentally successful capitalists. He's rich enough to purchase anything he wants. However, money can't buy what he craves most of all.

I'll let him explain.

LS: Good evening, Mr. MacIntyre. Or may I call you Andrew?

AM: Andrew would be fine. No reason to be formal. I get enough of that at home – my mother's a stickler for propriety.

LS: Thank you. So how would you describe yourself, Andrew?

AM: Good-looking, athletic, moderately intelligent, ridiculously wealthy and irredeemably perverse.

LS: Perverse? What do you mean?

AM: Quite simply - I like to tie women up and beat them. Nothing excites me more than the sight leather or rope biting into the soft flesh of a beautiful woman. I love hearing them moan and sigh as I whip their breasts or spank their lovely buttocks. I'm not a sadist, you understand – I'd never seriously hurt anyone – but all my sexual fantasies revolve around such forbidden actions.

LS: With your wealth, though, surely nothing is forbidden. I don't doubt you could buy the time of professionals who'd be willing to endure your bonds and your lash in order to bring your fantasies to life.

AM: I tried that, when I was studying at Yale, but it's very risky for a man in my position. If word should leak to the press about my predilections, my financial dealings and my social position would both suffer. We Americans are descended from the Puritans after all. Officially at least, we frown on anything sexual, but we particularly punish practices viewed as “deviant”.

In any case, I learned from those encounters that the physical acts of compliance are not enough to satisfy me. Those women didn't care what I did to them, as long as they got paid. That took the edge off, for me. It didn't mean anything. It was just acting. I want – no, I need – a woman who will truly surrender herself to my will. Who'll allow me to use her body however I please – indeed who craves the experience of submission. I want the real thing, not a role.

LS: I gather that there are plenty of women who'd like to play the role of Mrs. MacIntyre. Surely there must be someone among them who shares your interest in – um – less conventional sexual activities.

AM: I seriously doubt it. They're all shallow and inexperienced, mere girls really. Even if one of them harbored secret dreams of submission, she'd never dare reveal that truth to anyone. Society is even harder on women than on men. Anyway, I have to admit that I find most of the women of my own class unutterably boring. All they care for is gossip and fashion. (Sighs.) Nevertheless, I was starting to realize that eventually I'd have to yield to my mother's pressure and marry one of them.

LS: And then you met Olivia Alcott.

AM: And I thank God for that! Olivia's my perfect match – brave, intelligent, mature, and a born submissive. When I first saw her, leading the strike at my factory, I wanted to kidnap her, hold her captive, and use her in every way my obscene imagination could conjure. For one thing, I sensed that she'd love every minute as much as I would.

LS: Of course you didn't...

AM: No, of course not. I'm not a savage, much as I sometimes feel like one. No, she and I concluded a very civil arrangement... mutually satisfying for both parties, I must add.

LS: (Laughs.) I got that impression. Still, you didn't intend to marry her, did you?

AM: Honestly – that never crossed my mind. I was too busy conjuring up nasty things to do to her luscious body.

LS: But fate intervened...

AM: I suppose you could put it that way. I like to think that we would have realized eventually that we were ideal for one another. The scene at the ball simply short circuited that process.

LS: Tell me about that scene. You've made me really curious!

AM: And spoil the experience for the readers? Definitely not. If they want to know how a lowly professor's daughter came to be tied to this billionaire, they'll have to read the book!

***

If you'd like to read the Tied to the Billionaire, it's now available at all your favorite bookstores:

All Romance Ebooks
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-tiedtothebillionaire-1268589-147.html

Amazon.com
http://www.amazon.com/Tied-to-the-Billionaire-ebook/dp/B00ELMQMDM/

Amazon UK
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Tied-to-the-Billionaire-ebook/dp/B00ELMQMDM/
 

(and of course on the Total-E-Bound site itself, where you can buy any format you like and have the book sent directly to your eReader.)

Leave a comment on this post, with your email, and you'll be entered into the blog hop drawing. Be sure to visit the other authors, too, so you can meet their billionaires!

Amy Armstrong - Friday August 16th
http://amysscribblings.blogspot.com/2013/08/meet-billionaires-charles-hunt-comment.html

Sam Crescent - Friday August 16th
http://samcrescent.wordpress.com/2013/08/14/meet-the-billionaires-simon-allen/

Tanith Davenport - Friday August 16th
http://tanithdavenport.com/?p=726

Cheryl Dragon - Friday August 16th
http://cheryldragon.blogspot.com/2013/08/tied-to-billionairemeet-jason-abbot.html
 
Willa Edwards - Friday August 16th
http://www.willaedwards.com/2/post/2013/08/meet-the-billionaires-blog-hop.html

A Love So Close You Can Feel It

By Clare Dargin (Guest Blogger)

There's something about a hot guy in uniform who's touchable but at the same time out of reach. That kind of man was on my mind when I wrote Colonel Medoro Keegan in Cold Warriors. A man who has chosen to be an island onto himself, he is in a sea of humanity yet is alone.

Keegan is unlike some heroes of this sort, who have no friends and live on the fringes of society. He has two very good friends whom he trusts. He is respected by his colleagues and is considered to be on the career fast track but on the inside, he feels like a hamster on a wheel. He's going through the motions but he ain't going anywhere.

All that changes when Caitlin Driskoll enters his life. In the beginning just a 'passenger' in a cargo manifest, she is but one of many who are to be sent out as cannon fodder for a military with dwindling numbers. In a frozen stasis for nearly a hundred years, because of a long gone medical fad, she awakens to find she has been recruited to fight in a war she knows nothing about.

From day one, her strength and her annoyance has been one the light that shone in an other wise darkened existence. Attracted to her, he fights between the rules of his job and society which says they can't speak much less touch, they both struggle to not only survive but to explore the attraction they feel for each other.

In the second book, Ice and Peace:

A new threat? After a long and vicious war, peace is on the horizon for Earth and its allies. However, a series of mysterious attacks on several secret military installations causes hostilities to rise once again.

Redemption. Having left under a cloud of disgrace, retired Marine Colonel Medoro Keegan is called back to duty.

Bound. His wife Caitlin, the only surviving member of her team, chooses to embrace life, albeit grudgingly, as a cryo soldier. Seen as sub-human, she is forced to serve a planet that denies her rights as a person.

Driven. Guided by their sense of duty and belief that some things are bigger than them, they are determined to risk it all.

Hope. The cost of war is high. Can their love and marriage survive? Or will it be killed off by the very same mission that brought them together?

Excerpt from Ice and Peace

“Sir,” a soft voice, feminine and sweet, beckoned his attention. He knew the voice, like he knew himself. His heart skipped a beat.

Rising slowly from his chair, Keegan cleared his throat and straightened his uniform. Suddenly, the room seemed unbearably long as he walked the three feet or so to be near her.

As he took in every detail of her, he was stunned silent. She wore a Marine Corps uniform with Navy insignia, with her hair neatly pinned off her neck and shoulders. Her clothes were pressed with a crease that could cut a major artery and her demeanor was impeccable. Something was not right.

Still, Caitlin was a sight for sore eyes. She was beautiful. Her petite frame was perfectly accented by the curves of her figure. And her brown eyes and coffee-brown skin was smooth, creamy.

Standing at attention, she did not meet his gaze. Though it was customary not to do as a sign of military courtesy, he could tell she was not doing it for that reason. Her gaze was different. Circling her, he tried to see if he could catch her watching him out of the corner of her eye. In fact, she appeared to be staring blankly ahead.

Peering directly at her, he spoke in a soft tone. “At ease.”

She relaxed.

“Cate. Can you hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” she responded mechanically.

Pain pierced his insides. She was definitely not there. Keegan placed his hands on his hips

and hung his head in defeat. The one thing that was supposed to go right did not. For whatever reason, they had placed her in a deeper state of mental control than she’d ever been in. He controlled the hostile emotions brewing with him. Touching her face gently, he felt her icy skin.

This is unacceptable! Not here. I will not let this happen here. Not under my command.

“Chief, listen up,” he said in an authoritative tone. He knew in this state, it was the only way he could speak to her and still have her respond.

“Yes, sir.” Her gaze became even more distant.

Her response fueled his anger. “You are going to hightail it down to the doc and receive a full examination. Tell him it is based on my orders. He will know what to do. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

Knowing that she was under the influence of cryo neurotransmitters, Keegan figured the only way to combat it was to get someone to reverse it. They usually wore off once she was away from the stimulus triggers for a long period of time. But considering her stimulus triggers were high-ranking officers in uniform and combat situations, being around here meant she was going to be in a drone zone for a very long time. The last thing he needed was a zombie on board, especially one in charge of the lives others.

Only the jerks in psyche warfare thought doing this to someone would be a good idea. As long as he was running the ship, none of that would be allowed. There weren’t going to be any super zombies soldiers on board his ship. And he’d rollover in his grave before he let them do it to his wife.

“After you come back from the doc, you will report to me, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are there any questions?”

“No, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

She did an about face before leaving the room. Keegan clasped his hands behind his back. In the blink of an eye, his joy had turned to sorrow. Now faced with the responsibility of looking after his wife, he wondered how could he handle the burden of command and still protect the woman he loved.

Thanks for reading! And comment for your chance to win a free copy of one of my books!

The winner will be notified and receive their ebook by e-mail.

Get your own copy of Ice and Peace today!

You can find me on the web at:

Clare's Blog 2: The haven – www.claresblog2thehaven.blogspot.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/clare.dargin

Twitter: www.twitter.com/clare_dargin