Monday, October 17, 2016
Listen to Lucy's Ghosts! (#lesfic #halloween #audiobook @cw1985)
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Sunday, October 16, 2016
Sunday Snog 249: Halloween Heart Throbs - Rendezvous (#giveaway #pnr #bdsm)
It’s
Sunday again. I’m off traveling this week, but I couldn’t leave
you without a snog!
My
kiss excerpt today is from my sexy BDSM ghost story, Rendezvous.
As
promised, I’m giving away a book every Sunday during October. You
can win a copy of this one. Just leave me a comment! Don’t forget
to include your email address!
And
as usual, I hope you’ll visit Victoria Blisse for more sexy Sunday
Snogs!
Blurb
For
Rebecca, Halloween has always been special, an opportunity for her to
cast off her sensible, ordinary self and assume a new look and a new
identity: someone extraordinary, sensual and seductive.
When Halloween night finds her stranded by a breakdown in a seedy motel nearly a hundred miles from her friend's annual party, she's terribly frustrated and disappointed. Then she discovers that her room is haunted by the invisible but unquestionably virile ghost of a rake who seduced local women nearly half a century earlier. Gradually, the ghost unmasks Rebecca's secret desires, fulfilling every one.
By the time midnight tolls, Rebecca has come face to face with more magic than she had ever imagined.
When Halloween night finds her stranded by a breakdown in a seedy motel nearly a hundred miles from her friend's annual party, she's terribly frustrated and disappointed. Then she discovers that her room is haunted by the invisible but unquestionably virile ghost of a rake who seduced local women nearly half a century earlier. Gradually, the ghost unmasks Rebecca's secret desires, fulfilling every one.
By the time midnight tolls, Rebecca has come face to face with more magic than she had ever imagined.
Sulfur.
Just a faint trace, as if someone had been striking old-fashioned
wooden matches. I opened my eyes. The stains on the ceiling whirled
dizzily for a moment before settling down.
I
tried to move my arms and discovered that my bonds were gone. I was
stiff from immobility. My joints complained as I brought my legs
together, sat up, and scanned the dingy, run-down interior.
My
costume hung limply on the door. The corner was empty, no whip, just
a couple of dust bunnies. There were no ropes, no stockings dangling
from the bed posts. It was so quiet that I could hear the dripping of
the shower faucet.
I
was alone, or so it seemed. Something in my chest seemed to shatter.
Then
I realised that the other bed was occupied.
He
was tall, muscular and utterly gorgeous, with moon-pale skin and
luxurious black hair that curled over his high forehead. He wore
tight jeans and a leather motorcycle jacket, with a snug T-shirt
underneath. I almost drooled over his sculpted cheekbones and
decisive chin. His eyes were closed, shaded by thick dark lashes. He
didn't seem to be breathing.
I
reached out to brush my fingers over his face. “Tony?” My voice was a tentative
quaver. There was no response. But it had to be him. As an invisible
spirit, he had seethed with energy. Now he was inert, lifeless,
definitely dead.
Tears
welled up in my eyes. He had touched me. I had touched him,
surrendered to him, made myself his. We had shared something real,
something that would have been magical even if he had been flesh and
blood instead of some spectre.
I
leaned over and brushed my lips over his mouth. His lips were cool,
but not stiff. I realised that, with all our carnal connections, we
had not kissed. Taking his face in my hands, I kissed him deeply,
threading my tongue between his motionless lips, pouring out my
warmth and passion.
He
stirred beneath me. I pulled back. I'd never expected to wake the
dead. His eyes opened and focused on my face.
“Rebecca!
You can see me?”
“I
don't know how or why, but yes, I can.” I sat back and gave him an
exaggerated once over. “And I must say, I like what I see.”
“Thank
you, my little slut.” His smile was warm, rich and full of power.
It matched his voice. He reached for me, pulled my body on top of
his, and gave me a kiss that felt hot and real and unequivocally
right. His reactions were real, too; I could feel his cock stiffening
through the denim. I rubbed my naked cunt against him, and sensed him
hardening further.
“I
don't really know how these things work,” he said, finally breaking
away from my mouth. “Hauntings and so on. And of course, I don’t
really remember much about my other —manifestations. But maybe you
can see me because you're the first person who trusted me enough to
let me be myself. The first person who's really touched me, since
that Halloween in ‘62.”
“Have
you ever...has there been anyone else, since—well, you know?”
“Since
I died?” I flinched a little, and he laughed. “I really don’t
know. I have some vague recollections, more images than memories,
women writhing underneath me, pale skin marked by the whip. Maybe
it’s some kind of test. Maybe there’s someone sent to meet me
here, each year, to offer me a chance at redemption.”
On
the other hand, maybe I’m just remembering scenes from my glory
days.” He sounded slightly bitter, but then he smiled. He ran his
finger along a scarlet welt which stretched from the crest of one
breast into the hollow between them. I shivered at his touch. Shades
of past pain flitted through me, raising answering surges of
pleasure.
“You
know, even back then, when I was alive, the dark secret of so many of
the county women—maybe I wasn’t real. I thought that I was in
charge, taking what I wanted. But actually, they used me. To satisfy
their bodily lusts and their nasty fantasies. When they went back to
their nice, normal husbands or boyfriends, I was alone. Even then, I
was just a shadow.”
“You
didn’t have anyone?”
He
gave an empty laugh. His voice was heavy with irony. “I thought
that I wanted freedom. And variety. But what did I know? I was just
a kid. I was only twenty six when that bastard shot me.”
My
heart ached as much as my clit. “It’s not right. You don’t
deserve to be punished; that murderer does.”
“I
don’t know. Maybe I’m being punished for being blind, for not
seeing what really mattered.” He stroked my hair and gazed at my
face, silent, for a dozen breaths. “You. You’re something
special, you know. You understand the power of surrender. You offer
your spirit as well as your body.”
I
glowed all over at his praise. “I’m pretty ordinary, really. Just
a girl who happens to believe in magic.”
“Too
bad that I didn’t meet you—before.”
Tears
pricked the corners of my eyes. What were the chances I’d meet my
soul mate in this dump of a place? What were the chances that he’d
be dead?
****
Sound
like something you’d like to read? Leave me a comment with your email and
you could win a copy!
Saturday, October 15, 2016
Sneak Peek: Awaken from Death by M.S. Kaye (@mskosciuszko #YA #paranormal #newrelease)
Awaken from
Death
Born from
Death book 2
By M.S. Kaye
Will they
discover the truth of their ancient connection before it destroys
them both?
Ilona continues to
struggle with loss, as well as trying to find where she fits in with
other people, if she ever really will. She starts taking dangerous
risks.
Archer is desperate
to protect Illona and discovers more about himself in the progress.
When Ilona is in danger of being mauled by a dog, he desperately
tries something that shouldn’t be possible. And yet he succeeds.
This is just the
beginning of his discovery of who—what—he truly is.
Release
date 10/15/16 from Inkspell Publishing.
Add
to your to your to-read on Goodreads.
Strong as Death, Born From Death book 1
Ilona
discovers what it means to have a mother who is a modern woman and a
father who is a 19th-century gentleman ghost.
After being hit by
a car and taken to the hospital, Ilona starts to realize she’s
different from other people, and that her mother has hidden the truth
from her. She sneaks out of the hospital in order to discover the
truth.
A mysterious boy
named Archer guides her through Brooklyn and introduces her to
Hendrick, the man who claims to be her father—though he died in
1890.
Ilona must discover
not only what she must do to rid the city of Soll, a sadistic and
powerful spirit, but also what it means to be half ghost. She proves
what her mother told her—love is stronger than death.
Sneak Peek at
Awaken from Death:
The blond boy
didn’t walk up to a urinal or into one of the stalls, or even up to
the mirror. He stood in the middle of the room.
Invisible, Lettie
watched curiously.
Something moved
backward away from him. Out of him.
She recognized
Archer’s shiny black hair and strong frame even before she could
see his face.
She gasped. But
ghosts can’t inhabit people.
The blond boy shook
his head and looked around. “Fuck.”
“I’m sorry,”
Archer murmured so the boy wouldn’t hear.
Lettie stared at
both of them.
The blond boy
turned, leaned his hands on the counter, and looked at himself in the
mirror…not the way people usually looked at themselves. It was more
like he was trying to see something more than was in the reflection.
Archer watched him,
as if waiting for him to see something.
Then Lettie
understood. Archer hadn’t merely inhabited the boy—he’d
possessed him. But there were only a couple ways that’d be
possible—if he were half ghost, or if he…
A memory struck
Lettie like a horse galloping across a battlefield. An ancient
memory. Lettie had been around since the beginning of time on Earth,
but most of those thousands of years she let slink around the
crevices of her mind. It was mostly just walking the bridge with the
newly deceased. There were a few memories, though, that burned into
her every time she let herself pull them forward. And burned was
precisely the right word.
She knew—or
rather, remembered—why Archer would never leave Ilona.
Author Bio
M.S. Kaye has
several published books under her black belt. A transplant from Ohio,
she resides with her husband Corey in Jacksonville, Florida, where
she tries not to melt in the sun. Find suspense and the unusual at
www.BooksByMSK.com.
To receive news on
upcoming releases, sign up for email updates on her website.
Friday, October 14, 2016
Short and Sweet (#microfiction #writingprompts @MyPenNameOnly)
Blurb
Micro
Fiction - An Anthology is a collection of 100 responses written by
Robin Leigh Morgan for the prompt word provided by Lillie McFerrin
each Thursday on her now defunct website www.lilliemcferrin.com . Some of responses have appeared
previously on the author's blog sites, others have been written
solely for inclusion in this book.
For
excerpts, just check out the preview pages on Amazon.
About
the Author
The
best place to find out more as to who I am is to go to
where
you'll also find all of my links.
Buy
Link
The
book is also available as a free KU [KINDLE Unlimited] download,
Wednesday, October 12, 2016
A Fine Pair of Spies (#romance #suspense #espionage)
By
Tim Smith (Guest Blogger)
I’m
pleased to announce the release of my newest romantic thriller, Catch
and Release (Nick Seven: Book 5). All of the standard elements are
here—exotic location with sun, sand and surf, action, witty
interplay between the characters, a villain and plot straight out of
Ian Fleming, and plenty of steamy sexual encounters.
Former
CIA spies Nick Seven and Felicia Hagens decided to take a break from
the Florida Keys to enjoy the white sands and cool waters of Virginia
Beach. Their relaxation comes to an abrupt halt when Felicia
recognizes the notorious Russian criminal named Festov. But Felicia
killed Festov six years earlier in Amsterdam—or so she thought.
This unexpected appearance reveals a terrifying conspiracy with
global implications. Is it really Festov or someone made up to look
like him? Can Felicia and Nick stop Festov and his partners before
they hatch their deadly plan?”
I
did something different with this one, which I hope readers will
like. In the previous adventures, the catalyst was something from
Nick’s shady past. Felicia has always been a part of it, helping
him deal with whatever the trouble was, and each installment showed
their relationship getting stronger. I decided that it was time for
Felicia to have her own adventure. That’s right—this is her
caper, and Nick provides back-up. It turns out that Felicia has a
skeleton of her own rattling in her closet, one she’s never
bothered to discuss before.
For
those who haven’t followed the series, a little history. Felicia
worked with Nick when they were both with the CIA. She’s originally
from Barbados, a former Marine, and as kick-ass as any action hero.
That was by design when I created the character. Nick needed a
romantic interest, one to share his civilian adventures with, but I
didn’t want someone who couldn’t match him in the tough
department. Each story has given her some action to get involved in,
but I felt that the time was right for her to take the lead. This
being a romantic thriller, I needed to keep their relationship alive
and well.
Here’s an excerpt:
Felicia
sat on the beach with Nick, her knees pulled near her torso and her
arms resting on them while she stared at the night sky over the
ocean. A few birds did a call-and-response with each other in the
distance, countering the sounds of others occupying the beach. Sure
is peaceful out here. She glanced over at Nick, who had
stretched out on the blanket and crossed his feet at the ankles.
“What
made you think of doin’ this?” she asked.
“You
did, when you told me how much fun you used to have on the beach back
home.”
She
leaned over and kissed him. “You’re sweet.”
He
sat up, retrieved two Piña Colada wine coolers from the ice bucket
then handed one to her. She took a swallow and resumed looking at the
horizon. The evening breeze had cooled the sultry temps of daytime,
making it tolerable. She pointed at a small flashing light high in
the sky.
“What
do you think?” she asked. “Star or satellite?”
“The
romantic in me wants to say star.” He placed his hand on her cheek
to turn her face toward his. “Our very own star, just looking over
us.”
Felicia
pushed him onto his back and kissed him. She peered into his eyes and
ran her fingers along his brow and cheek. “You aren’t really such
a hard-ass as you like people to think. Did you know that?”
Nick
played with a strand of her hair. “Don’t let it get around.”
“Afraid
someone might find out what a pushover you really are?”
“Yeah,
that’s me. Carbon steel on the outside, cotton candy inside.”
Felicia
glanced at three young women who had staked their claim a dozen yards
away, trying to be articulate between sips of wine and puffs on the
joint they passed around. The rancid-sweet smell of Colombian gold
drifted through the air. The longer the women toked, the more heated
their discussion became. From what Felicia could hear, it was a
spirited debate on the pros and cons of anal sex. The pros argued
that it was great as long as you used enough lube, while the one con
held firm that afterwards she couldn’t sit comfortably for a week.
This was followed by more toking and uncontrolled giggling.
“Interesting
debate,” Nick commented.
“The
things people argue about when they’re stoned.”
Nick
sat up, opened a can of Sterno then lit it. He set it on the sand in
front of them then handed Felicia a stick impaling two marshmallows.
He held his over the flame and slowly rotated it.
Felicia
giggled. “I can’t believe we’re doin’ this.”
“Didn’t
you ever go camping?”
“Only
when I was on active duty. Surprised you didn’t bring C-rations to
eat.”
“Be
careful what you wish for. Next time, I might.”
He
took one toasted marshmallow from the stick and fed it to her.
“Mmm,
good.”
Nick
ate the marshmallow she fed him then took a drink. “What’s a
Barbados beach party like?”
Felicia
took a drink before answering. “Everybody brought somethin’
homemade and we’d have a big bonfire with a pot of crabs cookin’.”
She grinned at the memory. “My uncle would get juiced and pour in a
bottle of homemade rum for flavoring.”
“Did
it help?”
“Not
really, but the crabs enjoyed it.”
Nick
laughed. “Guess that took the sting out of being boiled alive. What
else happened?”
“After
ev’ryone got their fill of crabs and fried plantains, and they
passed around the jugs of wine, somebody would play music and people
danced.” She leaned in close and lowered her voice. “Don’t tell
anyone, but some of us would sneak off to go skinny dippin’.”
“So
that’s where you learned not to wear clothes at the beach.”
She
squeezed his knee. “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”
“What
makes you think I haven’t?”
Her
eyebrows arched. “When?”
He
took a drink. “Jamaica, when I was on an assignment. I had to visit
a clothing optional beach.”
“I
can’t wait to hear this one. Why would you hit a nude beach while
you were workin’ a case?”
“Because
the person I was following went there.” He looked into her eyes. “I
had to blend in, you know.”
Felicia
laughed. “Did you take your gun with you?”
“No
place to hide it.”
She
had a thought and gave him an amused look. “Was the subject of your
assignment a man or a woman?”
Nick
looked at her for a moment. “A woman. She was the girlfriend of a
smuggler we were after and I was assigned to follow her until she
made contact. Didn’t know where it would take me.”
She
raked her fingers along his cheek. “Did your tail job divulge
anythin’ vital?”
“I
found out that she was a natural redhead with a sunburst tat on her
ass.”
“How
did that help your investigation?”
“It
didn’t, but I found it very interesting.”
“Really
took your job seriously, didn’t you?”
“That’s
why I got the big bucks.”
He
set his bottle aside then pulled Felicia onto her back next to him.
They gazed at the clear, starlit sky, blotting out everything else
around them.
“Star
light, star bright, first star I see tonight,” Felicia softly
recited. “I wish I may, I wish I might…”
Her
voice trailed off as prior thoughts flooded her head, the good
memories fighting the unpleasant ones that had made a return visit
after lying dormant.
“Why
didn’t you finish?” Nick asked.
She
peered into his eyes. “Don’t need to.”
*
* * *
If
you’re in the mood for a breezy fast-paced adventure that will
satisfy without making you think too hard, check out “Catch and
Release.” I think you’ll enjoy the trip.
Buy
Links
Amazon
Extasy
Books
Barnes
and Noble
About
Tim
Tim
Smith is an award-winning, bestselling author whose books range from
romantic mystery/thrillers to contemporary erotic romance. His
website is www.timsmithauthor.com.
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