Monday, December 20, 2010

Today's Wonderful Guest is Rob Appleton...

Good Morning Readers,
Please make welcome today's very special guest, British author Rob Appleton. It's always an honor to have this young man drop by. I know Rob has a contest for your fun and a wonderful excerpt for your reading pleasure. Be sure and leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of Rob and Sloane's new release...Tabs




 Hi Tabs ! Thanks for the kind invite. It’s now snowing heavily here in Bolton, England, so I think it’s time for a sensual teaser to warm things up a little. At the end, I’ll be giving away an eBook copy of Claire de Lune to one lucky commenter. But first, a quick intro :


You’re invited to the galaxy’s most prestigious beauty pageant. Clothing optional. Romance and danger…fully provided…

Cocky young detectives Gerry Rappeneau and Sebastian Thorpe-Campbell arrive at the premier lunar resort expecting a week of eye candy and long massages. With a half-billion-credit purse up for grabs, this year’s pageant is the focus of a hundred worlds. And beauty isn’t the only thing in the eye of the beholder.

One contestant, Evelyn Lyons, is attacked and her assailant killed. Surely a simple case of a stalker gone mad, as nothing bad ever happens at the Selene contest. So the brochure says.

The closer Gerry gets to Evelyn, the more he is convinced she’s hiding something. His meticulous character sparks with her wild, sassy nature, and they embark on a torrid affair. Their forbidden romance isn’t the only thing set to ignite in Pont de Reves.

Sebastian’s infatuation with demure Claire Villiers, another contestant, threatens to put all four of them in harm’s way.

A deadly trail of corporate conspiracy, monstrous assassins and hot bikini wax is more than anyone bargained for in this incendiary erotic mystery. Get ready for some serious heat on the dark side of the moon.

The fabulous Sloane Taylor and I had a blast collaborating on this smoking hot sci-fi mystery novel. Our exclusive excerpt takes place after a tense casino scene in which Sebastian and Claire shared some heat across the baccarat table. But Sebastian’s partner, Gerry, has just uncovered evidence that puts Claire in harm’s way…

***

“Excuse me, Ms. Villiers.” Sebastian grew lightheaded as he leaned in close to her shiny brunette curls and Mystique perfume. “Will you come with me, please.” It wasn’t a question.

She neither looked up at him nor reacted in any way surprised. “What for, Detective?” she asked with sultry confidence, separating her red tower of ten thousand plaques into two even piles. “Am I under arrest?”

“No, but your life may well be in danger.”

He watched her beautiful, swan-like neck for a reaction. Sure enough, the lump in her throat seemed to roll like a heartbeat in slow motion. Fear.

“Come on. I’ll escort you back to your room. And don’t worry; you’re safe with me.”

She nodded. Sebastian helped her off her stool, then scooped up her chips and kept her close as they walked to the caisse. No words, only half smiles, ricocheting glances, and a mutual shortness of breath betrayed the rising attraction he perceived. Sebastian thought she looked devastating in a bride of Dracula sort of way—eye shadow, spidery eyelashes, black gloves, a somewhat Gothic, figure-hugging evening dress. There was also a caginess about her, a taciturn depth that seemed to scrutinize the world from beneath her sweet exterior. He could feel the intensity effervescing through his pores, like the shared taste of champagne during a French kiss.

Claire stuffed the credit discs in her soft, black purse and wrapped the handle’s silver beading around her knuckles. The sucker looked heavy. She’d done well at the baccarat table.

“Good night, sir, madam,” said the doorman.

“Yeah, ’night.” Sebastian turned to Claire. “Here, let me carry that. It’s too much for a little lady to haul about.”

She brushed his hand away and, to Sebastian’s genuine surprise, she offered him her other one. A bone-deep frisson gripped him. He almost tripped over his own heels as he sidled closer and took her hand. A breathless sensation. Warm butterscotch with the tingle, but not the crackle of static. All the way to the hotel foyer, his heart and his head and his hand occupied the same space—molded in the supple magic grip of Claire Villiers.

“Aren’t you going to tell me what this is about?” Her sideways glance melted the last of him.

“Detective Rappeneau says you’re in trouble. Do you know a woman named Evelyn Lyons?”

“No.”

“She’s another Selene contestant—blonde, from Yordan.”

“I don’t know her.”

They reached the empty elevator. Sebastian pressed three.

“Well, she seems to know you. Her room was ransacked tonight, and whoever did it seemed to be interested in your profile—it was found among Ms. Lyons’ things. Coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes, I would.” Her expression remained inscrutable, her posture stately. “What do you think it means?”

Sebastian didn’t believe her, but he thought it was wise to play along until Gerry called. Branding her a liar felt wrong on every conceivable level of his conscience, not the least because he had an erection the size of the Washington Monument. He cleared his throat. “We don’t know yet. But I promise I’ll keep you safe until we find out.”

“Thank you, Sebastian,” she said. A glowing smile extended to her eyes.

“My pleasure.”

Christ! Even the sound of the word “pleasure” in close proximity to her sent a typhoon raging through his brain. He had to stop thinking with his dick. If Gerry was right and Claire was in the crosshairs, a horny bachelor would be as much use to her as paper stilettos. He was armed, yes, but what use was that if he couldn’t hold the fucker straight?

“Won’t you come in?” She let go of his hand and retrieved her room card from her purse.

“I think I’d bett— No! Don’t touch it!” He grabbed her arm as she shoved the card into the lock. Yanking her away from the door, he sickened at the affirmative click. He stepped out of a quick cold shower of shame. His mind had been wandering. He’d almost let her open the door to her room without checking it first. Unforgivable.

Claire rubbed her arm where he’d manhandled her.

“Stay here.” He sprang into action with his palms pressed against the cool metal grip of his Kruger. “Don’t…move.” He smashed the door open with a single kick and swallowed the geography of the room in a split-second glimpse. No threat that he could see. A bit of a mess near the wardrobe—clothes left on the floor or tossed over the back of the chair. But that could just be Claire’s untidiness. Otherwise, the room resembled Evelyn Lyons’ to a fault. Expensively accoutered, spacious, big window. Sebastian darted out into the middle of the room, his firearm trained on the Jacuzzi area, then behind the wardrobe, behind the door. He checked under the bed, inside the wardrobe.

A sigh.

“It’s all right, Claire. You’re safe to come in.”

No reply. His heart plummeted. He made ready to tear outside, to chase her and her kidnapper to the ends of the moon, and kill anyone who got in his way. Then she slinked inside and, expressionless, eased the door shut behind her.

“We’ll just stay put…wait for the word from Gerry.” He sank his pistol into its holster. Claire took his jacket and hung it up behind the door.

“Can I get you a drink?” she said.

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

“A bite to eat?”

“Nah, best not get too comfortable. But I think it’s time you came clean about—”

Claire reached for his hand and pulled him toward her. Her freckled face was clearly a strawberry red, her lips trembling. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. Sebastian nestled his chin in her soft, dark brown curls, twining her warm fingers with his. They swayed to an inner beat, their slow dance a syncopation of heartbeats on the skip. Breathless, he leaned back until she looked up, her big, hazel eyes glinting and full of want. What a gentle creature she really was beneath the glamour. A vulnerable, fragile beauty. A lady.

***
And now for a mini Selene contest of our own. To be in with a chance of winning a copy of Claire de Lune, simply nominate one man and one woman you think are the most beautiful in the world. The only rules are they have to be living and famous. Leave your choices in the comments section and I’ll pick the winner in a few days. Have fun!

Claire de Lune is available to buy at Amber Quill Press, Amazon Kindle, All Romance Ebooks, and all good digitial book outlets. Also coming soon in paperback.

Robert Appleton has a website here, and Sloane Taylor has one here. Drop by and say hello.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Twelve Days of Christmas with Destiny Blaine!

Good Morning Readers,
Please make welcome my very special guest, Destiny Blaine who is hosting her Twelve Days of Christmas and I'm so lucky to be sharing one of those days right here on my blog site. So...welcome, Destiny!


Hi, Tabitha!


Thank you for allowing me to be your guest today. I wanted to stop by and tell you about my new novel. Waking up the Arguably Dead is available now at Passion in Print.

Waking up the Arguably Dead is a Dark Paranormal MFM Romance with comic relief elements. Readers will get a glimpse inside my hometown of Blountville , Tennessee as they flip the pages of this Passion in Print novel. They’ll see what I see while driving down Main Street and they'll discover a country store, while somewhat fabricated, where many of us pop in for an ice cold soda and good conversation.

Waking up the Arguably Dead introduces readers to Granny Myrtle, a spunky little old woman who is several characters all wrapped up in one. I created Granny from a few country grandmothers I’ve had the pleasure of meeting at least once. As for Addison: Well, I don't know anyone quite like Addison but she sure is one lucky gal. Read the book and find out why a lot of girls in these parts might be a little envious.

In this novel, you’ll meet Melissa, the LPN over at the local physician’s office. I’m happy to say she is true to form. No, there isn’t a Dr. Michaels in Blountville, but Melissa lives here. She’s a saucy little vixen who knows what she wants and doesn’t care to tell everyone how much she’s enjoyed getting it. The first name has been changed to protect the promiscuous and as far as I know the real ‘Melissa’ never worked a day in her life. You'll like her though. She's full of surprises.

Step inside Waking up the Arguably Dead. Meet my characters. Then, drop an email and let me know what you think. What would you do if you were in Addison’s shoes? destinyblaine@yahoo.com.

 
Waiting to Die Can be Such a Drag


Blurb:
Martin Cartwright's neighbor receives disheartening news. She's dying. As far as Martin can tell, Addison has never looked better, but when daily sightings of his beautiful neighbor become few and far between, Martin realizes Addison isn't too keen on living. And he decides to help her get on with dying.

Martin plans to scare Addison into living. Unbeknownst to him, someone is watching with similar goals. Only Drake Valentine's interests in the lovely Miss Deveraux vary from Martin's ambitions. Soon, Addison must choose between living in the shadows of sickness and stepping into the darkness where she's always been drawn.

Waiting to Die Can be Such a Drag




Blurb:



Martin Cartwright's neighbor receives disheartening news. She's dying. As far as Martin can tell, Addison has never looked better, but when daily sightings of his beautiful neighbor become few and far between, Martin realizes Addison isn't too keen on living. And he decides to help her get on with dying.



Martin plans to scare Addison into living. Unbeknownst to him, someone is watching with similar goals. Only Drake Valentine's interests in the lovely Miss Deveraux vary from Martin's ambitions. Soon, Addison must choose between living in the shadows of sickness and stepping into the darkness where she's always been drawn.


Excerpt:

Addison Deveraux stared at her family physician for several minutes, unable to speak and incapable of processing the information he relayed. She focused on the white walls around her. She skimmed over the medical licenses and board certifications, eventually narrowing her gaze on the overstuffed plastic brochure rack housing material about common medical problems. The entire time, she remained faintly aware of her doctor’s monotone voice. An avid movie enthusiast, Addison disconnected from the moment and recalled a recent flick she’d watched.

She remembered one scene in particular where a woman learned of her life-destroying health circumstance. Thanks to modern day technology, the character slipped into a mindboggling funnel surrounded by noise typically found in a seashell. The echo intensified and the room scrambled into spinning pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

On the big screen, the actress sobbed. The doctor calmly provided information about the disease for which she’d been diagnosed and the woman finally zoomed in on those fated words: “You’re dying.”

Addison blinked. “I am?”

“ Addison ,” Dr. Michaels began gently, “Haven’t you heard a word I just said?”

She swallowed. “No, I was…” Thinking about dying.

“ Addison , this isn’t something you should take lightly,” Dr.Michaels stressed, leaning over his desk. An older man with salt and pepper hair, Dr. Michaels wore tinted large-rimmed glasses and resembled someone who might have been chosen to portray a physician delivering detrimental news.

Addison watched his mouth move. His words hummed all around her, beating into her ears like a hollow drum. “Treatment is something we should discuss together. This isn’t the end and that’s it.”

Boom. Boom. Boom. The maddening tempo gained momentum.

Advice slipped from his lips but the words ran together in a never-ending slur. “Think of diagnosis as a transition. By the time you’ve processed the information I’ve given you, you’ll be ready to face the days ahead. In the end, you’ll be much better off.”

She gulped. There it was. The dreaded statement, You’ll be much better off.

How many times had she attended a funeral for one of her grandmother’s friends and heard the same thing? Mary Lou Cornell went to a better place. Dan Bradley was much better off after both arms and one leg were amputated.

Carla Sue Davis found Jesus after living on the streets and working for some pimp who decided to repay her years of servitude with continual beatings. And Barbara Jo Jones faced death the same way she’d faced living; always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

No indeed, Addison refused to walk down the same road chosen by Granny Myrtle’s best friends, or her cousin Gertrude, who for some reason received her bad news and decided to kick the bucket, before the bucket smacked her upside her head. No way. Addison planned to do a little better for herself. She’d die on her own terms.

The way Addison met death was her decision. Since she had a choice in the matter, she planned to go on out there and greet death—take her fate by the horns and ride the daylights out of it.

Yep, it was time to get on with dying.




Waking up the Arguably Dead by Destiny Blaine

Coming to Passion in Print on December 11, 2010
MFM Paranormal-Vampire

Links: http://destinyblaine.blogspot.com/

http://www.destinyblaine.com/

Buy Link:

http://passioninprint.com/



Wow, Destiny,
This book sounds fantastic...Best of luck with sales and please return soon to be my guest....
Tabs

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Please make welcome, the fabulous Sloane Taylor!!

Hi Readers,
Today I'm so honored to have one of the best Erotic Romance Novelists, Sloane Taylor as my special guest. She, along with her writing partner, Rob Appleton are sure to have a big hit with their new book, Claire De Lune. So drag up a chair, sit down and stay a spell...no pun intended...I promise you'll love the excerpts they've chosen for today....they're smokin'...
Tabs



Hi Tabitha,

Thanks for having me out to play today. I appreciate the opportunity to chat with everyone. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m a sensual woman who believes humor and sex are healthy aspects of our everyday lives which carry over into my books.

I was born and raised in Chicago. Studly, my non-husband and mate for life, and I split our time between a home in Illinois and a weekend cottage on the back roads of Indiana…or you can catch up with me as I travel through Europe, researching new material.

Please visit me at http://www.sloanetaylor.com, http://www.myspace.com/sloanetaylor and of course http://www.facebook.com/home.php.



Genres: Science Fiction / Futuristic / Action / Adventure / Mystery / Detective / Voyeurism


Heat Level: 2
Length: Novel (70k words


BLURB:


You’re invited to the galaxy’s most prestigious beauty pageant. Clothing optional. Romance and danger…fully provided…

Cocky young detectives Gerry Rappeneau and Sebastian Thorpe-Campbell arrive at the premier lunar resort expecting a week of eye candy and long massages. With a half-billion-credit purse up for grabs, this year’s pageant is the focus of a hundred worlds. And beauty isn’t the only thing in the eye of the beholder.

One contestant, Evelyn Lyons, is attacked and her assailant killed. Surely a simple case of a stalker gone mad, as nothing bad ever happens at the Selene contest. So the brochure says.

The closer Gerry gets to Evelyn, the more he is convinced she’s hiding something. His meticulous character sparks with her wild, sassy nature, and they embark on a torrid affair. Their forbidden romance isn’t the only thing set to ignite in Pont de Reves.

Sebastian’s infatuation with demure Claire Villiers, another contestant, threatens to put all four of them in harm’s way.

A deadly trail of corporate conspiracy, monstrous assassins and hot bikini wax is more than anyone bargained for in this incendiary erotic mystery. Get ready for some serious heat on the dark side of the moon.

EXCERPT: CLAIRE DE LUNE
 
…Evelyn glared across at Van der Sands, her grey eyes metallic and sharp. Busy placing the new drinks order, the banker didn’t notice her.


“He’s a son of a bitch.” Evelyn retrieved a white business card and a ballpoint pen from her purse. She wrote on the back and slid it to Gerry.

He swallowed hard as he read, Clean the bastard out & I’ll sleep with you tonight.

She let her hands fall loose at her side, unmasking her face. Gerry’s first thought was one of easy acquiescence. Whatever she wanted! If this was the start of some kind of saucy foreplay, why the hell not? Then he watched the curious game within the game unfold.

A few slow-burning fireworks started the show. Sly glances between her and Van der Sands; the brunette girl with fleeting yet repeated eye contact; Evelyn whistling a tune. Subtle—but the shared air was definitely combustible. What was going on among the three of them? And what did she have against her old boss?

He slipped the card into his pocket. The drinks arrived and Van der Sands made sure everyone was ready to resume. “Le jeux est fait. Un banco de quatre cent mille.”

The CEO wasn’t messing around. High stakes, just like the previous round. Gerry might have backed off—four hundred thousand was two fifths of his total allowance for the night—but Evelyn’s note and the bizarre charades had already piqued his interest. “Banco,” he announced.

Van der Sands dealt him two quick cards and a lengthy, probing stare. Gerry matched the latter. At first the man had seemed indifferent, almost petty about the game of baccarat. Now there was fiery curiosity in his eyes, as though he needed to know who this blond opponent was and why Gerry was in league with her. He thought of it as dick-measuring by proxy. Neither man knew the other, but they had become tacit rivals by association with the same beautiful woman.

A seven and a two—a natural nine. A great first hand. Gerry tapped his cards, signifying he didn’t want another. Van der Sands would now have to err on the side of risk.

He drew a nine and a five. A score of four. To get close to nine, he had to risk another card.

The croupier flipped an ace. “Cinq a la banque.”

Gerry nudged Evelyn’s arm before arrogantly tossing his cards face up into the center.

“Monsieur Rappeneau wins.” The croupier retrieved the cards and awarded Gerry his chips.

The brunette congratulated him with an approving nod and a silent clap. Her black elbow-length gloves added to her mystique. Evelyn, boasting a mischievous grin, stroked his thigh under the table, edging dangerously close to his dick. His next sip of Mackison competed with a gasp. He covered his mouth. It was all he could do to stop a mouthful of beverage showering the green baize. Evelyn’s hand had strayed into sensitive territory. He didn’t know whether to yank it away or shove it deeper into his crotch.

“Keep it up,” she whispered in his ear. “And that goes for your winnings, too. Tonight, I’m gonna screw your brains out.”

Jesus Christ! His hold on propriety slipped like an eel through soapy rubber gloves. The casino grew close. Stifling. Evelyn grabbed his crotch and massaged the tip of his erection. He gave another gasp. The brunette watched him through the prism of her glass while she sipped her Malibu. The way those sensuous black gloves contrasted with her white arms and shoulders… Oh, God! He glanced down at Evelyn’s breathtaking tits. His hand shaking, he took a large swig of Mackison. It helped. Only for a moment. Evelyn moved in close and placed her hand on his shoulder. She gave him a look so serious and seductive he felt his erotic self tumbling into her cleavage. Somebody…help.

“Un banco de trois cent mille.”

The Australian answered, “Banco.”

Gerry wrenched himself to his feet. He regained the wherewithal to kiss Evelyn’s cheek before stuttering, “Excuse me. Shan’t be a minute,” to the other startled players. Breathing a long, shivery sigh on his way to the restroom, he tripped on a step and almost bulldozed a waitress into her trolley of snacks.

“Good God.” He locked the men’s room door behind him. “She’s an animal. I’m dating a goddamn wild animal…”


EXCERPT 2:

Evelyn’s self-esteem soared like a rocket into space as she gazed into Gerry’s dark blue eyes. All the need and desire that filled him shone through. She liked him, maybe even more than that if she were honest, and had wanted him from the moment his pompous ass walked into her hotel room. Being with him and initiating sex tonight was the right thing for her to do.

Gerry wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer, as if he sensed how frail she was at that moment.

A sigh escaped her. Damn, his hard chest felt good against her achy boobs, but not as good as his rigid cock nestling into her belly.

“Evie—"

“Don’t talk.” She hadn’t heard that name in a long time, not since her father was murdered.

He nodded and traced his index finger along her bottom lip. She nipped the tip, then sucked it in, tonguing the pad until he groaned.

“Ah, Ev—” He caught her face in both of his hands and kissed her with a passion that ignited her like none other.

His tongue toyed against the seam of her mouth and she willingly opened to welcome him. He delved in, a beautiful taste of wine and herbs, lapping and swirling until her knees trembled. With a regretful sigh, she pulled away.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Shh. No talking. It’s my little quirk.” She gently tapped his mouth, then took his hand and led him closer to the purple sand. After she stooped, she patted the floor, inviting him to join her. He made short work of sprawling out and laid his arms at his sides.

Evelyn rose up on her knees and combed her hands down his chest, flicking his nipples until they sprang to life. Intrigued by their stiff peaks, she swiped her tongue over her dry lips and leaned into him, licking and sucking the copper-colored discs.

She continued lower to the blond tuft cradling his cock. Gently, she glided her thumb over his swollen head, teasing the drops of pre-cum from the slit to the sensitive underside. Her other hand cupped his balls, rolling the tight sacs with her fingers, taking pleasure in her teasing.

His hips jerked with each light touch. He fisted his hands and dug his heels into the floor. Through hooded eyes, he watched, but did as she had requested and maintained silence.

On a rush of air, she gave his lips a quick peck and eased over him, holding her thighs tight against his lean frame. Heat emanated from his body, soothing and stimulating, a new awareness she longed to experience more than just once.

Her breasts swayed mere inches from his mouth. He stretched up and tweaked her pebbled nipples with his thumbs and index fingers. Cuddling them together, he licked and suckled the sensitive tips, first one, then the other. A deep shiver rocketed through her, increasing the ache low in her belly.

She teased his cock along her nether lips, loving the feel of his hot flesh grazing against her clit. In slow motion, she edged onto his shaft, savoring the inches that penetrated her wet vagina.

He rocked into her, clutching her hips, holding her in place. She locked her hands around his wrists and pulled them away, the need to set the pace paramount.

Time stood still. The only sounds in the room were their pants and grunts as they ground against each other. He stopped mid-thrust, his face set in a grimace.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he bit out through clenched teeth. “This is so sexy I don’t want to come.”

“I do.” She slapped his hip. “Again and again.”

Rising up on her knees, Evelyn again found her momentum and rode him harder, faster, loving the feel of him pounding inside her. Her breath hitched as he thrust higher, deeper, tapping her womb, the sensation sublime.

Sweat beaded on her forehead. Her body tensed. She gritted her teeth, unable to control the emotion skyrocketing through her...


LINKS:

Buy Link http://amberquill.com/AmberHeat/ClaireDeLune.html


Robert Appleton www.robertappleton.co.uk

Sloane Taylor www.sloanetaylor.com


CLAIRE DE LUNE


Robert Appleton & Sloane Taylor

ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-011-5 (Electronic)

ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-995-8 (Electronic)

Amber Quill Press – Amber Heat