“What are you thinking about there, Dancing Queen?”
Clearing her throat, she quickly snaps her attention back to him.
“Nothing. I wasn’t thinking of anything.”
“Those blue eyes of yours tell a different story, Ms. Crystalline.”
He takes a step forward and she attempts to step back but can’t because there’s a car there. Duh!
“What … what are you doing?”
“I’m guessing what you and I have both been thinking about despite the aggravation with one another.”
Without another word, his big hands take hold of her face and pull her to him. When their lips meet any protest she may have had is dismissed. Instead, she finds herself lost in his kiss. His lips feel so wonderful against her own and the feeling it conjures starts a burning need to coil inside. His desire to make this kiss more is felt as he presses into her and coaxes her lips to part in order for his tongue to sweep into her awaiting mouth. She doesn’t know which of them moans first but the tremor she feels is all her own.
His hands begin a downward journey and she begins to reach upward to tangle her hand in his hair. When he reaches her taut nipple and gives it a squeeze, she almost convulses in reaction.
How long had it been since Mitchell? Mitchell. Yes, Mitchell. The mere thought of his name causes her body to instantly cool. Still, she reluctantly pulls back from the hungry kiss of the man before her.
“Um … I … hmm. I … I do need something from you. I need a ride home. My … the car … I have a flat tire and no spare.”
The knowing look on his face makes her want to crawl into a hole and hide.
“Don’t look at me like that. Whatever! You’re a damn good kisser. Woohoo for you. You had me for a moment. The moment is over. I … what are you doing?”
His body presses into her again and his hand slides into the front of her jeans. She didn’t think there would be enough room for him to get that big hand of his down there. His fingers glide over her center and she moans. Hearing her reaction to this man was too much. She couldn’t do this, be this person.
About the Author
“Reading makes me smile. Finding new authors makes it all worthwhile.”
I am a reader, a blogger, an author, a mother. I am a person, a human being with feelings. I run the gamut of emotions and love making new connections. I. Am. Woman!On my page, you will find a multitude of things that inspire, enrich, and encourage. You will also see books I’m reading, authors I am looking forward to reading or have read.Most of all, you’ll see the works I have in store for lovers of mystery, romance, and paranormal along with the insanity that is my personality.Enjoy and share, all is fair.*RS*
Kate Crawford’s always had a scorching attraction to her father’s best friend, sexy hotelier Graham Davenport. Now she’s going to study in Europe, but she wants to realize her secret wish and lose her virginity to Graham. After all, she’s not a teenager anymore and ready for some Adult X-rated fun.
Graham Davenport hires Kate as his trainee in his luxury hotel as a favor to her father, but seeing her flaunt her hot body is driving him insane and he’s about to lose his self-control. He doesn’t want to betray the man who helped him turn around his life, but this woman is no longer a teenager with a crush. And her desire unleashes secret passions and fantasies that neither of them can deny…
Bookish Pet Peeves
by Carmen Falcone
I love writing but I’m also an avid
reader. Whenever I read, I try to distance myself from the notion I’m an
author. Ideally, I try to appreciate the
author’s vision instead of trying to figure out what I’d have done differently.
Of course, I have my bookish pet peeves like everyone else.
For instance, my heroines must be
relatable, likeable individuals. Pardon my French, but if she’s super bitchy
for no good reason I’m done with that book and onto the next. I love a strong
female lead. I can deal with snark and sarcasm; but I need to know (or at least
a hint) why she acts that way. Don’t
have a heroine (or a hero for that matter) act super obnoxious then finally let
me know on page 150 they’re this way because of X and Y.
many secondary characters turn me off.
Don’t get me wrong… secondary characters can add a lot to a story and I
appreciate them. They can help the characters realize things, show the reader traits
about our hero we wouldn’t otherwise know, etc. But if I’m reading a category
romance for instance (that’s supposed to be tighter/with more focus on hero and
heroine) and the heroine’s bestie is stealing the show or the hero’s brothers
keep showing on the page way too often (and for no good reason other than
promoting their own books they will get in the future) I start to lose
interest. Of course single titles are different and often have more subplots
and a wealth of characters to support the longer format. That’s why I’m a category romance junkie—I
love to focus on the hero and the heroine J
stay away from slow paced stories. Some
of them are awesome, but they’re just not for me. I have two kids and a busy
life so when I sit down to read I need to have that urge to turn the pages.
Of course for each its own. Everybody has different tastes and that’s
why our book world is so diverse and fabulous.
How about you? What turns
you off when you’re reading a romance book?
Carmen Falcone learned at an early age that fantasizing about fictional characters beat doing math homework any day. Brazilian by birth and traveler by nature, she moved to Central Texas after college and met her broody Swiss husband--living proof that opposites attract. She found in writing her deepest passion and the best excuse to avoid the healthy lifestyle everyone keeps talking about. When she's not lost in the world of romance, she enjoys spending time with her two kids, being walked by her three crazy pugs, reading, catching up with friends, and chatting with random people in the checkout line.
Tia Monroe was smart, sassy and successful. Sure, she could get a little crazy at times—life around Tia was never boring—but that was part of her appeal. And while she didn’t see herself as ‘classically beautiful’, she had no shortage of options in the boyfriend department. She just hadn’t found one who held her interest.
Until she laid eyes on Eric Larsson, and then it was lust at first sight.
He packed the perfect mix of smoldering sexy and unapologetic cool into his blond-haired, blue-eyed, ridiculously hot six-foot-four frame. One smile from him was enough to twist her insides, making her girlie bits tingle in the most delicious way. But it wasn’t just his looks, he was smart and funny—charming in the most a-dork-able way.
The only problem was . . . Tia had never actually met him.
Eric Larsson was one of Hollywood’s hottest movie stars, rising to the top of his game and leaving a trail of disintegrated panties in his wake. Tia’s were no exception—but she wasn’t delusional. Love, marriage and happily-ever-after were not part of her fantasy; she just wanted to meet him. Just one time. One time. Confident that just seeing him in the flesh would get him out of her system.
So, with her resolve steeled, Tia set off on a quest to make it happen while avoiding her mug shot being splayed across the five o’clock news.
The journey no doubt will make for one hell of a story.
“Oh my God.” The words wheezed out of me as all the oxygen escaped from my lungs. My chest tightened like I’d been kicked right in between my ribs.
There he was a few feet behind me slowly making his way toward me.
“Eric, look here.”
“Eric, this way.”
Both sides of the line screamed at him as he patiently walked from side to side, signing autographs and taking selfies. Each step he took inching him closer to where I had frozen, my eyes bulging out of my head like a complete lunatic.
There he was.
Eric Larsson, right in front of me.
And not even internet stalking could have prepared me for what he looked like in real life.
So handsome he almost didn’t seem real, and as much as I tried I couldn’t stop staring.
Say something my mouth begged as my brain continued on its mental vacation. My eyes scanned every inch of his body like it was planning to build a 3-D replica.
Holy hell he was wearing the absolute fuck out of that suit. Every inch of the fabric curling around his delicious body like its life depended on it. And believe me, even though he was covered from head to toe in tailored Tom Ford perfection—I’d seen photos of him in this particular suit before—it did nothing to hide how obscenely hot he was.
My heart thumped loudly as he took another step closer, his eyes remaining on the crowd.
It rang out clear despite the noise around us. It took me a minute to realize that while my brain had stalled, my mouth hadn’t suffered the same fate. My lips still open as his name left them.
Who the hell yells out his last name? I panicked, unable to tear my eyes from him as his head lifted and his eyes settled on me.
Dear. Lord. In. Heaven. And. All. The. Saints.
Eric Larsson was looking at me.
His brow lifted in acknowledgement as his lips curled, momentarily blinding me as he flashed his trademark smile.
Well, if that wasn’t an invitation, I didn’t know what was.
So, even though I was struggling to breathe—my ability to remain upright also not guaranteed—my feet moved me closer toward him. My internal pep talk worked overtime as I reminded myself we were on a mission. Two minutes of eye contact, conversation . . . and something about me finding out what an asshole he was.
“Hi.” The best I could do given the circumstances.
Intellectually I knew the man was tall. I mean, in my head I figured I knew what six-foot-four looked like. But as I lifted my eyes, it didn’t come close to where I should be looking, my gaze hitting his chin before I tilted my head even higher.
“Hi,” he responded, the single word sent a shiver down my spine as he unleashed another blinding smile.
Those eyes were something else. The clearest blue I had ever seen, and though I knew it wasn’t possible it seemed like they illuminated from the inside out. Like magical orbs, the weight of their stare hypnotized me, pulling me in closer like a force field. I couldn’t have looked away if I’d tried. Not that I tried, and not that I wanted to.
And oh Lord have mercy, did he smell good. Mouthwatering. Ridiculous that it would even get a mention given I already had those eyes, his face and his delectable couture-wrapped body to contend with. Yet there was his scent wafting up my nose uninvited. A sadistic mix of sexy, clean and masculine—probably Calvin Klein—overwhelmed me as I fought the urge to bury my head in his neck and inhale him like a line of cocaine.
Say something you dumbass. My mouth begged as my hand, completely of its own accord, reached out and rested on his arm.
Holy. Freaking. Shit. I. Was. Touching. Him.
Do not moan, I reminded myself.
“Congratulations on the movie.” Words poured out of my mouth, thankfully in a sequence that made sense, as my fingers struggled not to caress the fabric of his suit. My fingers didn’t listen, slowly stroking in small—slightly inappropriate and rather suggestive—circles.
Wow, this is a really, really nice suit.
Do not lick it.
T Gephart is an indie author from Melbourne, Australia.
T's approach to life has been somewhat unconventional. Rather than going to University, she jumped on a plane to Los Angeles, USA in search of adventure. While this first trip left her somewhat underwhelmed and largely depleted of funds it fueled her appetite for travel and life experience.
With a rather eclectic resume, which reads more like the fiction she writes than an actual employment history, T struggled to find her niche in the world.
While on a subsequent trip the United States in 1999, T met and married her husband. Their whirlwind courtship and interesting impromptu convenience store wedding set the tone for their life together, which is anything but ordinary. They have lived in Louisiana, Guam and Australia and have traveled extensively throughout the US. T has two beautiful young children and one four legged child, Woodley, the wonder dog.
An avid reader, T became increasingly frustrated by the lack of strong female characters in the books she was reading. She wanted to read about a woman she could identify with, someone strong, independent and confident and who didn't lack femininity. Out of this need, she decided to pen her first book, A Twist of Fate. T set herself the challenge to write something that was interesting, compelling and yet easy enough to read that was still enjoyable. Pulling from her own past "colorful" experiences and the amazing personalities she has surrounded herself with, she had no shortage of inspiration. With a strong slant on erotic fiction, her core characters are empowered women who don't have to sacrifice their femininity. She enjoyed the process so much that when it was over she couldn't let it go.
T loves to travel, laugh and surround herself with colorful characters. This inevitably spills into her writing and makes for an interesting journey - she is well and truly enjoying the ride!
Based on her life experiences, T has plenty of material for her books and has a wealth of ideas to keep you all enthralled.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author, Pam Godwin, lives in the Midwest with her husband, their two children, and a foulmouthed parrot. When she ran away, she traveled fourteen countries across five continents, attended three universities, and married the vocalist of her favorite rock band.
Java, tobacco, and dark romance novels are her favorite indulgences, and might be considered more unhealthy than her aversion to sleeping, eating meat, and dolls with blinking eyes.
He’s headed for second base, giving me a wink. Cocky son of a.... I start running toward him, my hand outstretched with the ball, ready to tag his ass. God, what an ass. I’m a fairly fast runner since I jog all the time, but he starts pulling ahead, so I push harder. I start gaining on him and when he looks at the base, I know what he’s going to do. Just as he begins to slide.… I dive.
I’d feel a little like gloating but when I look up from my position, his head is cocked to one side and he’s smiling widely. “Feel free to stay down there a while.” He winks. I feel the heat of my blush as I push myself back from having my face right between his legs. Just like his large muscles, his cock is freaking huge! And hard as a rock. He rubs his scruffy chin. “Uh, you might want to get that dirt off. Right about here.” I give him a dirty look.
Best selling Author of Romance and Romance Suspense, Vicki lives in Kansas with her husband and two boys as well as their 3 dogs that rule their house. She loves spending time with her family and furbabies as well as reading. Look for more exciting romance adventures in the future.
Instalove! Fire Chief Aiden James often fell in lust, but not in love. That was — until the beautiful new librarian Carolina Mayfair showed up in his small town. The sparks flew and set them both aflame for one magical night, and the resulting inferno changed both of their lives forever.
Caro Mayfair was passionate, committed, and not looking for love at all. She just wanted to use her newly-minted college degree at the small library in the mountain town of Paradise. Little did she know that she was about to meet the man that would set her world on fire!
Erotica, romantica, and all sorts of other stuff!
28K-word standalone novella; can be read as standalone or part of the Passion in Paradise series.
Click to buy for 99 cents or read for free on KindleUnlimited!
Aiden had known the second he laid his eyes on that spectacular hourglass figure of hers that he wanted her. Of course he had. A man would have to be dead not to want to spend time between those gorgeous thighs, worshiping at those fantastic breasts while he fucked into what he’d bet was the tightest pussy in creation. Yes, his cock had screamed ‘MINE!’ the moment his gaze settled on her fine little body. But the second she’d turned and he’d seen her exquisite face for the first time… yeah, he’d been done. He’d known that woman would hold him – heart, mind, body, and soul.
There’d been no question at all.
He was claiming sweet Carolina for his own.
Sarah O’Rourke is actually TWO besties who live three states apart and write at all hours of the day and night! They’ve crazily nicknamed themselves Crazy One and Crazy Two. Born and raised in the southern United States, they are overly attached to their one-click accounts, can’t make it through the day without copious doses of caffeine, and spend way too much time on the phone with each other.
Between them, they have four children and twenty years of marriage…one to a retired super soldier and the other to egomaniac engineer. They hate empty chocolate wrappers and writer’s block, love to talk to readers…and oh, by the way, they write about strong, kick-ass women and hot alpha heroes!