Awake and thinking of what to write next. Nothing is coming to me not even what to write in this post. It happens. I don’t call it writer’s block only a blank page. Tomorrow or later today, perhaps, my muse will return, and we’ll begin our next erotic adventure. Maybe I’ll do a sequel to Hot Spanish Nights or a prequel. With Halloween only a few weeks away, a Halloween story would be good. Hum. Must ponder.
My book vido for On Wings of Desire won the You Gotta Read book video contest! http://yougottaread.com/category/video-contest/ Scroll down to September winners. How awesome is this? I’m still happy dancing. Take a look at the snappy trailer created by Blazing Trailers.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged angels, Bianca Swan, Blazing Trailers, book video contest, demons, Double Dragon Publishing, erotic romance, fantasy romance, romance, You Gotta Read Reviews | 1 Comment »
Welcome Michael. I understand you are a professional horseman. We share that love of horses. May I ask you a few questions?
What was your childhood like?
I grew up surrounded by horses. My father was a renowned show jumper in the eighties and horses have been in my life forever. My relationship with my parents was…and still is, strained at best. I love my mom very much but the behavior she’s tolerated from my father is hard for a child to understand or forgive.
Now I’m older, I see she was a woman in love but also a woman who enjoyed the wealth and notoriety being married to my father brought. As for my father…let’s not go there.
You’ve recently spent a lot of time with a local journalist, Caroline James. Do you want to tell us about that?
fidgets before turning steely eyes She wanted a story from me – a story she hoped would catapult her career to the City. We met under tense circumstances. We needed each other.
And now things are…developing. That’s all I have to say.
What do you do for fun?
Training my horses is my work but also my fun. I’m with them as many hours as possible. Fitness is ultra important to me so I swim and play squash as much as possible. I’m also learning to have some down time recently – let’s just say decent food, great wine and a phenomenal sex life can turn a guy’s head from what he thought important before he met a certain someone.
Do you see children in your future?
Yes. As many as possible. I love kids and have a lot of love to give. If God blesses me and they come along, they will be my focus entirely.
Quickie Questions, Michael. Don’t think, react.
Favorite TV show?
Anything by Dick Francis
Thank you, Michael. I hope things go perfectly for you. As a horsewoman, I understand your passion. Michael and Caroline’s story!
Caroline James wants to be the best investigative journalist London has ever seen. But until she has the money to leave the small town of Fayre Mead, she’s stuck and her resentment is building. So when she’s assigned to cover the Lakeland Horse Trials and meets sexy, dark-haired, and astoundingly fit horse trainer, Michael Canton, she is happy to vent some sexual and emotional frustration…and write the story of her career. But after getting personal with Michael, can she remain impersonal with the article?
Michael Canton will do anything in his power to silence his tyrannical father once and for all. Under extreme pressure to compete in the countries show jumper trials and prove his worth, Michael’s fiery emotions are running high. Caroline’s beauty and sexual confidence stokes an inner strength and determination he never knew he had. But can he trust her to know the difference between fact and fiction? Together, they are a formidable team…but will their burning ambitions ultimately blow them apart?
Still sitting in his lap, she reached behind her and lowered the zipper of her dress. It fell down over her shoulders, revealing naked breasts. His erection ached at the sight of her creamy white, perfect tits with nipples big and dark. He licked his lips and moved forward to suck one hard tip into his mouth. Her gasp sounded above him.
Her skin smelled of something sweet and sexy, innocence mixed with danger. He inhaled deeply as he grazed her pebbled nipple with his teeth before reclaiming her mouth. Her tongue was rigid and demanding against his as they fought for supremacy.
Rolling her over, he shimmied the dress down her body and tossed it to the floor. Naked, but for tiny satin panties, darkened by juices at her clit, Michael didn’t think he had ever seen a woman look more beautiful. He drank in every inch of her, knowing deep inside that this might be the only moment he’d ever see her like this. The only chance to take her, to watch her enjoy unadulterated pleasure. God, he wanted to give her pleasure.
He snapped his gaze to hers. She watched him. Her eyes were heavy lidded, screaming for him, wanting him. Male pride surged like a fireball behind his ribcage. He crawled up beside her and kissed her, his fingers trailing over her breasts, lower over her torso before diving into her panties.
She was wet. Soaking wet.
His hand glided over her narrow strip of pubic hair to her rigid clit. He circled, stretched, and teased, then moved lower until his fingers found her slit, his blood roaring in his ears. He felt alive, masculine and powerful. Her legs opened and he thrust two fingers deep inside.
Rachel Leigh lives in the UK and has been married to her own sexy hero for fifteen years.
With four novellas contracted with The Wild Rose Press, Rachel is busy plotting her fifth, sixth and seventh. She plans to venture into the historical genre for the first time and write a trio of novellas set in a small English village in the early1900s. The characters we meet aren’t quite as prim and proper as they seem…
When Rachel isn’t writing, she’s reading, watching TV, running around after her two daughters….or playing with her husband.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Amazon, character interviews, equestrians, equine, erotic romance, erotica, horse trainers, horses, hunter jumpers, Kindle, Rachel Leigh, riding horses, romance, The Wild Rose Press, UK | Leave a Comment »
I’ve been buying things, lovely things–some that I needed, like the red leather desk chair and some that I merely desired! My treasures:
Sterling silver sugar tongs – Louis Benoit Paris 1830′s:
The sweet little coffee pot to match my china pattern, Royal Doulton Sherbrooke:
And lastly but not leastly salt and pepper shakers to match my crystal pattern, Waterford Lismore:
I must go to Ebay Anonymous and overcome my addiction!
Until August 20th, you can enter to win a print copy of Linda Nightingale’s paranormal romance, Sinners’ Opera. The book is getting super reviews. Here’s the link:
Chapter 1 – Sangreal
Charleston, South Carolina, May 29th
“Dear Lord,” a woman called to heaven, “such a young man. So near death. What could have happened to you?”
My body was one long, cold ache, but a hot center throbbed in my chest. Wet and shivering, I craved only sleep and the blackness that held me.
Sirens wailed to a crash of thunder. Somewhere, someone was in trouble.
I drifted on the ebb and flow of pain until the woman gave me a gentle shake. Forcing my eyes open, I blinked to focus on the indistinct shapes materializing from fog. Rainbow angels battled demons in a stained glass window. Marble statues leered at me from the shadows. An ornate crucifix cast its silhouette on the ebony saint bent over me. Her countenance was round and full, her nose broad. Pity glistened in her dark eyes.
“You’re awake.” A smile trembled on her lips. “Thank you, Jesus.”
She seemed to be in close communication with the man on the cross. My upper body rested on her lap, my legs stretched on a shiny wooden floor. Lush breasts cradled my head. Her red blouse smelled of fresh baked bread, the tiny pearl buttons mesmerizing.
“I do declare you had me worried; you been so still-like.”
Her thick dialect called to me from the past, but I didn’t know if it was yesterday or years ago. I don’t know who I am. I frowned, trying to remember. A trill of music scrolled through my mind. The woman gave a tentative smile. I started to smile back, but the scent of fear distracted me. My clothes reeked of fear.
Another fragrance—dusky red and delicious—sent a shiver through me. The rich aroma of her blood appealed to me on levels I didn’t understand. The sensation was raw hunger mingled with passion. Beyond the blood-scent, the musk of old wood and incense, the perfume of religion, summoned a vision of a blond boy in blue velvet and white lace kneeling at an altar. As I grasped at the memory, like a wave retreating from the shore, something important slipped away from me.
The woman’s admiring gaze drifted over my face. I wanted to touch her, tell her how much…how very much…I ached to kiss her black satin throat, but when I tried to lift my hand nothing happened. Terrified, I glanced at my hands. The bleached fingers were curled into dead claws. The hands once considered magic and beautiful were horrible.
Panic drew my knees toward my chest. “Oh, God, my hands can’t be paralyzed.”
The blow was physical, knocking the breath from me. If I’d been struck blind, even deaf, I could still play, but if my hands were paralyzed—I was lost. Music was my beloved mistress. My piano alone stood between madness and me.
My companion shook her head, refusing to meet my wild-eyed gaze. “Shush now, you going to be all right. Mother Superior’s gone to call for help.”
“Mother Superior?” Was I lying in a nun’s lap? I was in a church, and that seemed totally absurd for some reason, but I was too terrified to laugh. Crisp dark curls peeked from beneath a blue bandana, not a wimple. “You’re not a nun.”
She stiffened as if I’d offended her. “I come help the sisters out. I might be a nun some day.”
The woman’s expression softened. Lips pursed, she shook her head, dark eyes sad. Her pity mortified me. No one, since I’d been that boy in velvets and lace, had seen me cry. Swallowing tears, I squeezed my eyes closed. The other feelings she excited, I couldn’t deal with now. She stroked my cheek, and I remembered to breathe but refused to open my eyes. I couldn’t bear the sight or the scent of her.
An internal map—an anatomical image of flesh, muscles and veins—spread across my eyelids. Hours, days, years might have passed, but it was probably only a moment or two. Tingling needled my numb arms, swept into my fingertips, relaxing the ugly claws. Holding my breath, afraid to hope, I willed my right hand to lift, felt the sensation of movement and opened my eyes. The hand rose, hovered, flopped on my abdomen. Dried blood crusted a jagged hole in my black velvet coat. Fresh blood warmed the center of the wound.
Ah, another shade of the dusky red fragrance. My blood possessed a wild bouquet, almost feral, and completely different from the woman’s blood.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged book reviews, classical music, concert pianist, Double Dragon Publishing, giveaways, GoodReads, Linda Nightingale, paranormal romance, piano, vampire, vampires | Leave a Comment »
Join Karen Stivali on her whirlwind virtual book tour and comment for a chance to win a digital copy of your choice from Karen’s backlist. You’ll meet Karen later. Aren’t you anxious to hear about Decadence?
A book in the Spice Rack series.
In eight years of marriage, Eric Carlson has never forgotten to kiss his wife Jessica goodbye—until this morning. As Jessica runs her errands, all she can think about is the missing kiss. When Eric calls to tell her he thinks he left the toaster oven on, she rushes home, annoyed and afraid her house may be burning down. Instead of smoke and flames she finds Eric, looking hot and sexy as hell as he prepares fresh waffles.
Eric knows he and Jessica have been drifting apart. He’s bought the hot new product everyone’s talking about—the Spice Rack, guaranteed to spice up your love life. The jar he opens advises them to “Spend a decadent day indulging all your senses.” With the whole day ahead of them, a fridge full of tempting treats and the house to themselves for a change, that’s exactly what Eric intends to do—in the kitchen, on the washing machine, wherever the mood strikes. And Jessica’s got a super-steamy surprise for him too.
A Romantica® contemporary erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
He didn’t even kiss me goodbye. Jessica knew it was silly to get upset over something so minor, but she couldn’t help it. In the eight years they’d been married, she couldn’t remember another morning when Eric had forgone the farewell kiss. Sure, the kids were running amok, a sea of backpacks and lunchboxes, but that was normal. Eric saying goodbye with a wave was not.
While queued in the drop-off line at the elementary school, she flipped open the vanity mirror. She didn’t look like a beauty queen but at least she’d showered. Her skin was clear, her cheeks even a bit rosy from gardening the day before. She grimaced. I should have brushed my hair. Dark hair, wavy and out of control, pulled into a loose ponytail paired with t-shirt and yoga pants. I look like a teenager. Not exactly sexy. Frowning at her reflection, she heard the car behind her honk.
“Mom, pull up, it’s our turn.” Timmy, though only seven, had been a backseat driver for nearly five years.
“Sorry.” She inched the car toward the orange drop-off cone and stopped. “Have a good day, guys. I love you.”
“Love you too, mom,” the chorus of three came from the backseat as they scrambled out the door.
Taking a last quick glance in the mirror, she snapped it shut and eased back into the parking lot. As she was about to turn onto the main road, her cell rang. XXXXX, Eric’s ringtone. She fumbled in her purse and slid the purple case open. Holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder, she pulled onto the street, not wanting to get beeped at a second time this morning.
“Hey, sweetie,” Eric said. “Can you do me a favor?”
Sighing, Jessica shifted to keep the phone in place as she changed lanes. “What’s up?”
“I know you said you were going to the grocery store, but I need you to stop home first. I think I may have left the toaster oven on.”
“Can’t you go check?”
“I’ve got a really important meeting this morning. I need you to do it. Please?” She could hear the smile in his voice. The charming, irresistible smile to which she’d never been able to say no.
“Fine.” Even if you didn’t bother to kiss me this morning.
Did he just chuckle?
She hung up and tossed the phone back into her purse. Great. Now I have to go all the way home, which means I won’t get to the store for another hour. Not that it was a huge deal. With all three boys in school this year she had her days to herself. She’d been looking forward to that for years, but it wasn’t as fun and freeing as she’d expected. All the same responsibilities were there. The house still needed to be cleaned, dinner still needed to be made, laundry was always piling up. And she always had a stack of work on her desk. Freelance graphic design was the perfect work-from-home job and she could do it any time of day or night, but lately she felt as though everything was getting away from her. Somehow she’d had more structure to her days when the kids were home than she managed to have with them in school all day.
As she turned onto her block she couldn’t help but look for signs of smoke pouring from her windows. God, I hope he didn’t really leave the toaster oven on. What the hell was he even using the toaster oven for? Eric ate cereal for breakfast, though now that she thought about it she hadn’t seen him pour himself a bowl this morning. She’d been too distracted by the fact that he was wearing only pajama pants as he plodded around the kitchen. She’d been so busy the past few weeks with back-to-school shopping and beginning-of-term projects they’d barely spent any time together. Seeing him bare chested, hair tousled from bed, reminded her that it had been a while. Too long. Her stomach fluttered from a combination of longing for Eric and fear that her house might be burning.
Jessica slammed the door of the minivan shut, breathing in deeply to see if she could catch any hint of smoke in the air. Nothing. As she opened the front door, another scent greeted her instead. The incredibly delightful aroma of…waffles. Why does the house smell like waffles? She rounded the corner into the kitchen and saw the waffle maker on the counter with Eric poised before it, faded jeans slung low on his narrow hips, a t-shirt clinging to his muscular back, dark hair still damp from a shower hanging loosely into his eyes. A wave of heat washed over her, settling between her legs. Her mouth watered from thoughts of more than just a bite of the waffle Eric was lifting out of the grates.
“Perfect timing,” he said, grinning so wide the dimples on his cheeks were positively cavernous. Blue eyes twinkled at her, full of mischief.
“What are you doing?” She tossed her purse onto the counter, mystified.
“Celebrating Mother’s Day.” He plucked a strawberry out of the colander in the sink, swirled it in a bowl of what appeared to be freshly whipped cream, and approached.
“Mother’s Day is in May. It’s October fifteenth.”
“I know.” He held the plump red berry close enough that she felt the gentle brush of cream melting against her lips. “I was thinking it was something we should celebrate more than once a year.”
She curled her tongue around the cream-covered berry and gave a quick suck before biting off a piece.
The moan Eric emitted sent a tremor rolling down her body, making her knees weak. His lips were on hers before she finished chewing. The sweetness of his velvety tongue blended perfectly with the fruit and cream. This was already better than any Mother’s Day she could recall.
Karen Stivali is a prolific writer, compulsive baker and chocoholic with a penchant for books, movies and fictional British men. When she’s not writing, she can be found cooking extravagant meals and serving them to family and friends, who never seem to mind the excessive quantities she tends to prepare. She attributes her ability to multitask to the fact that she rarely sleeps, which gives her more hours every day. Prior to deciding to write full time Karen worked as a hand drawn animator, a clinical therapist, and held various food-related jobs ranging from waitress to specialty cake maker. Planning elaborate parties and fundraisers takes up what’s left of her time and sanity.
Karen has always been fascinated by the way people relate to one another so she favors books and movies that feature richly detailed characters and their relationships. In her own writing she likes to explore the dynamics between characters and has a tendency to craft romantic tales filled with sarcasm and sexy details. Although she writes in three genres (erotic romance, contemporary romance and women’s fiction) all of her stories are love stories with happily ever after endings.
Karen has published several erotic romance novels with Ellora’s Cave including two award winning stories: Always You (published September 2011, First Place Winner of the RWA Passionate Plume Award – 2012)Marry Me (published June 2012, First Place Winner in the NEC-RWA Bean Pot Reader’s Choice Award – 2013) and Decadence (July 2013).
Her works of women’s fiction, Meant To Be, and its sequel, Holding On, (published by Turquoise Morning Press in August and November 2012, respectively) both made the Best of 2012 list at Literati Literature Lovers.
Karen’s contemporary romances Then, Again (May 2013) and Leave the Lights On (coming November 2013) are published with Samhain publishing.
To learn more about Karen you can visit her website karenstivali.com where she blogs original recipes, sassy commentary on The Bachelor, and tidbits about her journey in the writing world. Karen can also be found attempting witty banter on Twitter
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Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged chocolate, contemporary romance, decadent, Ellora's Cave. Samhain Publishing, erotic romance, erotica, lobster, married eoritc romance, mimosas, romance, women's fiction | 4 Comments »
Welcome, Morgan, to Musings. You’re quite the handsome man…tall, blonde and blue-eyed. I just love men with long hair. Well, anyway, on with the interview. Have a seat and let me ask you my questions:
What is your greatest temptation:
In women: All of them! I love women to a fault. I am a vampire and women fire all my senses. Now, I am trying to be a good boy and focus my attentions on my beloved Isabeau and not finding it the challenge one of my kind would have expected.
In food: Blood straight up, no ice.
In clothes: The wardrobe on my profession is the tuxedo. At my country estate in Devon, I relax into tweeds and sweaters or riding gear. I’m an avid horseman.
What is your greatest weakness (example: buying shoes)? Women are my greatest weakness…and necessarily blood.
If you could have any kind of car, what would it be? I have the car I would drive, and Aston Martin Vanquish—black on black convertible—but I miss the candy apple red Jaguar XKE that drowned in Charleston’s Cooper River.
Your dream home – mountains or ocean? Both. I quite like Asheville, NC for mountains but my ancestral estate, Royal Oak, in Devonshire, England overlooks the ocean that batters its towers.
Who is your favorite historical figure? Me. No, seriously, my friend and king, Charles II, whom I followed into exile after the English Civil War when usurper robbed England
Our story belongs to Isabeau and me:
Morgan Gabriel D’Arcy is a classical pianist, an English lord and a vampire. He has everything except what he desires most—a woman he has loved from the day she was born—Isabeau.
For centuries, he has cherished a dream—a race of immortal crossbreeds possessing vampire strength and human morals. Ambition is not his most important motivation. Love is. When Isabeau, his chosen bride, was a child, he appeared to her as an angel and watched over her. As the Angel Gabriel predicted, Isabeau is now a brilliant geneticist. She has come of age, and Morgan is determined to marry her. However, many forces oppose them, not the least of which is Vampyre law. The Vampyre are viral mutations produced by a blood-borne pathogen that alters human DNA. Mating between human and Vampyre is prohibited. The offspring—
DarkeChildren—inherit a dangerous gene that drives them insane at puberty.
An enemy from Morgan’s distant past is stalking him. Paul d’Alembert seeks eye-for-an-eye justice, intending to kill Isabeau as once Morgan killed his beloved. In fact, his enemies are rapidly closing in on them. Will Morgan have time and an opportunity to make his dream come true—to sire a child on Isabeau? Will he outsmart his enemies, protect her and escape death himself? For the first time in eternity, the clock is ticking.
For almost four hundred years, I’ve witnessed miracles of technology and the political wars that reshaped the world’s destiny. I’ve seen much to hate and a great deal worthy of forgiveness. I was born May 29, 1632, the only son of the Earl of St. Averil and his Lady Ilsabeth de Gueraint D’Arcy. He died at the Battle of Naseby fighting with Charles I. My mother died alone in 1685. By that time, an unnaturally long youth had forced me to fake my own death for the first time. I watched from afar, unable to attend her funeral.
Yesterday, I was a celebrated pianist. I learned my art on the harpsichord from an Austrian genius named Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Later, I studied with Liszt, Ravel and Debussy. From the Duke of Newcastle then the Frenchman de la Gueriniere, I learned classical horsemanship.
Tonight, I am a wanted man. Mortal justice would hang me for a crime I did not commit. My brethren wish to destroy me for a crime I committed with willful intent.
It all began in December, a brief six months ago. Actually, my saga began in 1659 before the restoration of Charles II, but that’s another story…
This is our story—Isabeau’s and mine—our Folie à deux.
“Sinners’ Opera is a beautifully written love story with vivid imagery, dry humor, sarcastic wit, and sensuous love scenes. The descriptions of Charleston bring that city to life. It’s also a fascinating journey through the psyche of a man who’s lived through the centuries but is now willing to die for the woman he loves and to bring his kind into the light of the mortal’s world.
And thereby hangs this tale of love, deception, murder, and revenge.” READ ENTIRE REVIEW.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged book review, Double Dragon Publishing, Kindle, Linda Nightingale, new releases, New York Journal of Books, novel, paranormal, paranormal romance, romance, vampire | Leave a Comment »