Saturday, August 31, 2013

Cabal Hijack! Meet Honey Hickhouse

*Angelique Buttacheeco enters the studio and comes to a halt when she spies the woman she supposed to interview. She’s never seen another woman with breasts as big as her own, and she’s not too sure what to make of that. Sticking her chest out even more and lifting her hand to make sure her hair is as high as possible, she totters over on her five-inch heels. Her darling Rock told her to find out as much as she can about this woman, and she’ll do what he asks, despite knowing all she needs to know about this Holly whatever—like the fact she’s a hick who probably wouldn’t know a quality Hermes knock-off if it fell of the truck and squashed her.*

Angelique: “You’re Longfellow Broadshaft’s girl, right? Broadshaft, like in the brothers who know their way around sausages, right?” *Honey nods, eying Angelique’s boobs. Angelique sits down, crossing her legs to show off her scarlet and lime-green wedges, and signals the cameraman to start rolling.* “Good, so howyudoing?”

Honey: “Well howdy there Angelique! You sure are perty! Why, that outfit’s so spiffy it looks store-bought! Yeah, I’m Honey Hickhouse. Pleased to meet ya.” *Honey hops to her feet and thrusts her hand out to shake when her right boob pops out of her halter top. Honey giggles, tucking it back into her shirt and then reaches back out again to shake with the boob-tucking hand.* “Gosh-darn these titties! Now you don’t pay that boob no mind!” *Pumps Angelique’s hand with gusto. Angelique snatches her hand back and wipes it on the seat of her chair. Honey plops back down on her seat, boobs bouncing.*

Angelique: “You’re very…uh…b—”

Honey: “Bubbly? I get that sometimes.” *Honey nods her head, bouncing her pigtails. Angelique makes a sound that’s supposed to be a snort but is so high-pitched it sounds like a squeal. Honey looks at her funny, then shrugs.*

Angelique: “Uh, I was going to say ‘bouncy’, but I guess you’re bubby too.”

Honey: “Sugar you can call me whatever you want, just don’t call me late for the sack with my fella, Longfeller! Ya see, his skin’s sorta cold, he never sleeps, and I don’t think he has a heartbeat, but that’s got nothing to do with the fact that he’s pretty kinky in a city-boy way. He wanted something from me in bed that he was afraid for ask for, and I thought for sure it was “the butt”, but turns out he just wanted to bite my neck and suck my blood. But I made him do my butt anyway, just to be sure. You know what I mean, right? Right?” *Honey grins and Angelique hesitates, a faraway look in her eyes. Then she snaps to and gives her head a small shake in the negative.*

Angelique: Nope. Nuh-uh. No clue… Anyway, what’s your story?”

Honey: “Oh me? I’m just the best catfish jugger in the county! I’ve got the biggest jugs and everyone wants to get their hands on them, but my Longfeller helps me keep track of them.” *Excited, Honey bounces in her seat and her other boob pops out.* “Sorry ‘bout that! You just go right on ahead with the interview.” *She looks around the studio and yells,* “Does anyone have one of those black bars I can hold up in front of me to cover my titties? They just won’t stay put today!”

Angelique: *shooting daggers at Honey* “Fergitabout the damn boobs, will yah? Tell me about that Broadshaft guy you’ve been doing.”

Honey: “Oh, Longfeller, well he’s real sophisticated-like, and he doesn’t mind it a bit when my titties pop out, so he must be a real gentleman. But he’s a little kinky too, ‘cause he likes to bite my neck and drink my blood sometimes, but that’s not unusual, right?”

*Angelique actually looks a little shocked and nods. Honey frowns, but Angelique pushes ahead with the questions, a new gleam in her eyes. This is some kinky (and interesting) shit.*

Angelique: “Sooo…what else goes on when you do the boinkity-boink?”

Honey: “Oh, he’s the best! When he bites me, I have an orgasm on the spot! Besides, if that’s what shucks his corn, then I say giddy up. I’m a lady but I like to try to be just a little adventurous for my man once in a blue moon. Oooh, that reminds me, I need to pick up another party-size tube of anal lube…” *Honey rummages in the Crown Royal bag she’s carrying as a purse.* “That one I got last month is gone already.”

Angelique: “If you could change one thing, what would it be?”

Honey: “I would buy a bigger bra!” *Honey nods enthusiastically and both boobs fly out. Honey pretends not to notice. Angelique rolls her eyes and contemplates pulling down her spandex top to show the little hootchie what a real set of honest-to-God silicone tits looks like.*

Angelique: “Oh, you mean actually buy a bra?? Anyway, Roc… I mean the TV producer…said you had a story to tell me. Give me the short version, will yah? I have a plane to catch back to New Gu…I mean Denver…yeah, Denver.”

Honey: “My story is about whether or not a centuries-old city vampire and a honky-tonk country honey can accept each other’s unusual sexual needs. Now that sounds fun, don’t it?”

Honey Hickhouse is the congenial hick from Piper Trace’s story in the Fondled and Gobbled: Messier than Ever. And Angelique Buttacheeco is from Anya Richard’s gunshooting story in the just released, Fondled and Gobbled: One More Slurp.

You can find out all about Piper from her website:
Twitter @PiperTrace

And you can find out all about Anya Richards from her website:
Twitter @AnyaRwrites

Fondled and Gobbled: Messier than Ever

His plan was to find a mate to give him offspring, not to bear the children himself! Can a centuries-old city vampire and a honky-tonk country honey accept each other’s unusual sexual needs? The perfect dream lover is definitely too good to be true, especially when you’ve been drinking in an Irish pub. What’s a male erotic dancer actually thinking during that lap dance?

If you’re looking for the perfect romance with the perfect hero and heroine, this isn’t it! This is a series of spoofs, parodies, just-for-fun lighthearted take-offs. It’s for all us longtime, hard-core romance readers who can laugh at the clichés, purple prose and “suspend your disbelief” plot devices that haunt our beloved favorite genre.

An Exotika® erotica anthology from Ellora’s Cave

Friday, August 30, 2013

All Kinds of Heroes


I was flipping through the TV channels last night in search of a chick flick and ran across an old western. Don’t you just love John Wayne? North to Alaska is my favorite of his movies, but alas it wasn’t on so I kept searching, but it did get me thinking about the similarities between cowboys and the hero in one of my books,  CAN’T FAKE THIS. The story is about a divorcee ready to reenter the dating world. Anna Ryan is determined to be the best “product on the market,” which requires a lot more experience so she propositions sexy police officer Chase Harris to teach her how to make hot, passionate love as opposed to just having sex. He takes it a step further, instructing each lesson based on The Twelve Days of Christmas.

 Now how are cops and cowboys alike?

1.  The uniform:  There is something about a man in uniform. I mean, I’ve never seen a baseball player than didn’t have his behind uplifted to perfection in spandex. Same with a cowboy in his Wranglers. Policemen, too, look oh-so-yummy in their dark blue dudes. And hats. One mustn’t forget the wink they can send your way under the brim of a hat.

2.  The weapons:  Cops have their arsenal of pistols, batons, etc. and a rifle strapped to the back of a cowboy is rather sexy. Even knowing that cowboy may have nothing on him other than a small pocketknife is enough to make you want him. Why? Because we know they can protect us, and there is something comforting and exciting about that.

3.  The swagger:  It’s the confidence in which a cowboy and cop carry themselves that just make us want to swoon. Their very presence commands attention.

4. The equipment:  First of all, get your mind out of the gutter. Not that kind of equipment. Well…maybe. No, now I’m digressing. Cops have their car with loud sirens and cowboys have horses.  Alright, I’ll have to let the cowboy win this battle because nothing is hotter than a man at ease in the saddle. It exudes power, and therefore, complete sex appeal.

Now it’s your turn. Do you have any suggestions to compare the different occupations of heroes? I’d love to hear them!


Buy CAN’T FAKE THIS now. Kindle version on Amazon

Buy all versions at Loose, Id.  

Visit Casey at


Follow on Twitter caseyecrow and Facebook Casey Crow

Hot Cowboy Menage Boxed Set!

You can now get all the books in my bestselling THE BUCKLE BUNNIES SERIES in a complete Boxed Set at a fantastic price!

It's all about hot, hunky rodeo riders and the women who can't get enough of them! There are three books, including two m/f/m ménages and one f/f/m. They were originally released individually in ebook, and were so wildly popular, I decided to release them in a complete set. It's available at Amazon, B&N and ARe!
Buckle Bunnies Series Volume Boxed Set

This ride lasts a lot longer than eight seconds!

Barrel rider Daisy Hollins has run into bronc riders Sawyer Jones and Beau Monroe quite a few times on the rodeo circuit. She’s flirted with both of them, but things have never gone any further than that. Before an event, they're all too focused on the competition, and afterward, they’re usually too sore and tired to do anything but fall into bed.

When she runs into the two hot cowboys in the hotel bar at the Rodeo Finals in Las Vegas, however, there’s a different vibe in the air. When the flirting starts this time, it doesn't stop, and Daisy goes upstairs with both of them for a completely different kind of rodeo ride.


She's not going to sleep with either of them, unless she sleeps with both of them!

When two hot rodeo riders walk into Dallas O'Shea's bar, she can't help but notice them. Steer ropers Mack Carter and Ked Everett have set their sights on her, too, regardless of the fact that she's going to be mixing drinks until closing. Any other time, she would have jumped at the chance to rope herself a hot stud like Mack or Ked - what woman didn't like a pair of cowboy boots under her bed now and then?

When closing time comes around, both men are still there. She can't choose between the two cowboys, so she tells them she won't sleep with either of them, unless she sleeps with both of them. She doesn't think they'll take her up on the offer - they look like they'd rather shoot each other before bedding her together. But they surprise her by agreeing - on one condition. Afterward, Dallas has to honestly tell them who was better in bed. Two hunky cowboys, each motivated to please her like she's never been pleased before? How can a woman lose in a situation like this?

For Dallas, it's going to be a night like she's never had, and for Mack and Ked, the night ends with the cowboys getting a chance to demonstrate two of their greatest talents - roping and riding. Yeehaw!


This night is going to change the meaning of best friends forever!

When Shawna Barton's best friend and barrel racer Britt Miles comes to town, she can't wait to have a girls' night out. The two haven't seen each other in years and the usually shy, reserved Shawna loves hearing about her friend's exploits, especially her most recent sexual encounter with handsome bull rider Clay Winters.

Things take a sexy turn after they run into the man himself a little while later. When he asks them to go dancing, the two women can't refuse and before Shawna knows it, she forgets about her inhibitions and is out there bumping and grinding on the floor with Britt and Clay.

The night gets even more interesting when Clay suggests they take their little threesome back to his place for the kind of ride only a cowboy knows how to give a girl - or in this case, two of them!

Read an excerpt from each book here!

Buy it at Amazon
Buy it at Barnes & Noble

Buy it at All Romance eBooks


Hunky Heroes, Kickbutt Heroines, Unforgettable Romance

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Cabal Hijack! Meet Destiny

*Honey Hickhouse plops down in the seat across from Destiny, pigtails bouncing and eyes wide.*

Honey:  “Howdy do! I’m supposed to do an interview with a lady who has sex with a wolfman! Can you believe that?” *Honey cranes her neck, looking around the studio.* “I wonder what she looks like?”

Destiny: *clears her throat and raises her eyebrows*

Honey: “Oh shoot! You’re the wolfman-doin’ lady I’m supposed to talk to, ain’t ye? You’ll hafta excuse me. I don’t get off the farm much, or outta Longfeller’s bed. Know what I mean?”

Destiny: “I’m just going to go ahead and…” *Takes the microphone from Honey, who’s blowing into it and licking it just a little.* “My name is Destiny – well I should say my new name is Destiny. Basically, ever since I read a story about shifters that live in New Orleans I knew that was the life for me. I packed up and headed to New Orleans in search of the shifter clan. Even though the book said the shifters were just fictional characters, I knew differently—and I was right.”

Honey: “Let me get this straight. You went in search of a werewolf on purpose? I hope you brought yourself a shot-gun! You must be quite the hunter.”

Destiny: “I would say that I am totally awesome and super dedicated. I mean, who else would give up their life-family-work to hunt down a shifter pack?

Honey: *eyes narrowed and head cocked* “No one I know.”

Destiny: “But, you have to understand, Zane Leporidae is a total hunk. He’s the pack leader and total package. He owns The Shrine, the shifter bar in The Warehouse district in New Orleans. He’s got white blond hair and a killer body—a body that I love touching and stroking often. *giggles*

Honey: *eyes lighting up with recognition* “Oh, he’s hot! Now I’m starting ta git it. He sounds hotter than a tin roof in August! Soooo, what’s the sex like?”

Destiny: *fans self* “Hot. He leaves me breathless in the bed. We’ve had sex on just about every sturdy surface in his room. Now that I’m a member of the pack, I have started bartending at The Shrine. I’m hoping for an afterhours bar hump pretty soon. Everyone says that we fuck like bunnies.” *snicker*

Honey: “Hmmm, so if you could change one thing, what would it be?”

Destiny: “Although I’m happy with Zane, I think I would have tried to find the Bear Shifter bar. I’ve always had a thing for bears.”

Honey: *eyes wide, Honey reaches out to shake her hand* “You are one crazy lady.” *Honey’s boob pops out of her shirt* “Damn these titties! Who’s got tape?” *Honey wanders off*

Destiny is the girl who has her own life-size teddy in A.M. Griffin’s story in the anthology Fondled and Gobbled: Back for More. Honey Hickhouse is the congenial hick from Piper Trace’s story in the Fondled and Gobbled: Messier than Ever

You can find out about A.M. Griffin from her website:
Twitter @amgriffinbooks

And you can find out all about Piper from her website:
Twitter @PiperTrace

Fondled and Gobbled: Back for More

A bakery owner gets much more than she expected from her discount android’s determination to serve her. A lovelorn stalker does whatever it takes to have the muscle man of her dreams.

Two alien warriors experience the inconveniences and pleasures of being forced into human bodies. A woman has always known she was destined to join the paranormal world of shifters, and tonight all of her dreams—or nightmares—come true.

If you’re looking for the perfect romance with the perfect hero and heroine, this isn’t it! This is a series of spoofs, parodies, just-for-fun lighthearted take-offs. It’s for all us longtime, hard-core romance readers who can laugh at the clichés, purple prose and “suspend your disbelief” plot devices that haunt our beloved favorite genre.

An Exotika® erotica anthology from Ellora’s Cave.

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Naked Sushi on Instagram Video

You know that breathless feeling you get when that wild ride is over too soon?

Like you wanted more?

Me, too. That's how I was feeling about Vine and six-second videos. Loved the thrill, the spontaneity, but I just wanted more.

So I got it.

Instagram video.

Now I've got 16 seconds to tell my story.

So here goes. The first few lines of NAKED SUSHI:


A Delicious Mistake

One day I’m getting canned from my job as a computer programmer for having wild copy-room sex with a guy I thought was the new game designer. The next, I’m crashing my ex-boss’s business lunch in a creative attempt to get my job back and men are eating sushi off my naked body!

That’s when I realize a) My ex-boss is a hiding corporate secrets b) Hot copy-room guy is an undercover FBI agent c) I would make a kick-ass spy!

Then Special Agent Hottie brings out his cuffs, and things get really interesting…

Coming in October 2013 from Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Harlequin:

NAKED SUSHI is available for pre-order on Amazon!

Copyright © 2013 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited
Cover copy text used by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises Limited.

Text Copyright © 2013 by Jina Bacarr
Cover Art Copyright © 2013 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited
Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A. Cover art used by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises Limited. All rights reserved.

He's So Sexy
Dream Valley Music
Composer: Michael Stephen Decker
Publisher: Shockwave-Sound.Com

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Something Wicked...

Oh Jesus.

If I had the sense God gave a gnat, I wouldn’t be approaching this dark house in an isolated section of Dublin, Ireland by myself…at night…armed with nothing but an Ipad and a recorder. Not that a gun or sword—or hell, a freakin’ nuclear bomb—could protect me from what waits on the other side of this door. Let’s face it. If the creature I’m here to see is in a bad mood, I’m screwed.

And soooo not in a good way.

One more knock on the door. Just one more, than story or no story, I’m outta here…


A petite, slim female with long, dark hair stands motionless inside her open doorway. Eyes the color of brilliant lightning stare at me, unblinking. Measuring. As if determining which of my body parts she should cleave off first.

Sinéad, the cruxim—the Black Angel—who hunts  in the territory of Dublin for vampires, the cruxim’s mortal, or rather immortal, enemies.

And the person—using that term veeery loosely—I’m here to interview.

Sinéad: (crossing her arms) Well aren’t you brave?

Me: Umm…excuse me?

Sinéad: Just showing up here… And assuming I won’t kill you on sight.

Me: Er, uh…wow. I think that’s against the rules…isn’t it? I’m human. You protect me, not slice ‘n dice me.

Sinéad: (shakes her head) You chroniclers. You totally miss the meaning behind “secret race”. And for the record, I don’t protect you. I hunt and execute vampires who just happen to find you a tasty snack. Let’s face it, if they decided to become vegetarians tomorrow, there would be a surplus in crops and you’d be on your own.

Niiiiice. I would respond, but as she shuts the door and turns around, the sight of the scabbard strapped across her back with the hilt of a silver gladius jutting out steals my voice. Nervously, I circle my throat with my hand and heave a silent sigh of relief. Whew. Still intact.

Me: (clearing my throat) Duncan MacLeod has a watcher, you have me.

Sinéad: (snorts) Turn off your fear, chronicler. The stink of it is offensive. I haven’t killed you…

“Yet” hangs in the room like a string of gaudy Christmas lights in mid-February. I swallow—hard—and try to summon a smile and hide my fear. Snicker. Riiiight. I’d forgotten the female is an empath as well as a fierce warr—

Me: (gasp) What the hell?

Sinéad: (whirling around in a crouch, her hand reaching behind her head) What? What?

Me: (horrified, pointing to the table in the living room) Potato chips. Cereal? What the hell? You drink vampire blood not, not…snacks! And what’s that on television? Television? Since when did you start watching—what is that? Twilight?

Sinéad: (slowly straightening and grumbling something totally unintelligible) Mimeumingow.

Me: What did you just say?

Sinéad: (whirling around with a snarl) I said, I’m human now. All I do is sit on the couch, eat and watch television. And cry at those damn Hallmark commercials.

Maybe my face says all the WTF racing through my head because she huffs out a breath and shoves a hand over her head. Another shock. On any other woman the gesture would be frustration, but cruxim don’t do frustration. They’re emotionless. They don’t do…anything.

Sinéad: Stop moving your mouth up and down like a fecking fish. Shite.

Fecking? Shite? Fu—Ohhh. The Irish accent through me off for a bit… Then the import of all she’s confessed rolls over me like that first wave of 4 am Black Friday shoppers at Walmart.

Me: Good. God. You’re, uh…I mean, what happened?

Sinéad: (sigh) A wounded hippogryph male. Blood. The only kind act I’ve ever done in my life and now I’m…this. Humans are right. No good deed goes unpunished. Now I’m a damn walking meat suit.

God. I feel so sorry for her. So sorry I don’t even take offense at being called a “walking meat suit”. I probably will be later, but not now.

Me: You should be out hunting. But obviously…

Sinéad: (viciously rubs the heels of her palms over her eyes. I can’t help but wince) All I’ve known for three hundred years is fighting, killing…blood. Now I’m in an unfamiliar body, with out-of-control emotions and an appetite for flat, deep fried potatoes. I’m so. Damn. Lost.

Me: (whispering) Are you scared?

Sinéad: (drops her arms and stares at me) I’ve never been afraid. Never feared dying. I still don’t. But I am terrified of every morning when the sun rises and it’s another day in this skin. Another day when I can feel my soul screaming…

As she trails off an uncomfortable silence fills the room. She’s probably horrified at the display of emotion, and I… Well I just don’t know what to say. Hallmark doesn’t have a card for “I’m sorry your life just went to hell in gasoline drawers. Thinking of you!” Yeah. Words are pretty much inadequate. Really there’s only one thing I can give her...

Me: Your secret’s safe with me. I won’t tell anyone.

Sinéad: (her eyes narrowing) A chronicler? Not telling a story?

Me: (shaking my head) Not this one. It’s yours to tell.

There’s a slight softening on her face that I would have never thought I’d see on one of these Black Angels.

Sinéad: (bows her head) Thank you then.

Me: No problem. I’m going to, uh, y’know, go. Leave you to your (I do a finger crinkle at her snack buffet and television marathon) whatever.

I turn around to leave, but damn… I just have to ask. I have to!

Me: One thing. (she arches an eyebrow) Are you Team Edward or Team Jacob? (My eyes widen as she slowly reaches for the sword behind her back) Gotcha. Nunya, right? Nunya bizness. Okay. See you, um, well. Yeah. See you.

I rush out of the room and the house as quick as my boots can slap the floor. Jesus, Mary and Joseph. I need a drink.

Buy Bitten by Ecstasy here!

Dark Judgment, Book Two
A brutal attack left Bastien Sarris for dead. But a chance encounter with a mysterious female drags him back from the brink of death—and transforms the hippogryph healer into a monster he doesn’t recognize. Now a terrible hunger consumes him—one that is becoming impossible to satisfy. Desperate for a cure, he hunts the cruxim who cursed him to a hellish existence. But the petite warrior ignites a fierce desire for her body that overwhelms the sweet call of blood.

For three hundred years Sinéad lived and hunted as a cruxim—a winged vampire hunter. But one sacrificial act stripped her immortality, leaving her human, vulnerable and unprepared for the reappearance of Bastien in her life. The hippogryph is harder and colder than she remembers…and he triggers an onslaught of need within her that is as powerful as it is unfamiliar. She craves his kiss, his touch. Yet even as she surrenders to this newfound passion, she faces a crucial decision—betray the man she’s come to love and regain her immortality or save Bastien and condemn herself to a human life and death.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Guest Author: Tessie Bradford

I'm deep in the writing cave this week, crunching away at the next Gaslight book, so I thought I'd treat you to a smoking-hot excerpt from my good friend, Tessie Bradford, and her new Science Fiction Menage Romance! Please show Tessie lots of love. Everyone have a great week!

Tessie: I’m excited to share a peek into my new release, Megan’s Men. It is available at
Resplendence Publishing and All Romance e-Books, and coming soon to Amazon and other retailers.

At times it’s difficult for two partners to make a relationship work. Can one Earth woman and three Slaterine men find love and everlasting happiness together? You bet they can!!  

Megan’s Men
Copyright: Tessie Bradford, 2013


Megan Lynch has had a very bad year. Her husband took off with most of their assets and a twenty year old bimbo. She lost her job and has nowhere to live. Accepting a management position at a research facility on a distant planet was supposed to be the first step to a new start. But now her transport has been cancelled indefinitely. She’s stranded, exhausted, defeated, and utterly pissed off.

Garfor, Rork and Loban came to Earth for a one day trading mission. Finding their woman alone and upset in the travel port is both a blessing and extremely upsetting. She is unfamiliar with their ways, and Garfor is forced to use deceit to get her onto their ship and off the planet. With only a few days to convince her she is destined to be theirs forever, all three men are more than willingly to rise to the challenge.

Excerpt (ADULT) :

Loban let out a low whistle. “This is spectacular.”

“I’m glad you like it,” she said with a giant grin. “How about you pour the wine?”

“Spirits before midday, I like the way you think.” He patted her ass as he walked by toward the table.

“You take such good care of us. I have no idea how we got along without you.” Garfor kissed the tip of her nose.

“Well, you’re stuck with me for good, now. Go make yourself comfy.”

Megan went to Rork, who still stood in the doorway. Tension radiated from him. “I’m sorry I took so long to say the words.” She rested her hand on his arm. “I was worried. The last three weeks have been amazing, but what if you guys realized I wasn’t the woman you thought I was? Maybe we’d find out we couldn’t compromise, or I’d piss you off so badly you’d decide I wasn’t worth the effort, or—”

He grasped the back of her head with one hand while wrapping his other arm around her waist. His mouth came crashing onto hers and his tongue swept past her lips. Rork’s kiss was powerful, demanding and hot as hell. Megan whimpered and raked her fingernails down his back.

When he ended the kiss, Rork gave a tug on the handful of hair he was holding, tipping her head so she looked up into his eyes. “No more, Megan. No more doubts. You’re perfect.”

“Hardly,” she said with a chuckle.

“You’re perfect for us,” he clarified.

“Make love to me,” she whispered.


Megan was taken aback by his instant refusal. She could feel his erect cock against her abdomen.

“You’ve had a harrowing experience. Aren’t you hungry?”

“Not for food.” She grabbed his ass cheeks.

“What if we feed you?” he suggested seductively.

“Hmm.” She pretended to consider his proposal. “Sounds like a reasonable compromise.”

They joined Garfor and Loban on the floor by the table. Each of her men took turns giving her bites and stared at her mouth as she accepted their offerings. Megan licked and sucked their fingers more than technically necessary. Feminine power surged through her as their irises darkened and their cocks sprang to attention.

“I could have a sip of wine now,” she suggested.

Loban lifted the glass to her lips. A small amount trickled down her chin. He leaned forward and tasted it off of her skin. She cupped the sides of his face, bringing his mouth to hers. As they kissed, he brushed his fingers across her hardened nipples. Monumental desire flowed through her. She was so in love and so excited for their future together her heart pounded wildly.

“This meal is officially over,” she announced, scooting back from the table.

After arranging herself on a pile of pillows, with extra ones beneath her head, Megan let her knees fall outward, boldly displaying her pussy to her men. She played with her breasts, lifting and squeezing them then pinching her nipples. When they didn’t come to her, she moved her right hand to her cunt and began rubbing along her lips and clit. They watched her in silence until she thought she’d go out of her mind with need. She slowly slid a finger in and out of her channel.

“I find it ironic that there are three men in this room and I’m reduced to fucking myself,” she commented, flexing her hips.

“But you’re doing such a fine job of things, we weren’t sure you wanted our participation,” Garfor said with a suggestive smirk.

“If my mates don’t get over here right now and take care of my needs, I’m going to get very surly.”

Loban laughed. “Gods, we can’t have that. You’re downright scary when you’re mad.”

In an instant, Rork was on her left, Loban her right, and Garfor between her legs. She reached out and began stroking Loban’s penis. He covered her hand with his so they could do it together. She turned her face toward Rork and opened her mouth in a wanton invitation he accepted immediately. Garfor let out a lusty grunt and drove his cock into her pussy.

Megan was in horny heaven. Making love with them individually was incredible, but when they were all together, connected, sharing their bodies and their love, the experience was awe-inspiring. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on all of the different sensations.

An All Romance Best Seller

Creating the planet Mesta and the Slaterine culture was both challenging and exhilarating, and there’s so much more I want to explore. Books #2 and #3 are coming in 2014!!
Thanks so much for having me here today!


Friday, August 16, 2013

Every Girl Needs a BFF

I love my best girlfriend. She's been on my lately because she's having a rough go right now so I thought I give her a shout out and say thank you. She's the one I call when I need advice and more often than not, need to vent. She never judges -- although I've done some pretty stupid things -- and accepts me for me. I can always count on her to tell me the true, even if I don't want to hear it.

The same is true for the relationship Anna and Marisol have in  CAN'T FAKE THIS from Loose, Id. Anna knows how she feels deep down, but needs her best gal pal to confirm it. 

Here's a an excerpt:

Marisol and I sat on her back porch, drinking hot chocolate on another relatively warm afternoon for December. God, I loved the South, where sixty degrees isn’t unusual for the height of winter. Even so, a flame blazed in the fire pit located in the center of her coffee table.

“Have you made a decision?” Marisol asked. She pushed around the remnants of the homemade smores our kids created earlier as she searched for more marshmallows to add to her cup. “It’s been over three weeks, and you were wrong. You said I’d pine for two weeks, but I’m still moping around barely able to function.”

“Has he contacted you?”

“At first, he would text every couple of days. Nothing big. He asked how I was. Stuff like that. I kept it light and distant, then today he sent me a message asking how was he ever going to get over me.”

“Did you reply?”

“No. I wanted to tell him, I’ll let you know when I figure out how I’m going to get over you, but then I got another message. Said he missed me all the time and it wasn’t just about sex. That he simply loved being with me.”

Marisol’s mouth dropped. “He’s seriously in love with you.”

I nodded.

“How do you feel?”

I took a big gulp of hot cocoa. “I’m attracted to him, but there’s more. I love him. He makes me laugh and feel good about myself. Chase cherishes and protects without dominating. He lets me be me and loves me for that.”

“Do you still think it’s a rebound thing?”

“No. I’ve done some serious soul searching, and all I could come up with is yeah, Frog number one should have been the jumping off board, but why dive again when I’m already over my head in love?”
Marisol sat her cup down and leaned forward to garner my full attention. “Take a chance. Don’t be afraid and risk happiness for the sake of obeying the post-divorce books.”

I rubbed my forehead, letting her words sink in.

“Call him.”

I glanced at her.

“Better yet, go see him.”

Do you a story about you and your best friend? An embarassing moment? Mine involves a fender bender in high school with another BF. I wasn't driving, but distracting my friend singing Elvira. I pretty much made her run into this guy 's truck, and he had such crush on her. Well, maybe not so much after she scratched his pride and joy. Are there any touching stories you'd like to share? I'd love to hear about them!

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Vine 3: The Naked Sushi "V" Experiment

The V experiment.

Sounds could be a zombie hottie who has a hard-on for the heroine...

Could be a wild burst of lightning that gives the heroine superpowers to attract every male she desires...

Alas, my experiment has nothing to do with sex.

Or does it?


I've made short, sexy Vine videos for NAKED SUSHI. So what do they have to do with my experiment?

I've noticed that my Vine videos attract readers, so I'm experimenting to see what works, what doesn't, what readers like.

Who knows? I may start a Vine Revolution!

Which Vine video do you like better? I'd love to hear your comments!! 

Vine #1:

Vine #2:

Pepper O'Malley, a spy wannabe, teams up with an FBI hottie to take down her ex-sleazy boss. Where does the sushi come in? Pepper goes undercover as a live sushi model wearing nothing but yellow pom-pom chrysanthemums and a banana leaf.

And yes, the hero eats sushi off her body.

NAKED SUSHI is available for pre-order on Amazon!

Saturday, August 10, 2013

A whole new distraction!

A Very, Very Pleasurable Audiobook App

UD - Vibease


official website

Curling up with a good book.

It’s one of life’s little great pleasures.

In fact, here’s proof...

Enter a judgment-free zone for Vibease, a new mobile app that syncs up erotic audiobooks with hands-free vibrators for the most distracting reading experience ever, available online now.

So, audiobooks. You know how those work. And vibrators. You may have heard a thing or two about how those work. Well, imagine an audiobook app that sends wireless signals to a sex toy that makes it vibrate every time you get to a “good part” in the story. That’s this. That’s totally this.

Anyway, in case you have an acquaintance who’s curious, all they need to do is: download the app; select one of the compatible prosaic accomplishments like Fifty Shades of Rose or Dark Prince, Eternal Love; and just before pressing play, place the accompanying Bluetooth-enabled piece of waterproof silicone... wherever they’d normally place a Bluetooth-enabled piece of waterproof silicone.

Of course, if they’ve already read Fifty Shades of Rose and Dark Prince, Eternal Love, you can always just skip that whole interactive audiobook thing and use the app as a vibrator remote control.

It’s good to have options.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Sex over 50?

Earlier this year, the spouse and I both hit the big 5-0. We also became grandparents, And while we might not be as voracious as we were when we met at age 21, we're both still very much sexually alive. So it never occurred to me that this was anything out of the ordinary. Still, it isn't something you see in books all that often.

Then a little while ago, one of my publishers sent out an email about erotica over 50. I answered that I AM 50, which does surprise a lot of people, since I have kind of a baby face and a youngish attitude. (This picture was taken in January 2013, just so you know.) No, I was informed, they were looking for folks who had written erotic romance with the protagonists who'd passed the half-century mark. They found very few. Later, I saw a call for stories from that publisher, Ellora's Cave, asking specifically for this.

Huh. Is there a market for this? Most women I know who are my age and older read sexy books about younger characters. In some cases, those characters are the ages of their kids, even grandkids. There aren't a lot of books with steamy sex among the silver-haired set. A while back there was a bunch of Older Woman/Younger Man stories, but that doesn't float everybody's boat. What about older/older stories? I happen to think my 50 yr old hubster is pretty damn hot, in bed and out.

It had been a while since I'd written any erotic romance. For a couple years, I've been mostly focusing on paranormal and steampunk, but recently, a publisher asked me specifically to contribute to an e-rom anthology. The story I wrote was accepted, and will be the Mr. November story, (title pending) in Decadent Publishing's Calendar Men series for 2014. It was fun to do, and I remembered a lot of things I like about writing e-rom. So add 1+1 and I'm thinking about writing an over 50 e-rom for this submissions call. Could be a lot of fun. Could be a total flop. I'm just really curious to find out.

So what do you think? Is there a  market for this? Would you read it?

Friday, August 2, 2013

What it Means to be a Southern Lady

I ran across this article Black Belt Living, a small-press magazine that focuses on life in the Black Belt which is a stretch of land going through Central Alabama that's known for having rich, black soil. AKA "where the cotton grows".

The article was too cute not to share. BTW - it's a lot easier to read if you channel your inner Scarlett O'Hara voice.
                                                                          ~ Casey Crow

Hello Dahlings...As you are probableh keenly awayah I'm sitting right now on my back patio havin' my usual Sataday aftanoon Mint Julep. Rory, my dear, devoted husband, is at the country club playin' that awful game we call golf--I declare I don't what gets into that man. Hittin' a little dimpled ball around and chasin' after it, sweatin' profusalayh and smellin' like an old dirtah dawg. Doesn't make a lick of sense.

I'd ratha be right where I am, out in the sun by the swimmin' pool gettin' a little culuh and readin' Faulknah. Sista Mary Sayrah is comin' ova lata for tea, if I'm not too tipsy. Did I say that? Fuhgive me...that's not very ladylike of me. I guess it runs in the familah. You probableh know my distant cousin, Tallulah Bankhead, the actah from up at Jaspah? Let me tell you somethin' dahlings, she was a hot mess, and I do mean a hot one! Well, I've tried to live my life a little bit different than my lovely cousin, dahlings. I only drink fowah cocktails a day, and I'm down to a pinch-a-snuff a week.

Now, where was I? Oh yes, what it means to be a Southun' lady. I've decided ten rules that ladies of Dixie should always adheah to. Would you like to heah them? Of course you would dahling.

Numba wowun. Always, always, always turn youh fanny away from teh crowd when youh excusing yourself in a movie theatuh. You nevah want to show your hindend to innocent bystandahs.

Numba two. Nevah talk about your husand at teh beauty pahlah. Those old hens are doin' nothin' but looking to stir up trouble.

Numba three. Keep two feet on the flowah when you're on the sofa. That means if you're with a gentleman, honey or watching the home shoppin' network.

Numba fowah. Nevah date a man that won't open the cah dowah for you dahling. That means a man isn't raised right. If Rory doesn't open my dowah, well, I just stand there until he does. One time, he got all the way home befowah he realized I wasn't in the cah.

Numba five. Nevah chew bubble gum in church. I always notice who's a-chewin, honey during the pastoral prayah.

Numba six. Wear a girdle.

Numba seven. Always put tannin' lotion on youwah skin, honey. You don't wanna look like a pug when ya fowaty.

Number eight. Don't work if you don't have to. Life's too short, dahling, to be piddlin' around in some office somewheyah.

Number nine. Alway weah tennis skirts that come down past your knees, honey. The ladies these days, merciful heavens, the skirts they weyah would make a sailah blush.

And finally, dahlings, numba ten. Nevah, undah any circumstances, put an earring anywheah on ya face, dahling. Some of these girls look like theah face ran into a tackle box. Lawd.

I'm going to have one moah toddy and then I've got to get my beauty rest befowah high tea then dinnah.

That's all fuh now dahlings. Ta-ta!