By: Casey Crow
Most of you know I have lots of jobs - author, day job in sales, and professional model/actress, but the one that has been keeping most busy is Image Consultant. Oh, I'm still doing my pageant coaching with that, but I've branched out and now working with an up-and-coming Nashville recording artist, Brent Harrison. I'll do interview him for NAC soon, but my latest trip to Nashville got me thinking about some great country love songs. After all, we writers are romantics at heart. Who among us hasn't had our book couples have "a song" or something playing in the background in a scene. Since since I'm Southern and the country genre is an entity in of itself down here, I've list a Top 10 for that, but not everyone loves country so I've created a general list, too (in no particular order).
Country:
1. We were in Love - Toby Keith
2. The Dance - Garth Brooks
3. Crash my Party - Luke Bryan
4. I Need You Know - Lady Antebellum
5. Still the One - Shania Twain
6. Crazy - Patsy Cline (yeah, it's an oldie, but goodie)
7. What Hurts the Most - Rascal Flatts
8. Love Story - Taylor Swift
9. It's Your Love - Tim McGaw & Faith Hill
10. I Still Miss You - Keith Anderson
And here's my Top 12 Break-up Country songs because we need a climax in a book, right?: (Had to add a few extras. There are just too many fantastic tear-jerkers.)
1. Strange - Reba McIntrye
2. Should've Said No - Taylor Swift
3. Best Days of Your Life - Kelly Pickler
4. Taking Off This Pain - Ashton Shepherd (this CMA artist who is a former dance and tumbling student of mine!)
5. She Wouldn't Be Gone - Blake Shelton
6. How Do You Like Me Now - Toby Keith
7. Strong Enough - Blackhawk
8. First Time For Everything - Little Texas
9. Getting Stronger - Sara Evans (can I just point out that she's married to former University of Alabama quarterback Jay Barker that I went to college with? How nifty!)
10. If You're Going Through Hell - Rodney Atkins (my mantra. LOVE THIS!)
11. Once Upon December - Taylor Swift
12. Don't Think I Don't About It - Darius Rucker
Top 10 from other genres:
1. Touch You Once - from Pretty in Pink (Who sings this? You'd think I'd as much as I listen to it on my Ipod)
2. Edge of Glory - Lady Gaga (okay, so it may not the mushiest song, but it's cool and this is MY list. LOL)
3. When You Lie Next to Me - Kate Coffey
4. Sometimes When We Touch - Rod Stewart (okay pretty much any one of his songs will do)
5. Glory of Love - Chicago (same as Rod)
6. Time of My Life - from Dirty Dancing (not that new Black Eyed Peas mess. Think Patrick Swayze. *sigh*)
7. I Need You Tonight - INXS
8. OMG - Usher
9. We Belong - Pat Benetar
10. Crazy for You - Madonna
Break up Top 10:
1. Skater Boy - Avril Lavine
2. I Got Over You - Chris Daughtry
3. What Do You Want From Me - Adam Lambert
4. If You Only Knew - Shinedown
5. Heart Don't Break Even - The Script
6. Here Without You - 3 Doors Down
7. We Belong - Pat Benetar
8. Stronger - Kelly Clarkson
9. Happy - Leona Lewis
10. Eh Eh - Lady Gaga
Let me know your top choices!
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
When your world is upside down...
© Chaoss | Dreamstime.com |
That life is laughing at you like a silly clown?
That everything you do goes astray
And you wonder when the mean fairy will go away
We've all been there, some more some less
And me, too, I haveta confess
But even when you're down
Turn that frown upside down
It's easy to do
So on the count of two!
A smile can help save your day
And make you feel better right away.
Best,
Jina
Have you tried the new Kindle Unlimited? It's Netflix for ebooks -- they're offering a free 30-day trial!
Download the free trial and you can read Virgin Kiss, my very short story about a nightmare first kiss in high school...for FREE!! See how Riley saves the day...
Virgin Kiss from Jina Bacarr on Vimeo.
www.jinabacarr.com
www.facebook.com/JinaBacarr.author
https://twitter.com/JinaBacarr
http://www.pinterest.com/jbacarr
Friday, July 18, 2014
Do you Dance?
By: Casey Crow
I've been in dance mode lately. I just wrapped up my dance recital. Yes, I still take class after all these years. (I used to own a studio in my hometown and I've got a degree in dance so it's dancing is apart of me.) Although ballet is more my thing, I now take an advanced adult jazz class that's a serious workout and seriously hard - think triple pirouttes and gran jetes. We even have a NYC Rockette in class when she isn't kicking it up in Manhattan!
I was also watching "So You Think You Can Dance" this week. I love that show. Well, duh, but all this has me reminiscing about DANCE WITH A MILLIONAIRE - especially since I'm about to start a YA dance book as Casey Layne.
To get me back in the mood to write about dancing, I thought I share a snippet:
Southern belle Campbell Layne is the rising star of the Manhattan Ballet Theatre, providing she lands an upcoming principal role. The stage heats up, however, when Rod Carrington steps in and teaches her more than she ever expected!
Determined as she is to stay focused on the audition that will push her into stardom, dazzling attorney Rod Carrington proves to be a major distraction especially when he ends up teaching the college class she’s taking in her spare time. Campbell humiliates herself on their first date, but that doesn’t stop Rod from whisking her off to Italy and turning her into quite the vixen. Too bad he also used his powerful influence to secure the lead for her. Now she’ll never know if her talent is real or “bought” by the man she thought was the love of her life.
“It leaps right off the pages and into your heart. I will remember and reread. I look forward to Ms. Crow’s storytelling in the future. I just love the sassy, Southern girl meets cool rich guy. This book is well worth the read.” My Erotic Reviews
Here's a mainstream excerpt:
“Thank you for attending the performance and for your generous donation to MBT.” His dark eyebrows shot up a notch, highlighting a definite mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Why did they have to be the exact shade of turquoise as the Caribbean Ocean at sunset? Stunning.
“That’s well-rehearsed, Miss Layne. Tell me, though, do you turn on the Southern belle charm for all your fans or only the male ones?”
Her mouth fell open, but thank goodness she had the presence of mind to snap it shut. “How dare you? First of all, I’m from Alabama which makes the accent genuine, and secondly, that’s…that’s the rudest, most ungentlemanly thing to say.”
“I never said I was a gentleman and readily admit to be undeserving of your sweet façade. I’d much prefer the real you.”
She propped her hands on her hips. “And precisely what, may I ask, do you assume to be the real me, seeing as our acquaintance has a life span of what? Thirty seconds?”
Rod glanced at an expensive-looking gold watch. “Forty-five.” He stepped closer.
She did not see that coming and stumbled back only to become trapped between the wall and his body. The hard, cold stone competed against his warm, harder presence. Damn it, the latter won out. She ground her traitorous fingertips into her palms in an effort to prevent them from brushing away the stray curl that fell across his forehead.
The hem of his jacket brushed her hip as he moved in to splay his hand over her waist. The pressure built as he gathered her an inch closer. She caught a faint whiff of his cologne. The clean, fresh scent permeated the air and reminded her of the Southern pines back home, but this was not the time to reminisce.
“In fact, I’d like to get to know every inch of you.” Another sharp tug had her chest pressed against his rock solid form.
Her blood boiled in a delicious rhythm. Obviously, the vibrator thing was getting old if this jerk was turning her on. She made a mental note to ask her best friend, Heidi, to set her up on a date. Any man would do—as long as it was not Rod.
She flexed her fingers and pushed against his shoulders. “Let go of me, you arrogant pig.” A lion, cougar, leopard—anything powerful—seemed a more apt description though.
Rod chuckled and loosened his hold. A fraction. Enough to insert his finger between them. It followed the line of fabric at her shoulder slowly, very slowly, across her chest. As he glided over her cleavage, he said, “But, my dear, you’re mistaken. It’s confidence I possess.”
“More like cockiness.” Even as she said it, Bella couldn’t take her gaze off his finger or steer her attention from the intense hunger sweeping through her. She instinctively arched her back, lifting her breasts to silently beg for more.
“Either way, but I always get what I want, and in case you need me to spell it out”—he slid his finger up her throat to tilt her chin, forcing her to look at him—“I. Want. You.”
He uttered the words with such conviction, her breath hitched. No, stopped. She literally thought she might pass out. Swoon, like one of those Regency ladies she’d thought of a moment ago, only she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Feigning haughty sophistication was not in her repertoire, but there was a first time for everything. She raised a brow and allowed her gaze to wander his body as he’d done to her. The black tux cut a dashing figure, making her mouth water for a taste of what lay beneath. She imagined herself undoing each of the black buttons on his starched, white shirt. His bowtie was a little askew. She reached to straighten it, brushing against his neck. She heard his breathing deepen, sensed, rather than saw, the quickening of his jaw. She inwardly smiled and wiggled her toes in a victory dance, but those stupid, treacherous fingers battled back, wanting to still the muscle with a gentle caress. She balled her fists in reprimand, uncaring that her short nails dug into her palms.
When she reintroduced her eyes to his, she shot him what she hoped was a contemptuous glare. “Take your hand off me,” she said slowly and deliberately. She made a dramatic showing of enclosing her fingers, one at a time, around his wrist and tugged his finger away from her boobs.
Nothing happened. Well, almost nothing. He managed to do that trick when one eyebrow lifts higher than the other.
She sighed loudly and exceedingly unladylike. Then she pulled. Hard.
Finally, he broke contact by approximately six inches when twelve would have been much closer to the acceptable personal space limit. Too late to hide her puckered nipples, she still folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot in perfect tempo with her index finger. “An apology would be appropriate at this time.”
“Ah, but then I’d have to, in fact, be sorry.”
He said that? Seriously? She just stood there, gaping. It would’ve been so nice to find the words, any words to speak, but nope. A boa constrictor squeezed her throat.
“What? No response? I assume that negates the possibility of you actually wanting an apology.”
Again, robbed of speech. She felt like a fool, but her mind remained as blank as the sky on a cloudy night. So much for feigning haughty sophistication.
“Um…” Jackpot! At last. Okay, it wasn’t a three-point goal in the final seconds of the game, but her voice hit a few decibels nevertheless.
Rod’s deep chuckle reverberated throughout the alcove as he captured both of her shoulders. He laughed at her. Worse, he was going to kiss her. She knew it. Right here, right now. In front of everyone. A complete stranger. Well, not completely, she knew his name at least. Knowing the first name made it all right, didn’t it?
Lord, what am I thinking? She did not go around kissing strangers. Hell, she didn’t go around kissing people she knew. What would her mama think? She’d die of shame, that’s what.
But heaven knew she wanted to taste those beautiful, full lips. She purely ached to run her fingers through his wavy, chestnut hair and slide her hands inside his coat to see if his abs were as hard as she imagined they would be. She closed her eyes and barely swallowed the lump stuck in her throat before licking her lips, preparing for the inevitable.
****
So obviously Rod jumps right on in there with Campbell. Is that how you like your man, or do you the slow and steady kind? I'd love to hear your stories and since you know I love dancing of all kinds, let me hear stories about those, too!
DANCE WITH A MILLIONAIRE BUY NOW from Amazon or from Siren Publishing
DANCE WITH A MILLIONAIRE EXCERPTS
Visit Casey at http://www.caseycrow.com
Follow on Twitter @caseyecrow and Facebook Casey Crow
I've been in dance mode lately. I just wrapped up my dance recital. Yes, I still take class after all these years. (I used to own a studio in my hometown and I've got a degree in dance so it's dancing is apart of me.) Although ballet is more my thing, I now take an advanced adult jazz class that's a serious workout and seriously hard - think triple pirouttes and gran jetes. We even have a NYC Rockette in class when she isn't kicking it up in Manhattan!
I was also watching "So You Think You Can Dance" this week. I love that show. Well, duh, but all this has me reminiscing about DANCE WITH A MILLIONAIRE - especially since I'm about to start a YA dance book as Casey Layne.
To get me back in the mood to write about dancing, I thought I share a snippet:
Southern belle Campbell Layne is the rising star of the Manhattan Ballet Theatre, providing she lands an upcoming principal role. The stage heats up, however, when Rod Carrington steps in and teaches her more than she ever expected!
Determined as she is to stay focused on the audition that will push her into stardom, dazzling attorney Rod Carrington proves to be a major distraction especially when he ends up teaching the college class she’s taking in her spare time. Campbell humiliates herself on their first date, but that doesn’t stop Rod from whisking her off to Italy and turning her into quite the vixen. Too bad he also used his powerful influence to secure the lead for her. Now she’ll never know if her talent is real or “bought” by the man she thought was the love of her life.
“It leaps right off the pages and into your heart. I will remember and reread. I look forward to Ms. Crow’s storytelling in the future. I just love the sassy, Southern girl meets cool rich guy. This book is well worth the read.” My Erotic Reviews
Here's a mainstream excerpt:
“Thank you for attending the performance and for your generous donation to MBT.” His dark eyebrows shot up a notch, highlighting a definite mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Why did they have to be the exact shade of turquoise as the Caribbean Ocean at sunset? Stunning.
“That’s well-rehearsed, Miss Layne. Tell me, though, do you turn on the Southern belle charm for all your fans or only the male ones?”
Her mouth fell open, but thank goodness she had the presence of mind to snap it shut. “How dare you? First of all, I’m from Alabama which makes the accent genuine, and secondly, that’s…that’s the rudest, most ungentlemanly thing to say.”
“I never said I was a gentleman and readily admit to be undeserving of your sweet façade. I’d much prefer the real you.”
She propped her hands on her hips. “And precisely what, may I ask, do you assume to be the real me, seeing as our acquaintance has a life span of what? Thirty seconds?”
Rod glanced at an expensive-looking gold watch. “Forty-five.” He stepped closer.
She did not see that coming and stumbled back only to become trapped between the wall and his body. The hard, cold stone competed against his warm, harder presence. Damn it, the latter won out. She ground her traitorous fingertips into her palms in an effort to prevent them from brushing away the stray curl that fell across his forehead.
The hem of his jacket brushed her hip as he moved in to splay his hand over her waist. The pressure built as he gathered her an inch closer. She caught a faint whiff of his cologne. The clean, fresh scent permeated the air and reminded her of the Southern pines back home, but this was not the time to reminisce.
“In fact, I’d like to get to know every inch of you.” Another sharp tug had her chest pressed against his rock solid form.
Her blood boiled in a delicious rhythm. Obviously, the vibrator thing was getting old if this jerk was turning her on. She made a mental note to ask her best friend, Heidi, to set her up on a date. Any man would do—as long as it was not Rod.
She flexed her fingers and pushed against his shoulders. “Let go of me, you arrogant pig.” A lion, cougar, leopard—anything powerful—seemed a more apt description though.
Rod chuckled and loosened his hold. A fraction. Enough to insert his finger between them. It followed the line of fabric at her shoulder slowly, very slowly, across her chest. As he glided over her cleavage, he said, “But, my dear, you’re mistaken. It’s confidence I possess.”
“More like cockiness.” Even as she said it, Bella couldn’t take her gaze off his finger or steer her attention from the intense hunger sweeping through her. She instinctively arched her back, lifting her breasts to silently beg for more.
“Either way, but I always get what I want, and in case you need me to spell it out”—he slid his finger up her throat to tilt her chin, forcing her to look at him—“I. Want. You.”
He uttered the words with such conviction, her breath hitched. No, stopped. She literally thought she might pass out. Swoon, like one of those Regency ladies she’d thought of a moment ago, only she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Feigning haughty sophistication was not in her repertoire, but there was a first time for everything. She raised a brow and allowed her gaze to wander his body as he’d done to her. The black tux cut a dashing figure, making her mouth water for a taste of what lay beneath. She imagined herself undoing each of the black buttons on his starched, white shirt. His bowtie was a little askew. She reached to straighten it, brushing against his neck. She heard his breathing deepen, sensed, rather than saw, the quickening of his jaw. She inwardly smiled and wiggled her toes in a victory dance, but those stupid, treacherous fingers battled back, wanting to still the muscle with a gentle caress. She balled her fists in reprimand, uncaring that her short nails dug into her palms.
When she reintroduced her eyes to his, she shot him what she hoped was a contemptuous glare. “Take your hand off me,” she said slowly and deliberately. She made a dramatic showing of enclosing her fingers, one at a time, around his wrist and tugged his finger away from her boobs.
Nothing happened. Well, almost nothing. He managed to do that trick when one eyebrow lifts higher than the other.
She sighed loudly and exceedingly unladylike. Then she pulled. Hard.
Finally, he broke contact by approximately six inches when twelve would have been much closer to the acceptable personal space limit. Too late to hide her puckered nipples, she still folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot in perfect tempo with her index finger. “An apology would be appropriate at this time.”
“Ah, but then I’d have to, in fact, be sorry.”
He said that? Seriously? She just stood there, gaping. It would’ve been so nice to find the words, any words to speak, but nope. A boa constrictor squeezed her throat.
“What? No response? I assume that negates the possibility of you actually wanting an apology.”
Again, robbed of speech. She felt like a fool, but her mind remained as blank as the sky on a cloudy night. So much for feigning haughty sophistication.
“Um…” Jackpot! At last. Okay, it wasn’t a three-point goal in the final seconds of the game, but her voice hit a few decibels nevertheless.
Rod’s deep chuckle reverberated throughout the alcove as he captured both of her shoulders. He laughed at her. Worse, he was going to kiss her. She knew it. Right here, right now. In front of everyone. A complete stranger. Well, not completely, she knew his name at least. Knowing the first name made it all right, didn’t it?
Lord, what am I thinking? She did not go around kissing strangers. Hell, she didn’t go around kissing people she knew. What would her mama think? She’d die of shame, that’s what.
But heaven knew she wanted to taste those beautiful, full lips. She purely ached to run her fingers through his wavy, chestnut hair and slide her hands inside his coat to see if his abs were as hard as she imagined they would be. She closed her eyes and barely swallowed the lump stuck in her throat before licking her lips, preparing for the inevitable.
****
So obviously Rod jumps right on in there with Campbell. Is that how you like your man, or do you the slow and steady kind? I'd love to hear your stories and since you know I love dancing of all kinds, let me hear stories about those, too!
DANCE WITH A MILLIONAIRE BUY NOW from Amazon or from Siren Publishing
DANCE WITH A MILLIONAIRE EXCERPTS
Visit Casey at http://www.caseycrow.com
Follow on Twitter @caseyecrow and Facebook Casey Crow
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
Miss Smarty Pants
Since everything in our world today moves so fast, why not short poems that tell a story? And will put a smile on your face...
Miss Smarty Pants
a poem
Jina Bacarr
Were you a good girl in school?
Did you follow all the rules?
Learn to spell and read and write?
And everyone called you teacher's delight?
I bet you ignored the boys
And all their fancy toys
But secretly wanted to ride with the top down
And got stuck instead with the class clown
Those days are gone, said and done
You're all grown up and in the end you've won
You got your schoolin'
And no foolin'
Smart girls finish first in the game of life
In spite of all our youthful strife
When you text that hottie you met online
You know how to spell and ain't that divine.
Best,
Jina
www.facebook.com/JinaBacarr.author
https://twitter.com/JinaBacarr
http://www.pinterest.com/jbacarr
a poem
Jina Bacarr
Were you a good girl in school?
Did you follow all the rules?
Learn to spell and read and write?
And everyone called you teacher's delight?
I bet you ignored the boys
And all their fancy toys
But secretly wanted to ride with the top down
And got stuck instead with the class clown
Those days are gone, said and done
You're all grown up and in the end you've won
You got your schoolin'
And no foolin'
Smart girls finish first in the game of life
In spite of all our youthful strife
When you text that hottie you met online
You know how to spell and ain't that divine.
Best,
Jina
www.facebook.com/JinaBacarr.author
https://twitter.com/JinaBacarr
http://www.pinterest.com/jbacarr
Labels:
good girl,
hottie,
hunk,
school,
sexy guy,
smart,
smartphone,
smarty pants,
spell,
teacher,
text,
texting
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
Guest Author Jane Leopold Quinn
Cindy is still in deadline mode, so guest author Jane Leopold Quinn is filling in, talking about her newest release. Enjoy!
A PROMISE AT DAWN
by Jane Leopold Quinn
Thanks to the Naughty Author Chicks for having me on their
blog today. I have a combination of
books at publishers and Indie published books.
One of the best parts of being self-published, besides getting more of
the royalty pie, is having complete control over your own cover. The cover for this book, A Promise at Dawn, is by far the hottest one. But it was perfect for this story. The sunrise, the time of day that Faye first
sees Gil running on the beach, is in the upper left corner of the cover, but
you may not notice that because of the lovers below. Faye may be widowed and still grieving but
she can’t resist watching the hunk running on the beach every morning at dawn. Gil feels he must paint this mysterious woman
at the moment the sun peeps over the watery eastern horizon to capture her
essence and her heart. Their age
difference is a problem…or is it?
BLURB
Their affair
was scorchingly sensual
Faye Burke, recently widowed, retreated to the coast
of Maine to grieve and reassess her future. Her favorite part of the day is
watching the sun rise out of the Atlantic Ocean. It’s also when the man she
considers her guilty pleasure runs along the beach.
Gil Farrelly, a successful painter, is trying to get
his career back on track after the studio fire that destroyed everything. He
starts his creative juices flowing every day by running on the beach. The
lovely woman who watches him also gets his juices flowing and he’s determined
to reinvent his career by painting her.
Faye’s combination of maturity and sensual
vulnerability intrigue Gil and he wants to immortalize her on his canvas. She’s
flattered, aroused and ultimately frightened of the emotions he incites. He
claims not to care he’s younger by twelve years but she believes sooner or
later he’ll come to his senses and seek out women his own age. Can Faye conquer
her fears? Can Gil prove to her it’s not age separating them but her fear?
EXCERPT
“Was your studio here in this area?”
“Uh huh. Like you, I came up here a couple years ago
to find myself. Since the fire, I’ve been doing some landscapes. You’re the
first portrait I’ve wanted to do in a long time.”
She lay on her back, tilting her face to the sun,
savoring the warmth. She’d popped a slice of apple in her mouth, and he watched
her chew and swallow it. “Faye,” he began, shifting his body over hers.
She sighed and opened her eyes.
He didn’t waste any time. Through eyes barely open, he
watched her lashes close, watched her lips part. He kissed her softly. With
light touches and delicate sips, he tasted the sweet stickiness of the apple on
her lips.
She didn’t respond. It wasn’t a rejection. It just
wasn’t a response.
He braced his hands on either side of her shoulders,
holding himself off her breasts so the only place their bodies met was their
lips. It took all his control to go slowly.
At first she didn’t touch him. Then at the same time
she began to kiss him back, she placed her palms on his chest, their warmth and
pressure highly arousing. She slid her arms around him and slowly pulled him
down on top of her.
Yes.
He took that for permission and rolled to his back,
taking her, draping her over his body. He wrapped his arms around her, one hand
cupping her head lightly, giving her the opportunity to break away if she
didn’t like it. She stayed, and he deepened his kiss. His tongue explored her
mouth, claiming her, delving into her welcoming and passionate response.
Her moans rose sweetly from her throat, then became
deep growling noises. Her hands cupped his face, held him. She massaged his
tongue with hers. His cock surged in response.
He rolled again putting her beneath him and slid his
thigh between hers.
Her body quivered, her hips undulated, pressing upward
against his.
He moved his fingers to the buttons of her sweater and
flicked them open one by one, spreading the sides to reveal a pretty white lacy
bra with, thank the good Lord, a front clasp. Her eyes opened, met his with an
erotic, pleading gaze. The clasp easily opened, and her full, pale breasts
spilled free.
“Gil,” she gasped his name. There was no question in
it, just pure desire.
Slipping his hands under her shoulders, he pulled her
up, brought his mouth down, and latched onto a beautiful strawberry shaded
nipple as erect and hard as a little clit.
He uttered a soft grunt at her sharp cry, drawing on
her, loving the taste and feel of the tightly furled bud.
She clawed at his shoulders, writhing under him. “Yes,
yes, God, yes.”
He delicately clamped her nipple between his teeth.
“Yes. Harder.”
He rocked the tip and lashed it with his tongue.
“Oh. The other one,” she begged with a breaking sob.
She fisted her fingers in his T-shirt, yanking, tugging at it.
He released her nipple and pushed himself up.
“No,” she cried.
He gripped the back of his T-shirt and pulled it off
over his head, tossing it aside. “I want to feel your skin on mine,” he
murmured, and teased her other nipple.
She gave herself so completely over to the torment of
his mouth. He could feel her fingernails on his shoulders. The harder she
scored, the deeper he drew on her nipple. They fed off each other, off the
ecstatic storm of their emotions. She cried his name, rolled her head back and
forth on the blanket, stiffened, and covered her mouth with the back of her
hand. He felt her orgasm in the vibration of the guttural groan from deep in
her belly.
His heart soared, his lips tipped in an elated smile.
Just giving her this pleasure satisfied him more than he thought possible. She
was an amazing combination of reluctance and responsiveness. She thought her
age might make her less attractive? Ha!
A Promise at Dawn is available at Amazon
Amazon Reviews
"Good short story! Faye and Gil have
very hot chemistry, and their story is heartwarming. I was surprised at the
character development in such a short offering. Faye had suffered such a huge
loss, and we were drawn in along on her new path in life."
"Ms Quinn paints a detailed portrait
of a woman re-awakening after the loss of her husband. Her emotional state is
handled quite deftly. This story has pathos, passion and humor woven together.
Gil and Faye's story unfolds quickly and it's a scorcher."
Bio
Sensual fantasies were
locked in my mind for years until a friend said, "Why don't you write them
down?" Why not, indeed? One spiral notebook, a pen and the unleashing of
my imagination later, and here I am with more than a dozen books published. The
craft of writing erotic romance has become my passion and my niche in life. I
love every part of the creative process — developing characters, designing the
plot, even drawing the layout of physical spaces from my stories. My careers
have been varied — third grade school teacher, bookkeeper, secretary — none of
which gave me a bit of inspiration. But now I'm lucky enough to write romance
full time — the best job in the universe!
Please check out my blog for a listing of all my books.
Jane
Leopold Quinn
My
Romance: Love With a Scorching Sensuality
Saturday, July 12, 2014
Reinventing and now Resurrecting Myself
In some of my bios, I mention the idea of the writer’s
theme. It’s not the theme of a book; it’s the theme of all that author’s books. Whether or not we writers realize it, an
all-over pervasive theme usually emerges in every book by a particular author.
I’ve come to realize my theme has to do with characters who reinvent
themselves.
I’m well qualified to write it too. I’ve reinvented myself
many times—both as a writer and a person. I began by attending Massachusetts
College of Art, hoping to become a famous artist and travel the world showing
in premier galleries. Then I got real.
Reinvention number one: From artist to nurse. Nursing
doesn’t allow for a lot of creativity. In fact, it’s actively discouraged. You
follow doctor’s orders, period. And if they
get “too creative” it’s your job to reel them in. But as you might have
guessed, I’m a creative person and that trait doesn’t stay buried easily. Most
artists will tell you they become very uncomfortable—physically, emotionally,
apiritually—if they can’t create. I’m no different. To satisfy my creative
urges, I took a course in screenwriting. It wasn’t as messy as painting and I
had since married a neat-nick.
Reinvention number two: From nurse to writer. I tried a
couple of other things along the way. I trained as a hypnotherapist and an
interior designer, but for some reason my clients eventually began smoking or
gaining weight again, and it was discouraging. I never earned a dime with my
Interior Design training. There were just too many pitfalls, so I used my
knowledge to design my own home and offer opinions to friends—if asked. But it
was writing that stuck.
Reinvention number three: From hot suspense to hot comedy. I
was a published author. I had a few devoted followers and some great reviews,
but something was missing. My joy and spontaneity. I wasn’t having as much fun
as I would have liked. Writing these books had turned into work. Then I had an
experience that changed me again. I wrote my first erotic comedy. I let myself
go buck wild, and it just poured out of me. What resulted was an off-the-wall
novella that every reader and reviewer loved. It was nominated for a CAPA and
an Eppie award. And I loved it too, plus I loved the experience of writing it.
The story was Oh My God.
Reinvention number four: From short to long: I had heard
that what readers and publishers wanted were not one, but several related books
in a series. So I tried to come up with an idea for a hot humorous series.
Let’s see…write what you know…use your voice…and try to make it a long, rich storyline
that can go on and on and on…
The Strange Neighbors series set in Boston began and was followed
by a spin-off series. Flirting with Fangs. These were loooong books and took
forever to write. Six months each. Yup. Six months of my life for one of those
suckers and a voracious reader will devour it in a day. What? Wha…?
I’m in mid-reinvention again. I want to write shorter and
more. My story Oh My God was happily resurrected, rewritten to dovetail nicely
with a storyline by my dear friend Dalton Diaz, and then we were fortunate enough
to score a bonus story by USA Today Bestseller Terry Spear!
Thus, Gods Gone Wild was born and Oh My God was reborn. I
hope you love it as much as we do!
Gods Gone Wild
Ashlyn Chase
Dalton Diaz
Bonus story from USA Today Bestselling Author Terry Spear
Two Gods are in big trouble with Zeus. Gods will be gods and
when these two taunt Pele for their own entertainment, she erupts, literally,
creating a whole new Hawaiian island. But Zeus is not amused and must teach
them a lesson they won't forget. Who knew their punishment would lead to
finding the loves of their lives?
Great Zeus! (Dalton Diaz)
Epimetheus knows he screwed up. Well, he knows it since Zeus
pointed it out with a lightning bolt or two. He’s willing to take his
punishment like a Titan, but all bets are off when his beloved dead wife
Pandora shows up. Pandy has no memory of him. Epimetheus has no powers, and no
forethought. What could possibly go wrong?
Oh My God (Ashlyn Chase) Rewritten and expanded version of
2009 Eppie nominee, same title
The Greek God of wine, women, and party, falls off a balcony
during Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Now he has amnesia. All he knows is that they
call him 'Big D', and he drinks too much and ought to give up alcohol for Lent.
Mandy and Brenda flashed Dionysus right before he fell.
They're nice enough to take him to an AA meeting, and then back to their homes
until he recovers his memory. Fortunately, they're not too nice to be naughty.
Bonus Story: Goddess in Training (Terry Spear) Previously
published 2010 Indie, same title
In a game of the gods, librarian Lisandra, who has never
been loved, is chosen to be the goddess of fertility. The demi-god of pleasure,
Assarian is ordered by Zeus to train her in the hallowed halls of Mount Olympus
to prove to his wife, Hera, goddess of marriage, mortals and immortals alike
only need be physically satisfied to find fulfillment, to which Hera
disagrees—all creatures must have love to be whole.
This book is getting lots of 5 star reviews! If you enjoy
erotic comedy, please pick up a copy and feel free to leave a review of your
own.
Amazon http://tinyurl.com/qdpsaby B&N http://tinyurl.com/q5cytzn
Amazon http://tinyurl.com/qdpsaby B&N http://tinyurl.com/q5cytzn
Thank you!
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
July 4th: Miss Cupcake and the Hottie
© Stephanie Frey | Dreamstime.com |
There once was a girl named Cupcake
Who really, truly loved to bake
Up at six she'd rise
Butter cake to devise
With eggs, sugar, and flour
She worked hard at this early hour
Adding golden rich butter and vanilla
Dreaming of a handsome fella
For she wanted to catch a man's eye
Who would love her and make her sigh
Then one glorious Fourth
A handsome stud came forth
Who couldn't get enough
Of her cupcake stuff
And whisked her way to the Land of Butter
Where there they were married and lived happily ever utter...
Happy Fourth of July!!
Jina
www.jinabacarr.com
http://jinabacarr.wordpress.com
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Guest Author: Tina Donahue
TAKING EVE
by Tina Donahue
Blurb:
A willing slave
to possession, punishment, pleasure…
Dreams of a manor where submission and dominance once ruled draws
Faith to hypnotherapist Colin Danes. Potently virile, he looks remarkably like
her most cherished master from a past life. Desire smolders in his eyes,
proving he’s never forgotten her.
Their carnal dance continues in the present and leads to their
past when she was known as Eve. Through hypnotherapy, Colin brings her back to
the Victorian era, a hidden estate where she eagerly submits to whatever he and
her other noble masters crave. The exquisite discipline of the strap. Being bid
on and mounted each night. Displayed and used for the enjoyment of all.
Most will take her. One will try to imprison her. Only he will be
her true master in that life and this.
Excerpt (Adult):
Taking
her arm, Spencer brought Eve to the table so the mirror caught her in profile.
He removed her bands and chains, tossing them aside. The fetters clinked
against the snowy marble floor. He pulled off her fur boots, leaving her with
nothing except the white satin ribbon.
“Bend
over the table,” he ordered. He took off his derby and shrugged out of his
greatcoat, putting both near the lone chair. “Spread your legs wide and
present—“
“She’s
not to be harmed,” Anthony interrupted.
Eve
looked from man to man, feeling their struggle for power, Anthony’s indignation
that he wasn’t in charge of her.
“No,
my lord.” Spencer spoke as dismissively as he had earlier. “However, I have to
examine and prepare her for tonight’s event, the same as I’ve done in the past
with all the others. You’re well aware of that—are you not, my lord?”
Anthony
clenched his jaw.
“Perhaps
his Lordship would care to announce the girl’s arrival to the rest,” Spencer
said. “Then await our entrance as he’s done before.”
Anthony
seemed ready to argue the point, but didn’t. He left the room, slamming the
door.
The
thunderous sound had barely died out when Spencer edged close, his size and
heat intimidating Eve, but also stirring something within her. A desire for a
firm hand, a strict taskmaster.
Carefully,
Spencer brushed Eve’s hair aside, his fingertips lingering on her shoulder. His
touch light. Pleasant. Her breathing picked up. She waited for more. He leaned
down, his cheek close to hers, his powerful body clearly restrained, his scent
one of soap, wool, leather.
“Do
as I ordered,” he whispered. “Be quick about it.”
She
had no choice. Eve knew she wanted none. Unnerved, she obeyed, palms on the
table, nipples touching the polished surface, legs parted widely, ass lifted.
Her
position was deliberately revealing, meant to show Spencer both of her
openings.
Eve
lowered her face.
“No,”
Spencer said. “Look at yourself and me in the glass. Watch what I do to
you…what you can’t stop.”
Heat
stung Eve’s cheeks. She turned to her reflection, seeing a face she scarcely
recognized, one feverish with excitement and lust. Her hair was a black cloud
drifting over her naked shoulders.
With
his hands on his narrow hips, Spencer regarded her naked ass as a lord
might—arrogant and unhurried—his pace telling her what she already knew. He
ruled as all men did. As a woman, she yielded. Even to him.
Eve’s
cunt grew damp with wanting.
He
finally moved to the other side of the table, his stiffened shaft straining
against his trousers. His arousal filling Eve with a curious combination of
excitement and dread.
Would
he take her before her other Masters did?
Would
he whip her?
He
returned to his original spot, a roguish look on his face. “Wider,” he ordered.
She
spread her legs even more.
“Arch
your back. Present your lovely arse to me.”
Eve
strained to meet his demands, her body obedient even as her mind rebelled. She
was more fully exposed to him than she’d ever been to Anthony.
A
faint smile touched Spencer’s mouth. Minutes passed as he studied her
scandalous pose.
Her
skin reddened from the fire’s warmth and the turmoil building within her.
He
dropped to one knee for a better look at her cunt and anus. His breath skimmed
her thigh.
A
low moan caught in Eve’s throat. She tried to swallow but couldn’t. She saw his
arousal…and her own.
“You’re
quite wet,” he murmured.
BIO:
Tina Donahue is an award-winning,
bestselling novelist in erotic, paranormal, contemporary and historical romance
for Samhain Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, Siren Publishing, and Kensington. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites
have praised her work. Three of her erotic romances (Adored, Lush Velvet Nights, and Deep,
Dark, Delicious) were named finalists in the 2011 EPIC competition. The
French review site, Blue Moon reviews, chose her erotic romance Sensual Stranger as their Book of the
Year 2010 (erotic category). The Golden Nib Award at Miz Love Loves Books was
created specifically for Lush Velvet
Nights, and two of her titles (The
Yearning and Deep, Dark, Delicious) received
an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition (2011 and 2012). Take Me Away and Adored both won second place in the NEC RWA contest (different
years). Tina is featured in the 2012 Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market.
She was the editor of an award–winning Midwestern newspaper and worked in Story
Direction for a Hollywood production company.
FB
Fanpage: https://www.facebook.com/TinaDonahueBooks
Email:
tina@tinadonahue.com
Twitter:
http://twitter.com/tinadonahue
Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/tina.donahue.75
Triberr:
http://triberr.com/tinadonahue
Pinterest:
http://pinterest.com/authortina/my-books/
Amazon
author page: https://www.amazon.com/author/tinadonahue
Samhain Author Page: http://store.samhainpublishing.com/Tina-Donahue-pa-1630.html
CONTEST
Please leave a comment. Tina
will be choosing one winner randomly from the comments section. The winner gets
her choice of one of Tina’s backlist ebooks – FIFTEEN IN ALL – contemporary,
paranormal, suspense, ménage. From this list:
1. Adored – RWA
award-winning; EPIC 2011 Finalist; 4 Stars RT
2. Deep, Dark, Delicious
– EPIC 2011 Finalist; Holt Medallion Award of Merit
3. Lush Velvet Nights –
EPIC 2011 Finalist; Golden Nib Award
4. In His Arms – SIX 5
Star Reviews; 4 Stars RT
5. Sensual Stranger –
2010 Book of the Year (erotic); 4 Stars RT
6. The Yearning – Top
Ten Bestseller
7. Take Me Away – #1
Pick, Miz Love Loves Books
8. Unending Desire –
Best Book Rating LASR
9. SiNN – Nominated for
Book of the Week LASR
10. Sinfully Wicked –
Magnificent – Romancing the Book
11. Claiming Magique – Top Pick – NOR
12. Illicit Desire –
Four Stars Romantic Times
13. Come Fill Me – Five
Stars – Guilty Pleasures
14. Losing Control -
Four and a Half Stars - Sensual Reads
15. Shameless Desire -
Four and Half Stars - The Jeep Diva
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