In comments, and in 300 words or
less, give us a snippet from your novel that will bring a smile, incite a giggle, or make us laugh out loud. Don't forget your buy link and
website/blog link. Have fun!
From The Witchy Wolf and the Wendigo by Rose Anderson http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004XDGWL6 Here an ancient shaman encounters the effects of beer for the first time. ………………………………………… Ash felt odd. The sensation was not unlike the altered mental state brought about by the ordeals of his training, when his mind ventured in another world while his body stayed in this one. His earlier jumble of thoughts returned. It is the beer. The beer is bringing this sensation. It was only a guess but the odd feeling was intensifying since the last two glasses.
Knowing he had to resume his wolf form at Livie’s home, he took a deep breath and shifted, but his inebriated mind was not concentrating and he ended up with a raven’s head atop his man’s body. He tried again. Forgetting that he still wore clothes, he found himself a small bird, pinned and struggling under the heavy garments that had fallen to the ground in a heap. He shifted into a feathered snake before taking the form of a mouse and working his way out of a sleeve.
The movement caught the attention of an owl on its nightly hunting foray. Just as it was about to swoop low on silent wings, intent on nabbing the large field mouse, a naked man with a mouse tail and whiskers appeared. The owl, clearly startled, flew off into the night. Laughing, Ash raised his arms and yelled after it, “This is not your night, my brotherrrr!”
Tail and whiskers absorbed into his changing form and once again bare skin grew feathers. He shifted into a raven — a six-foot-tall raven. Laughing at himself, he made his body small and flew fast to Livie’s home, albeit not in a straight line. …………………………………………… Sample this story and the rest for FREE https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/333971 Subscribe to my blog for updates and more http://calliopeswritingtablet.com/
From TORN: Jess is walking her four year old son, Rory, to his nursery school.
Jess wondered how much of what she said penetrated, but still pointed out the bluebells and primroses growing wild amongst the undergrowth on the slopes of the hill. Her son seemed far more interested in talking about Buzz Lightyear, a subject long since exhausted for her. As he chattered on, she simply agreed and nodded and said: ‘Oh’ and ‘Mmm’ from time to time. Suddenly he said, ‘We looked for the wooden enemies?’ Thinking this was something new to do with Buzz’s adventures, she asked him to repeat himself. ‘Wooden enemies!’ he said loudly, as if she were deaf as well as stupid. ‘Danny took us for a walk in the woods. Me and Sasha. To find the wooden enemies!’ ‘Yes, sweetheart. But what are they?’ ‘Wooden enemies! And violence!’ Rory sighed deeply. ‘But they were only … like … flowers.’ Comprehension dawned and she laughed. ‘They were, Mummy! Really! Danny showed us! Sasha wanted to pick some, but he said she shouldn’t. He said we should leave them where they grow for other people to see.’ ‘I believe you. Wood anemones and violets,’ she translated, still smiling. Was it in fact Danny who’d called the flowers wooden enemies? Sometimes the pronunciation of multi-syllable words could be a problem for him. Memories of how she’d spent Friday, and its aftermath on Saturday morning, needed little prompting. Shame and self-disgust were now qualified by resentment at the inequity of life. Recalling James’ analogy with waiting for a bus, she smiled. When you wanted one, none came along, when you didn’t two arrived simultaneously.....
From Seven Sensuous Days - Book Four - Appointment with Pleasure - coming soon from Ellora's Cave..
“How’d you get her to do that?” Tessa asked.
Logan picked up the male dog and scratched him behind the ears. “Do what? She’s just sitting there on her haunches.”
While sucking a pacifier. It was pink with glittery sparkles embedded in the plastic. The pup held it in her mouth just as an infant would. “Did you teach her to suck on that thing?”
“And ruin her teeth?” He smiled. “Molly came that way from the breeder. He said she took the pacifier from his daughter. His wife let Molly keep it because it was the only way to quiet her down.”
Aw. “Poor sweetie.” Tessa slung her purse’s strap over her shoulder and scooped Molly into her arms. The pup breathed and drooled around the pacifier. “You missed your momma?”
She made a doggy noise that sounded like contentment or love. Tessa rubbed her nose against the sweet thing’s snout. Molly let the pacifier drop from her mouth, then licked Tessa with abandon.
She laughed. “Who’s the big boy?”
Logan glanced at his fly. Tessa elbowed him playfully, filled with the confidence he’d given her.
“Oh,” he said. “You mean him.” He lifted the pup in one hand. “This is Jack.”
“You’re a doll too,” Tessa said, shaking Jack’s paw.
He squirmed in Logan’s hand, wanting freedom.
“Can I take Molly into the kitchen with me?” Tessa asked, retrieving the pacifier and offering it to her. “While I make us lunch?”
“Sure. If you can keep her in there, you’re a better man than I am.”
Tessa tilted her head and regarded Logan’s full, luscious length. All those hard slabs of muscle. One hundred percent male prime. “I doubt that. What do you like to eat?”
He focused on her unprotected cleft and equally naked nipples. “Surprise me.”
Thank you so much for this opportunity!!! Caught In The Act (A humorous short story) by Teresa Reasor My children are healthy, happy, well-adapted kids and they each have a life. But Jimmy, my husband, and I have none. In fact, parenthood has pretty much become, to borrow a phrase from my thirteen-year-old, a time suck. Now, don’t get me wrong. I love my children. If I had to throw myself between them and a moving car, I’d do it. I carried them for nine months, and suffered through long, slow, painful labors to bring them into the world. I have a lot invested in those three, emotionally, physically, and financially. Certainly too much to give them away. But of late I’ve begun to wonder when this hamster wheel will stop so I might eventually get off. Pun intended. Yes, I’m talking about sex. They say it’s like riding a bicycle and once you learn how, you never forget. But I have to tell you, the memories have grown p-r-e-t-t-y cloudy. We’re talking sand storm in the desert, a fog bank across a Pacific coast bay, the ash cloud following a volcanic eruption cloudy. My hubby and I have become so obsessed with doing for the kids, that we’ve forgotten about doing each other. After eight hours at work, four hours at whatever function the kids have and all the other responsibilities of a household, we both seem to tumble into bed and die. So, I’ve made a decision. It’s Thursday, and technically a school night, but this gal is tired of waiting her turn. A turn that never comes. The kids are going to a movie and hubby and I are going to have an evening at home. Alone. A romantic evening. Well, not an evening. But at least two hours. That should be long enough. I think. How long does it take? Gee, I can’t remember. http://amzn.to/1f6kLC3 http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/caught-in-the-act-teresa-reasor/1118173230?ean=2940045604451
Thank you. Here is mine from Viking Fire - historical romance with a touch of magic and one of the 2012 & 2013 Crimson Romance ebooks on sale this entire month for Valentine's Day at Amazon for $1.99
Outside he released her, but blocked her path to re-enter the hall. The music resonated around them. Leaning against the far wall, she crossed her arms.
She was two feet away from him, but he was too close.
“I thought the air would clear your head.” He cocked his eyebrow, examining her.
“My head is fine, thank you.”
“Aye, and the rest of you is fine to look at too.” His thick dialect chased shivers through her.
Her hands smoothed her gown. She caught herself and stopped. At seeing his grin, her frown deepened. “I believe it’s improper for you to stare at a lady so.”
“Would you rather I stare at you on our wedding night?” She opened her mouth to speak, but he continued. “Whilst you are without clothes?”
“I assure you, sir, we will have no wedding night.” Her blush radiated from her chest and spread between her legs.
“You wish to wed during the day then?” He took a step closer. “Very well, daylight will be all the better to see you.”
Music and laughter from inside filtered through the night air. He strode toward her. She braced for his advances, wondering if she had the strength to inflict enough pain to make him reconsider. Part of her wanting to run, the other part daring him closer in challenge. God’s toenails, how could she have forgotten her dagger?
Ryder hobbled over to the hotel and stepped onto the walk. With an assortment of hotels and rooming houses in this sprawling town, it would be tough to find her, but as long as he was here… He drew a deep breath, pushed open the front door, and approached the desk. “I’m looking for someone,” Ryder announced to the clerk. “She’s a big woman, maybe thirty-five? She might be dressed as a widow. Did she rent a room here today?” The clerk stared. Ryder realized he looked rough. He hadn’t had a bath or shaved in five days, but after twenty-eight years of stares, he knew his unkempt appearance wasn’t what drew the clerk’s attention. The clerk pulled the guest ledger closer. “What’s her name?” “Did she rent a room or not?” “Got a name?” the clerk snapped. “Look, she’s my sister. I rode all day to get here, and I just want to know if she arrived.” “She’s your sister; you ought to know her name.” “She never uses her real name.” The thin man arched his brows. “Then no, didn’t see anyone like that.” “What about a kid?” Ryder persisted. “My little brother might have rented the room.” “Your brother got a name?” Ryder glared at him. The clerk closed the book. “Of course not,” he said dryly. “Look, a couple of salesmen and a married couple, that’s it for today. You might try the Rollins House. It’s a few streets behind us on Sixteenth. Or you could try American House down from them. Your nameless family might be there.” Ryder clenched his teeth, slid his saddlebags higher on his shoulder, and stalked back outside,
For once Meena’s skin didn’t tingle as she passed her mother’s protective barriers—the ones that kept otherworld creatures at bay. Instead she did an abrupt double take. Yes, that really is Lipstick grazing his way through our profit margins. She ran toward him, flapping her arms to attract his attention. “Get out of there, you dumb dragon.” He roared out a welcome and galloped to her side, but now he stood as tall as a fully grown pony. How fast can one dragon grow? His tail wrapped around her waist, and his forked tongue flicked over her face. “Down, boy. Stop it. Yecch. You’re worse than an oversize puppy. Did you ditch the jackass Fairy again? Yes, I get that you’re pleased to see me, but have you seen my mum? Come on, let’s get you something to eat; then we’ll see what you’ve done to our herbs.” The drizzle lightened, but thunder rolled across the moors. Lightning zigzagged through the clouds. Her muscular Fae flashed into the garden, but he was more dominant warrior than passionate lover. Meena fondled the dragonet’s ear. “Hey, here’s Daddy, come to take you home again. What’s up? Did your dragon ditch you?” “No, he did not. It’s more like he popped in and out of Whitby like a needle through cloth until he sensed your trail. Apparently my dragon wanted to spend some time with the fascinating, slender creature that fed him cheese sandwiches rather than stay with his rightful owner—the one that feeds him fresh meat.” ***** Read the opening of Curse of the Fae King here http://kryssiefortune.wix.com/kryssie#!excerpt/c16aoa Follow me on twitter @Kryssie.fortune Follow me on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Kryssie-Fortune-Author-Page/267100286738528
Buy links http://www.loose-id.com/curse-of-the-fae-king.html Or http://tinyurl.com/nka2gx5
She gave him a sustained gaze. “Hmm, hope I’m not being intrusive. I’ve been keeping an eye on you in the swimming pool for some time. You’re looking really good now—got into swimming well…must admit I was a bit worried about you before. You seemed a bit head-heavy, imbalanced. But now you’ve accepted your body, toned it up and relaxed the tensions. It’s the best exercise, you know involving all of you.” “I guess I’ve conquered some fears. I’m so glad to do it properly…” he grew a bit shy and hesitant. “It started… when you bumped into me and gave me those tips on how to improve that really clinched things for me, and…” “Don’t be shy,” Janice patted his knee to assuage his hesitation. “I had seen you before! At that party here…you did that beautiful dance; your skirt billowed.”
“And?”
“Then to see you in your bathing costume.”
“And when you did, you took the plunge, bless you.”
“I just had to come in the water with you. And then, when I saw you at the art class, I was just dying to pose for you. I was secretly longing for the model not to turn up so that I would have my chance.”
Janice unbuttoned Cedric’s jacket, felt his shoulders and his chest. “You’ve got your body in trim and you can really carry yourself in trunks.
Clothes look good on you, but your height of fashion is around your loins.”
Buy link: Explorations eBook: David Russell: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store www.amazon.co.uk › Books › Romance
After much too long of a handshake, I pulled my hand back and said, “I am so sorry, Dominic. Please excuse my manners.” I waved him in with my right hand, while holding the door open with my left. “Come in. I’m Mia, by the way. Let’s have a seat in the living room to talk.” I led the way to the sofa, and we both sat. I felt the need to explain myself, and the verbal vomit began. I turned bright red and said, “Please excuse my behavior at the door, it’s just . . .” I looked up at him through my lashes, not trying to be cute, just truthfully embarrassed that I was going to be so honest. “It’s just that you’re beautiful.” I stood up in a flash when he paled before my eyes. His olive skin lightened to a pasty color. “Oh, God, I’m sorry. You want to leave, don’t you? I don’t act like this, usually. I swear I’m not crazy,” I rambled. I turned away from him in embarrassment. God, this was one time when my big mouth was not productive. Dominic stood up, walked toward me, and grabbed my shoulders, turning me to face him before saying, “No, I’m not leaving. I was just taken off guard, embarrassed.” He grabbed my hand and guided me back to the sofa.
This ultimate HEA is the perfect cure for a book hangover! Read the fun, light, & sweet romance. My Mr. Manny by Jennifer Garcia
I truly appreciate the opportunity to share on this blog. Thank you!
From my alter ego, Skylin O'Thomas, a short bit from Busted in Bubbles…(apologies for being just a wee bit over the word limit)
* * * *
His lips quirked knowingly. "That juvenile record of yours must come in handy sometimes."
Emsley almost missed the backhanded insult. Her eyes had been riveted to the sculpted muscle playing under his skin when he poured the drink. She nodded absently. "Yeah, it does." His words registered. "Wait. What? My juvie records are sealed. You shouldn't know about them."
Rayne's lips curved in a slow smile. "It pays to have extraordinary hacking skills."
Emsley snorted. "I guess it does. You shit." She put her hands on her hips. "Not sure I like having my privacy invaded like that." Not by him anyway.
Rayne's brow knitted. "I'm supposed to believe you haven't done a thorough check up on me, then?" He made a scoffing sound.
Rightfully so, because she couldn't, and wouldn't, deny it. But she gathered information the old-fashioned way—somewhat on the sly—by asking questions and listening carefully. Her dad used to say she could get information out of a brick wall if it could talk.
Yes, she kept her skills up. Picked locks, got in and out of buildings with no one being the wiser, but she didn't go for nefarious deeds anymore. Hadn't for a long time. The reminder of where she'd been, and having Rayne know the details, bothered her. She kind of liked leaving her past in the past.
Then again, he didn't seem fazed by her former life of crime, so she'd leave it… for now.
She moved farther into the bathroom, stopping at the edge of the tub. "Not to change the subject, but really? Bubbles? I didn't have you pegged as the type."
Rayne blinked. "I love a woman who shifts gears without batting an eye." He lifted a brow. "Got a problem with bubble baths?"
She chuckled. "Nope. I appreciate a man who can own a tub full of bubbles."
This is honor of my new release today Being Free by Lee Rose at www.bookstrand.com/being-free Anna the heroine is in disguise but still worried people will recognize her. They run into Blake's (hero) jealous ex who thinks Anna is a totally different woman. Hope it makes you smile. “Well, Blake,” a voice sneered and they looked up into Jenna’s smug looking face. It was obvious she was angry to see Blake with someone else. Jenna smiled but it wasn’t a nice smile. “You sure are turning into quite the playboy. This isn’t the same girl you were with at the steakhouse.” Anna decided to have some fun. She pretended to be outraged. She changed her voice so it had a country twang to it. She stood up and put her hands over her heart, trying to look mad and not laugh. “Why, Blake Murphy, you scoundrel. You assured me I was the only woman in your life!” She turned to Jenna who was smiling with triumph. She gave her a sweet smile. “Thank you for saving me. I was just about to go home with him.” “You’re welcome. This man is bad news.” Jenna gave Blake a triumphant look. Anna pretended to stomp off, leaving Blake with Jenna. She walked across the street to David’s car where he was already waiting for them. He had overheard the scene and walked off before he burst out with laughter.
THE DIVORCED NOT DEAD WORKSHOP --a hilarious romantic comedy about dating after divorce by CeCe Osgood --- an Amazon eBook
At the next light I hooked a right and headed up Beverly Glen toward my current home, a small guesthouse behind a mansion at the top of the hill. The house, which looked like a petite French Chateau, had been built in 1962 by a wealthy podiatrist for his Parisian wife, an actress who claimed to be a descendant of Marie Antoinette (hence the faux chateau). Two years later, the wife caught him doing the rumpy-pumpy with a new patient and quickly divorced him.
After she left with half of his stock portfolio, he married the new patient, a starlet-slash-painter, who demanded a studio be built in the tradition of her supposed relative: Frank Lloyd Wright. The weird-shaped cantilevered addition had so upset the neighbors they’d immediately dubbed it the Frank Lloyd Wrong house.
Hell. Wright or wrong, I wished it were mine. I’d have sold it already and be set for life. But it wasn’t mine. It belonged to Mr. Romanoff, a real estate investor I’d met at one of Pilar’s fundraisers. Mr. R had offered to let me rent the guesthouse while the estate was being renovated on the condition that I would move out as soon as it went on the market.
I unlocked my front door and called out to my male companion, a gray tabby I’d rescued from a culvert the week after Theo dumped me. When I’d first brought the little guy home, I thought I’d call him J.T. or Timberlake, but his feral nature soon became apparent and I knew he’d never be fully tamed, so I changed his name to Clooney.
From my contemporary romance THE BABY RACE. http://is.gd/thebabyrace To save his ranch Race needs a baby. Claire wants a husband so she can gain custody of her young stepsister. Wants and needs clash as Race and Claire run THE BABY RACE.
"You've got a nice lump there," Race said. "Do you feel dizzy?"
"No, just foolish," Claire said. Then why am I trembling? .
"No broken skin. You head's not bleeding."
She pulled away and took a quick step back. "Speaking of blood, you're dripping all over. Sit down." She pushed him into one of the kitchen chairs.
Her flannel covered breasts brushed against Race's bare chest. Throbbing in time with the suddenly rapid beat of his heart, pain radiated up his leg. But another portion of his anatomy was giving him more discomfort. He shifted on the chair.
"Sit still. Where do you keep your first aid kit?" She propped his foot on a second chair. Her fingers felt soft and warm against the chilled flesh of his ankle and increased the ache in his groin.
"There's one in the cupboard next to the stove."
"Don't move."
"Watch out for the broken ceramic."
She skirted around the shards of the plate and retrieved the kit as well as a bowl of water and a towel, then knelt next to him.
He twitched when she sponged away the blood and pulled out the sliver of ceramic. Her shoulder rubbed the inside of his extended thigh. He groaned.
"I'm sorry. Does it hurt?" She looked back over her shoulder, her chocolate brown eyes full of concern.
"No." At least not the way you think, sweetheart. If she dropped her gaze, she'd soon know his real problem.
She gave him a sweet smile and turned her attention back to his heel. "It doesn't look too bad, it's only a small cut. I don't think you'll need stitches."
"Real men don't get stitches. We staple our wounds."
From A HEAT OF THE MOMENT THING, a romantic comedy by Maggie Le Page. http://amzn.com/B00BUCJV70
Becky's first day in the new job starts off badly . . .
“Ah. Becky.” Gary came around the desk and shook my hand. “Welcome to Gillingas Tertiary College.”
“Thanks.” I fingered my new headscarf. Was it slipping? I had a Worzel Gummidge horror hidden under there.
“How are you feeling?” Gary’s eyes fixated on the headscarf. “Sounds like you had a close call.”
“Much better, thanks.” I dropped my hand back to my side. “Sorry I couldn’t—”
I gasped, feeling serious scarf slippage, and grabbed at my head.
Gary, with a stricken look, tried to help. It only made things worse. The headscarf, hooked on my finger, shifted floorward, then skyward, before collapsing with ballerina grace in my hands. I stared in dismay at the mess of fabric.
“Oh dear,” said Gary. “Here, let me help you.”
No! I scrambled for my headscarf, curse the sodding thing, and wheeled away, consumed by full-body flaming shame. “If you could just show me to the ladies’ . . .”
The receptionist leapt out of her chair. “I’ll take you. Would you like some pins?” She fossicked around in a drawer and produced a handful.
“Thanks.”
Curse this rotten scarf. Curse the med. student who’d left me with a bald patch. And curse me for swimming into the end of the freaking pool.
When I returned, headscarf secured to hurricane-proof standards, Gary took me on the grand tour.
Excerpt from Love at First Click, A Bellham Romance. New release! Available in eBook or paperback: http://www.amazon.com/Love-First-Click-Bellham-Romances-ebook/dp/B00GH1CWY8/
Heather squeezed the daisy stems in her hand, confused. Dakota’s apology had held real sincerity, which surprised her. Hopefully, he wasn’t just sounding that way to ease the blow to her pride, although he did seem ashamed and sincere. But then, he had seemed sincere for the past three months, and look where he wound up – in Hannah’s arms.
Maybe, “I really am sorry I hurt you,” said in a sincere way, was the parting line Dakota used on all the girls he briefly dated, and then cheated on.
Maybe that’s how he gets away with cheating on so many girls, without getting himself maimed.
“He’s lucky I’m not the maiming type,” Heather said to Mariah, who had hopped back up on the counter for a few more rubs around the ears. “You’re lucky I’m not the type to maim traitors, since you’re a traitor, too. Sauntering up to my ex-boyfriend all lovey, dovey. What was that all about, anyway?”
“Prrrt,” said the cat, and bumped Heather’s stomach with her head.
“Oh, yeah. Play the innocent card,” Heather said. She set the daisies on the counter, and spent a few moments stroking the traitorous, purring cat.
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From The Witchy Wolf and the Wendigo by Rose Anderson
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004XDGWL6
Here an ancient shaman encounters the effects of beer for the first time.
…………………………………………
Ash felt odd. The sensation was not unlike the altered mental state brought about by the ordeals of his training, when his mind ventured in another world while his body stayed in this one. His earlier jumble of thoughts returned. It is the beer. The beer is bringing this sensation. It was only a guess but the odd feeling was intensifying since the last two glasses.
Knowing he had to resume his wolf form at Livie’s home, he took a deep breath and shifted, but his inebriated mind was not concentrating and he ended up with a raven’s head atop his man’s body. He tried again. Forgetting that he still wore clothes, he found himself a small bird, pinned and struggling under the heavy garments that had fallen to the ground in a heap. He shifted into a feathered snake before taking the form of a mouse and working his way out of a sleeve.
The movement caught the attention of an owl on its nightly hunting foray. Just as it was about to swoop low on silent wings, intent on nabbing the large field mouse, a naked man with a mouse tail and whiskers appeared. The owl, clearly startled, flew off into the night. Laughing, Ash raised his arms and yelled after it, “This is not your night, my brotherrrr!”
Tail and whiskers absorbed into his changing form and once again bare skin grew feathers. He shifted into a raven — a six-foot-tall raven. Laughing at himself, he made his body small and flew fast to Livie’s home, albeit not in a straight line.
……………………………………………
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From TORN: Jess is walking her four year old son, Rory, to his nursery school.
Jess wondered how much of what she said penetrated, but still pointed out the bluebells and primroses growing wild amongst the undergrowth on the slopes of the hill. Her son seemed far more interested in talking about Buzz Lightyear, a subject long since exhausted for her. As he chattered on, she simply agreed and nodded and said: ‘Oh’ and ‘Mmm’ from time to time.
Suddenly he said, ‘We looked for the wooden enemies?’ Thinking this was something new to do with Buzz’s adventures, she asked him to repeat himself.
‘Wooden enemies!’ he said loudly, as if she were deaf as well as stupid. ‘Danny took us for a walk in the woods. Me and Sasha. To find the wooden enemies!’
‘Yes, sweetheart. But what are they?’
‘Wooden enemies! And violence!’ Rory sighed deeply. ‘But they were only … like … flowers.’
Comprehension dawned and she laughed.
‘They were, Mummy! Really! Danny showed us! Sasha wanted to pick some, but he said she shouldn’t. He said we should leave them where they grow for other people to see.’
‘I believe you. Wood anemones and violets,’ she translated, still smiling. Was it in fact Danny who’d called the flowers wooden enemies? Sometimes the pronunciation of multi-syllable words could be a problem for him. Memories of how she’d spent Friday, and its aftermath on Saturday morning, needed little prompting. Shame and self-disgust were now qualified by resentment at the inequity of life. Recalling James’ analogy with waiting for a bus, she smiled. When you wanted one, none came along, when you didn’t two arrived simultaneously.....
http://www.amazon.co.uk/TORN-ebook/dp/B004UVR81Y
http://www.amazon.com/TORN-ebook/dp/B004UVR81Y
From Seven Sensuous Days - Book Four - Appointment with Pleasure - coming soon from Ellora's Cave..
“How’d you get her to do that?” Tessa asked.
Logan picked up the male dog and scratched him behind the ears. “Do what? She’s just sitting there on her haunches.”
While sucking a pacifier. It was pink with glittery sparkles embedded in the plastic. The pup held it in her mouth just as an infant would. “Did you teach her to suck on that thing?”
“And ruin her teeth?” He smiled. “Molly came that way from the breeder. He said she took the pacifier from his daughter. His wife let Molly keep it because it was the only way to quiet her down.”
Aw. “Poor sweetie.” Tessa slung her purse’s strap over her shoulder and scooped Molly into her arms. The pup breathed and drooled around the pacifier. “You missed your momma?”
She made a doggy noise that sounded like contentment or love. Tessa rubbed her nose against the sweet thing’s snout. Molly let the pacifier drop from her mouth, then licked Tessa with abandon.
She laughed. “Who’s the big boy?”
Logan glanced at his fly. Tessa elbowed him playfully, filled with the confidence he’d given her.
“Oh,” he said. “You mean him.” He lifted the pup in one hand. “This is Jack.”
“You’re a doll too,” Tessa said, shaking Jack’s paw.
He squirmed in Logan’s hand, wanting freedom.
“Can I take Molly into the kitchen with me?” Tessa asked, retrieving the pacifier and offering it to her. “While I make us lunch?”
“Sure. If you can keep her in there, you’re a better man than I am.”
Tessa tilted her head and regarded Logan’s full, luscious length. All those hard slabs of muscle. One hundred percent male prime. “I doubt that. What do you like to eat?”
He focused on her unprotected cleft and equally naked nipples. “Surprise me.”
http://www.tinadonahue.com/
Thank you so much for this opportunity!!!
Caught In The Act (A humorous short story) by Teresa Reasor
My children are healthy, happy, well-adapted kids and they each have a life. But Jimmy, my husband, and I have none. In fact, parenthood has pretty much become, to borrow a phrase from my thirteen-year-old, a time suck.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I love my children. If I had to throw myself between them and a moving car, I’d do it. I carried them for nine months, and suffered through long, slow, painful labors to bring them into the world. I have a lot invested in those three, emotionally, physically, and financially. Certainly too much to give them away. But of late I’ve begun to wonder when this hamster wheel will stop so I might eventually get off. Pun intended.
Yes, I’m talking about sex. They say it’s like riding a bicycle and once you learn how, you never forget. But I have to tell you, the memories have grown p-r-e-t-t-y cloudy. We’re talking sand storm in the desert, a fog bank across a Pacific coast bay, the ash cloud following a volcanic eruption cloudy.
My hubby and I have become so obsessed with doing for the kids, that we’ve forgotten about doing each other. After eight hours at work, four hours at whatever function the kids have and all the other responsibilities of a household, we both seem to tumble into bed and die.
So, I’ve made a decision. It’s Thursday, and technically a school night, but this gal is tired of waiting her turn. A turn that never comes. The kids are going to a movie and hubby and I are going to have an evening at home. Alone. A romantic evening. Well, not an evening. But at least two hours. That should be long enough. I think. How long does it take? Gee, I can’t remember. http://amzn.to/1f6kLC3
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/caught-in-the-act-teresa-reasor/1118173230?ean=2940045604451
Thank you. Here is mine from Viking Fire - historical romance with a touch of magic and one of the 2012 & 2013 Crimson Romance ebooks on sale this entire month for Valentine's Day at Amazon for $1.99
Outside he released her, but blocked her path to re-enter the hall. The music resonated around them. Leaning against the far wall, she crossed her arms.
She was two feet away from him, but he was too close.
“I thought the air would clear your head.” He cocked his eyebrow, examining her.
“My head is fine, thank you.”
“Aye, and the rest of you is fine to look at too.” His thick dialect chased shivers through her.
Her hands smoothed her gown. She caught herself and stopped. At seeing his grin, her frown deepened. “I believe it’s improper for you to stare at a lady so.”
“Would you rather I stare at you on our wedding night?” She opened her mouth to speak, but he continued. “Whilst you are without clothes?”
“I assure you, sir, we will have no wedding night.” Her blush radiated from her chest and spread between her legs.
“You wish to wed during the day then?” He took a step closer. “Very well, daylight will be all the better to see you.”
Music and laughter from inside filtered through the night air. He strode toward her.
She braced for his advances, wondering if she had the strength to inflict enough pain
to make him reconsider. Part of her wanting to run, the other part daring him closer in challenge. God’s toenails, how could she have forgotten her dagger?
Amazon Buy Link: http://goo.gl/71VAsf
Excerpt from A Tarnished Knight
Ryder hobbled over to the hotel and stepped onto
the walk. With an assortment of hotels and rooming
houses in this sprawling town, it would be tough to find
her, but as long as he was here…
He drew a deep breath, pushed open the front door,
and approached the desk.
“I’m looking for someone,” Ryder announced to
the clerk. “She’s a big woman, maybe thirty-five? She
might be dressed as a widow. Did she rent a room here
today?”
The clerk stared. Ryder realized he looked rough.
He hadn’t had a bath or shaved in five days, but after
twenty-eight years of stares, he knew his unkempt
appearance wasn’t what drew the clerk’s attention.
The clerk pulled the guest ledger closer. “What’s
her name?”
“Did she rent a room or not?”
“Got a name?” the clerk snapped.
“Look, she’s my sister. I rode all day to get here,
and I just want to know if she arrived.”
“She’s your sister; you ought to know her name.”
“She never uses her real name.”
The thin man arched his brows. “Then no, didn’t
see anyone like that.”
“What about a kid?” Ryder persisted. “My little
brother might have rented the room.”
“Your brother got a name?”
Ryder glared at him.
The clerk closed the book. “Of course not,” he said
dryly. “Look, a couple of salesmen and a married
couple, that’s it for today. You might try the Rollins
House. It’s a few streets behind us on Sixteenth. Or you
could try American House down from them. Your
nameless family might be there.”
Ryder clenched his teeth, slid his saddlebags higher
on his shoulder, and stalked back outside,
http://www.amazon.com/A-Tarnished-Knight-ebook/dp/B00G8GTFPQ/ref=sr_1_4?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1382962374&sr=1-4&keywords=Kathy+Otten#
From Curse of the Fae King, by Kryssie Fortune
For once Meena’s skin didn’t tingle as she passed her mother’s protective barriers—the ones that kept otherworld creatures at bay. Instead she did an abrupt double take. Yes, that really is Lipstick grazing his way through our profit margins.
She ran toward him, flapping her arms to attract his attention. “Get out of there, you dumb dragon.”
He roared out a welcome and galloped to her side, but now he stood as tall as a fully grown pony. How fast can one dragon grow? His tail wrapped around her waist, and his forked tongue flicked over her face.
“Down, boy. Stop it. Yecch. You’re worse than an oversize puppy. Did you ditch the jackass Fairy again? Yes, I get that you’re pleased to see me, but have you seen my mum? Come on, let’s get you something to eat; then we’ll see what you’ve done to our herbs.”
The drizzle lightened, but thunder rolled across the moors. Lightning zigzagged through the clouds. Her muscular Fae flashed into the garden, but he was more dominant warrior than passionate lover.
Meena fondled the dragonet’s ear. “Hey, here’s Daddy, come to take you home again. What’s up? Did your dragon ditch you?”
“No, he did not. It’s more like he popped in and out of Whitby like a needle through cloth until he sensed your trail. Apparently my dragon wanted to spend some time with the fascinating, slender creature that fed him cheese sandwiches rather than stay with his rightful owner—the one that feeds him fresh meat.”
*****
Read the opening of Curse of the Fae King here http://kryssiefortune.wix.com/kryssie#!excerpt/c16aoa
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She gave him a sustained gaze. “Hmm, hope I’m not being intrusive. I’ve been keeping an eye on you in the swimming pool for some time.
You’re looking really good now—got into swimming well…must admit I was a bit worried about you before. You seemed a bit head-heavy, imbalanced. But now you’ve accepted your body, toned it up and relaxed the tensions. It’s the best exercise, you know involving all of you.” “I guess I’ve conquered some fears. I’m so glad to do it properly…” he grew a bit shy and hesitant. “It started… when you bumped into me and gave me those tips on how to improve that really clinched things for me, and…” “Don’t be shy,” Janice patted his knee to assuage his hesitation. “I had seen you before! At that party here…you did that beautiful dance; your skirt billowed.”
“And?”
“Then to see you in your bathing costume.”
“And when you did, you took the plunge, bless you.”
“I just had to come in the water with you. And then, when I saw you at the art class, I was just dying to pose for you. I was secretly longing for the model not to turn up so that I would have my chance.”
Janice unbuttoned Cedric’s jacket, felt his shoulders and his chest. “You’ve got your body in trim and you can really carry yourself in trunks.
Clothes look good on you, but your height of fashion is around your loins.”
Buy link:
Explorations eBook: David Russell: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store
www.amazon.co.uk › Books › Romance
After much too long of a handshake, I pulled my hand back and said, “I am so sorry, Dominic. Please excuse my manners.” I waved him in with my right hand, while holding the door open with my left. “Come in. I’m Mia, by the way. Let’s have a seat in the living room to talk.”
I led the way to the sofa, and we both sat. I felt the need to explain myself, and the verbal vomit began. I turned bright red and said, “Please excuse my behavior at the door, it’s just . . .” I looked up at him through my lashes, not trying to be cute, just truthfully embarrassed that I was going to be so honest. “It’s just that you’re beautiful.”
I stood up in a flash when he paled before my eyes. His olive skin lightened to a pasty color. “Oh, God, I’m sorry. You want to leave, don’t you? I don’t act like this, usually. I swear I’m not crazy,” I rambled. I turned away from him in embarrassment. God, this was one time when my big mouth was not productive.
Dominic stood up, walked toward me, and grabbed my shoulders, turning me to face him before saying, “No, I’m not leaving. I was just taken off guard, embarrassed.” He grabbed my hand and guided me back to the sofa.
This ultimate HEA is the perfect cure for a book hangover! Read the fun, light, & sweet romance. My Mr. Manny by Jennifer Garcia
http://jenniferfgarcia.com/the-books/my-mr-manny/
I truly appreciate the opportunity to share on this blog. Thank you!
From my alter ego, Skylin O'Thomas, a short bit from Busted in Bubbles…(apologies for being just a wee bit over the word limit)
* * * *
His lips quirked knowingly. "That juvenile record of yours must come in handy sometimes."
Emsley almost missed the backhanded insult. Her eyes had been riveted to the sculpted muscle playing under his skin when he poured the drink.
She nodded absently. "Yeah, it does." His words registered. "Wait. What? My juvie records are sealed. You shouldn't know about them."
Rayne's lips curved in a slow smile. "It pays to have extraordinary hacking skills."
Emsley snorted. "I guess it does. You shit." She put her hands on her hips. "Not sure I like having my privacy invaded like that." Not by him anyway.
Rayne's brow knitted. "I'm supposed to believe you haven't done a thorough check up on me, then?" He made a scoffing sound.
Rightfully so, because she couldn't, and wouldn't, deny it. But she gathered information the old-fashioned way—somewhat on the sly—by asking questions and listening carefully. Her dad used to say she could get information out of a brick wall if it could talk.
Yes, she kept her skills up. Picked locks, got in and out of buildings with no one being the wiser, but she didn't go for nefarious deeds anymore. Hadn't for a long time. The reminder of where she'd been, and having Rayne know the details, bothered her. She kind of liked leaving her past in the past.
Then again, he didn't seem fazed by her former life of crime, so she'd leave it… for now.
She moved farther into the bathroom, stopping at the edge of the tub. "Not to change the subject, but really? Bubbles? I didn't have you pegged as the type."
Rayne blinked. "I love a woman who shifts gears without batting an eye." He lifted a brow. "Got a problem with bubble baths?"
She chuckled. "Nope. I appreciate a man who can own a tub full of bubbles."
* * * *
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Skylin O'Thomas
PS: I'm a little rusty at commenting with code. Apologies in advance if this looks terrible.
This is honor of my new release today Being Free by Lee Rose at www.bookstrand.com/being-free
Anna the heroine is in disguise but still worried people will recognize her. They run into Blake's (hero) jealous ex who thinks Anna is a totally different woman. Hope it makes you smile.
“Well, Blake,” a voice sneered and they looked up into Jenna’s smug looking face. It was obvious she was angry to see Blake with someone else. Jenna smiled but it wasn’t a nice smile. “You sure are turning into quite the playboy. This isn’t the same girl you were with at the steakhouse.”
Anna decided to have some fun. She pretended to be outraged. She changed her voice so it had a country twang to it. She stood up and put her hands over her heart, trying to look mad and not laugh. “Why, Blake Murphy, you scoundrel. You assured me I was the only woman in your life!”
She turned to Jenna who was smiling with triumph. She gave her a sweet smile. “Thank you for saving me. I was just about to go home with him.”
“You’re welcome. This man is bad news.” Jenna gave Blake a triumphant look.
Anna pretended to stomp off, leaving Blake with Jenna. She walked across the street to David’s car where he was already waiting for them. He had overheard the scene and walked off before he burst out with laughter.
THE DIVORCED NOT DEAD WORKSHOP --a hilarious romantic comedy about dating after divorce by CeCe Osgood --- an Amazon eBook
At the next light I hooked a right and headed up Beverly Glen toward my current home, a small guesthouse behind a mansion at the top of the hill. The house, which looked like a petite French Chateau, had been built in 1962 by a wealthy podiatrist for his Parisian wife, an actress who claimed to be a descendant of Marie Antoinette (hence the faux chateau). Two years later, the wife caught him doing the rumpy-pumpy with a new patient and quickly divorced him.
After she left with half of his stock portfolio, he married the new patient, a starlet-slash-painter, who demanded a studio be built in the tradition of her supposed relative: Frank Lloyd Wright. The weird-shaped cantilevered addition had so upset the neighbors they’d immediately dubbed it the Frank Lloyd Wrong house.
Hell. Wright or wrong, I wished it were mine. I’d have sold it already and be set for life. But it wasn’t mine. It belonged to Mr. Romanoff, a real estate investor I’d met at one of Pilar’s fundraisers. Mr. R had offered to let me rent the guesthouse while the estate was being renovated on the condition that I would move out as soon as it went on the market.
I unlocked my front door and called out to my male companion, a gray tabby I’d rescued from a culvert the week after Theo dumped me. When I’d first brought the little guy home, I thought I’d call him J.T. or Timberlake, but his feral nature soon became apparent and I knew he’d never be fully tamed, so I changed his name to Clooney.
Buy link: www.amazon.com/dp/B00H11TB2Y
Website: www.ceceosgood.com
From my contemporary romance THE BABY RACE.
http://is.gd/thebabyrace
To save his ranch Race needs a baby. Claire wants a husband so she can gain custody of her young stepsister. Wants and needs clash as Race and Claire run THE BABY RACE.
"You've got a nice lump there," Race said. "Do you feel dizzy?"
"No, just foolish," Claire said. Then why am I trembling? .
"No broken skin. You head's not bleeding."
She pulled away and took a quick step back. "Speaking of blood, you're dripping all over. Sit down." She pushed him into one of the kitchen chairs.
Her flannel covered breasts brushed against Race's bare chest. Throbbing in time with the suddenly rapid beat of his heart, pain radiated up his leg. But another portion of his anatomy was giving him more discomfort. He shifted on the chair.
"Sit still. Where do you keep your first aid kit?" She propped his foot on a second chair. Her fingers felt soft and warm against the chilled flesh of his ankle and increased the ache in his groin.
"There's one in the cupboard next to the stove."
"Don't move."
"Watch out for the broken ceramic."
She skirted around the shards of the plate and retrieved the kit as well as a bowl of water and a towel, then knelt next to him.
He twitched when she sponged away the blood and pulled out the sliver of ceramic. Her shoulder rubbed the inside of his extended thigh. He groaned.
"I'm sorry. Does it hurt?" She looked back over her shoulder, her chocolate brown eyes full of concern.
"No." At least not the way you think, sweetheart. If she dropped her gaze, she'd soon know his real problem.
She gave him a sweet smile and turned her attention back to his heel. "It doesn't look too bad, it's only a small cut. I don't think you'll need stitches."
"Real men don't get stitches. We staple our wounds."
Elysa Hendricks
http://www.elysahendricks.com
From A HEAT OF THE MOMENT THING, a romantic comedy by Maggie Le Page.
http://amzn.com/B00BUCJV70
Becky's first day in the new job starts off badly . . .
“Ah. Becky.” Gary came around the desk and shook my hand. “Welcome to Gillingas Tertiary College.”
“Thanks.” I fingered my new headscarf. Was it slipping? I had a Worzel Gummidge horror hidden under there.
“How are you feeling?” Gary’s eyes fixated on the headscarf. “Sounds like you had a close call.”
“Much better, thanks.” I dropped my hand back to my side. “Sorry I couldn’t—”
I gasped, feeling serious scarf slippage, and grabbed at my head.
Gary, with a stricken look, tried to help. It only made things worse. The headscarf, hooked on my finger, shifted floorward, then skyward, before collapsing with ballerina grace in my hands.
I stared in dismay at the mess of fabric.
“Oh dear,” said Gary. “Here, let me help you.”
No! I scrambled for my headscarf, curse the sodding thing, and wheeled away, consumed by full-body flaming shame. “If you could just show me to the ladies’ . . .”
The receptionist leapt out of her chair. “I’ll take you. Would you like some pins?” She fossicked around in a drawer and produced a handful.
“Thanks.”
Curse this rotten scarf. Curse the med. student who’d left me with a bald patch. And curse me for swimming into the end of the freaking pool.
When I returned, headscarf secured to hurricane-proof standards, Gary took me on the grand tour.
One of my favorite scenes was him while Livie was bathing. He is such a man!
Excerpt from Love at First Click, A Bellham Romance. New release! Available in eBook or paperback: http://www.amazon.com/Love-First-Click-Bellham-Romances-ebook/dp/B00GH1CWY8/
Heather squeezed the daisy stems in her hand, confused. Dakota’s apology had held real sincerity, which surprised her. Hopefully, he wasn’t just sounding that way to ease the blow to her pride, although he did seem ashamed and sincere. But then, he had seemed sincere for the past three months, and look where he wound up – in Hannah’s arms.
Maybe, “I really am sorry I hurt you,” said in a sincere way, was the parting line Dakota used on all the girls he briefly dated, and then cheated on.
Maybe that’s how he gets away with cheating on so many girls, without getting himself maimed.
“He’s lucky I’m not the maiming type,” Heather said to Mariah, who had hopped back up on the counter for a few more rubs around the ears. “You’re lucky I’m not the type to maim traitors, since you’re a traitor, too. Sauntering up to my ex-boyfriend all lovey, dovey. What was that all about, anyway?”
“Prrrt,” said the cat, and bumped Heather’s stomach with her head.
“Oh, yeah. Play the innocent card,” Heather said. She set the daisies on the counter, and spent a few moments stroking the traitorous, purring cat.
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