Moon Crazy

When I first started Moon Crazy, the idea was that I’d write an erotic romance that appealed to men. It would be graphic, visual, and have a hero who lived on the edge. As I started writing it, I thought, "this will be too gritty for women," but beta readers who were women told me otherwise.

  

A reviewer had this to say: “You know this man is terribly confident—and a wee bit crazy—to even consider putting these two women on the same deck, but that swagger makes him entirely irresistible.”   ~  Heather Bennett

   So, does Jace have swagger or is he moon crazy?

   Of course there were some bits that ended up on the cutting room floor. After my second round of edits, I was going through the manuscript and came across this lovely section. It stopped me cold. I was like, “D L, what the heck were you thinking?” The comments attached to the cut, are actual comments to my editor. I thought you might like a peek at an authors editing process and the things that sometimes go through their heads during this stage of the production:

***Unedited section***

Quadraxians lived in domes beside the ocean and in the shallows. Every night the tides came up and anywhere from fifty to a hundred feet of water would cover the domes. During the full phase of the moons, the domes remained covered for several days, but since they were all  self-sustaining, it didn’t cause issues. Special processors extracted air from the oxygen rich sea water. Fish-like creatures provided the bulk the proteins  and since most  Quadraxians had indoor gardens within the  biospheres, they had variation in an otherwise carnivore diet. The dome-dwellers could go for years without coming out of their dwellings if necessary.

Many of the homes  bored into bedrock several feet below the ocean floor, giving them subterranean rooms. Tara’s had three levels. Her bedroom she kept above ground—his below. The sides of her home were wrapped with glass while the top consisted of a a concrete-like material, stronger and lighter than the Terran version and air and water tight when she shut the vents.

She had a room the level below hers, where she could free dive if she chose. Open to the sea, she need only jump in to go for a swim. Since Quads had gills, Tara improvised with a breathing apparatus if she needed to go out at high tide. She was never stranded or stuck, but rarely went out after dark. Nobody went ashore at night.

The domes served two purposes. The first was protection from the violent storms that plagued the planet. The round shapes resisted high winds. Hail bounced off them and water washed around them and over them like stones in a river. They were also anchored deep and created in a manner that they were air tight and submergable. This was the other reason the communities were built on the oceans and beaches.

The second was to avoid the other residents of the world, carnivores, who were strictly nocturnal because of their translucent skin and inability to tolerate the light from the radiant star. And they enjoyed humanoid flesh. Terran, Quad, they didn’t care. They also couldn’t swim. Since light was coming in, he could leave now, but decided to shower before going.

Author comment about section:  “Wow, little bit of exposition here. You want me to cut this? Nothing is really pivotal to the plot going forward, and I just realized I dumped all over this story here. It’s nice to have details in sci fi, but I don’t think it’s necessary, and damn...just damn. Smack me upside the head when I do this shit, will you? LOL”

I hope you’ll check out Moon Crazy, my naughty little erotic science fiction story. But until then, enjoy this snippet:

Jace cracked an eye. Warm morning starlight streamed in through the glass behind him. The light illuminated Tara. She looked so innocent while asleep, and, truth be told, he could watch her for hours when she slept, but it wasn’t safe to let his guard down. Sometime during the night, he’d made the mistake of falling asleep in her bed. Good thing she hadn’t woke first.

She’d had a room built into her dome, for him, when he came over on occasion. After they’d had their fill, she wanted him to go to his room to sleep off the night until the ocean receded and he could leave without something eating him.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared at him. Beautiful aqua irises glowed in the light, their almond shape accentuated with a thick fringe of lashes. She studied him, her lips parted and swollen from her activities the night before. Her platinum hair glowed around her like a halo, taking his breath away. How he missed waking up next to her. He didn’t want to admit it, but he stilled loved her.

Unfortunate she didn’t feel the same way. It had been a long while since he’d spent the night in her bed, and, this time, only by mistake. A smiled tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Jace cocked a brow. Well, she looked friendly. Perhaps she wasn’t upset about him staying in her bed. No reason not to be social. “Good morning.”

The heel of her palm struck him in the breastbone, sending him reeling off the hovering platform, all flailing arms and legs, tangled in the sheet.

Jace hit the floor with a thud. “What the fuck.”

“What did we decide about you sleeping in my bed?”

“Damned harsh for a man who launched your rockets all night.”

“You have your own room.” 

Have a great Fourth of July, weekend!

D L Jackson

Kindle || Nook || All Romance

Website: www.AuthorDLJackson.com

I have a Secret....

by Angela S. Stone

Can I let you in on a secret? I suck at blogging. Actually I suck at talking about my books in general, but here we are, celebrating the cover release of Duty, Honor, Love, and the upcoming June 30^th release date!  I’m sitting here two days before my blog post is supposed to go up (and giving our poor blog Maven a heart attack I’m sure) typing this post out.

Duty, Honor, Love is the first book in what was supposed to be a three book series titled Toronto’s Elite. It’s now turned into a four book series, and I can see even more on the horizon.  My bunnies just won’t stop talking to me!

This book features Jaden Black, a power, but young telepath and her partner in Toronto police Special Investigation’s Unit Cameron Olsen. Along with the help of the mysterious Paul Butler, Jaden’s best friend and fellow telepath, they track down a missing child, shut down a child pornographer, have steamy sex, expose a corrupt cop and narrowly avoid a crazed killer. This book is full of twists, turns, dragons, and misdirects that will have you guessing to the very end who the real bad guy is!

I love this book, mostly because it’s very Canadian. From Toonies (gave my poor editors headaches over them.) to Nova Scotia phrases like “Put the TV on” and more the book is full of references to life in Toronto (even the legendary traffic!) and Canada in general.  It’s also full of “what if’s” Like what if you met someone who could read every facet of your mind, from the thoughts to the feelings to the random idea? What if someone was evil enough to kill to gain these powers. What if we lived in a world where Dragons, and ghosts, and a whole host of other things are real—just no one has told us about them yet!

Okay enough teasing here is the Exclusive excerpt you will not see anywhere else:

Excerpt:

Chris stood and stretched his arms wide at twelve-thirty, giving an exaggerated yawn. “What do you say we go grab some lunch? I’m starving.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Cameron agreed. “Jaden?”

She nodded.

“I don’t know. We have an awful lot of work.” Leann glanced at the table of half-catalogued pictures.

“Come on, Lee. We’ve been at this since eight. I think we need a break.” Meincke stretched his legs.

“Agreed,” Logan added. “It will still be here when you get back, Lee.”

She hesitated, unsure, but three men giving her puppy-dog eyes made her cave. “Fine, but make sure one of the CSU techs comes here to watch the evidence while we’re gone.”

One of the techs, who’d already had lunch, volunteered, and Cam followed the group out of the building and down the street to a popular steak place.

They got seated quickly, and the waitress came to take drink orders.

“Coke,” Jaden told Cam.

The others ordered. “Two cokes,” he said, indicating himself and his partner.

The girl left to get their drinks.

“Do you ever say anything?” Leann asked Jaden. “I don’t think I’ve heard you say a word since I’ve met you.”

Jaden shrugged and gave him a quick but meaningful glance.

“She doesn’t like to talk around new people.” He brushed off the question.

Leann raised an eyebrow. “No offense, but you’re one of youngest cops and the youngest detective I’ve ever met. How the heck did you make detective if you don’t talk around new people?”

Jaden pressed her lips together in a tight line “Help.”

“Look, Leann, we’ve got a ninety-eight percent solve rate on our cases,” Cameron pointed out. “Jaden is a great investigator. She went into the academy right out of school and made her bones early on the serial rape case over in the brewery district. Jaden pretty much single-handedly took down the suspect by working her ass off. She doesn’t talk because….” He pretended to hesitate. Everything he’d said had been the truth so far. Time to add in a tiny lie, so the whole truth didn’t get out. “She stutters around new people. It took her three months before she would talk to me instead of through Ruth.”

“Oh I….” Leann blanched. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Jaden replied with a shrug as if to say it was okay.

Logan asked Chris about Noel, and the conversation switched that way, avoiding the awkward silence. The rest of lunch flew by, and, less than an hour later, they found themselves walking toward the office.

They were almost to the main doors when two men in matching dark-blue suits approached the group.

“Matthew Meincke?” one said, staring hard at the four men in the group.

“Yes?” He stepped forward.

They both flashed their badges at him. “Keep your hands where we can see them,” the taller one instructed. One approached him, and removed Meincke’s side arm, handing it to the other, who secured it. “Put your hands behind your back.”

He did.

“What am I being arrested for?” Meincke asked. He glanced around wildly for an escape route.

“It is my duty to inform you that you have the right to retain and instruct counsel without delay. You may call any lawyer you want. There is a 24-hour telephone service available, which provides a legal aid duty lawyer who can give you legal advice in private. This advice is given without charge, and the lawyer can explain the legal aid plan to you. If you wish to contact a legal aid duty lawyer, I can provide you with a telephone number. Do you understand?”

Meincke nodded, his jaw set, eye twitching.

“Do you want to call a lawyer?”

Meincke nodded again.

“You are not obliged to say anything, but anything you do say may be given in evidence.” He led Meincke toward the cruiser.

Leann blinked, slack jawed as they led him away. She turned toward the others. “What the hell just happened?”

Blurb:

Cameron Olsen believes in three things: the duty to his badge, the honor of being a police officer, and the love he has for his partner.

As a member of Toronto’s elite Special Investigations Unit, he has the privilege of working with Jaden Black, a power but naive telepath. As they hunt down a child rapist and killer and the case takes an unexpected turn, Cameron questions his badge, his profession, and who exactly his partner is, and what she’s been hiding from him.

Available June 30^th 2015 

Did I mention I’m giving away a $25 Amazon giftcard??:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Author Bio:

Angela S. Stone is a twenty something Registered Nurse living in Ottawa, Canada. Angela finds inspiration in real life personal events for her books, often writing about issues she’s experience in her life. She is a proud Canadian and an even prouder girl from back east. She thoroughly enjoys writing novels featuring character that live in or are from the Maritimes. She’s recently met Mr. Right and when she’s not occupied with him she can be found hanging out at her local Bridgehead writing. She spends her free time advocating for minorities and persons with disabilities.

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The Creativity of Spring

My favorite season is springtime. Nothing can compare to the delicious scent of ozone on the air after a lightning storm, or watching the green begin to push away the brown of winter’s grass. Coming home from work and smelling potting soil as the hubby starts our tomato plants on the kitchen table brings me such joy. And the way the sky gets bluer, the clouds whiter. Or seeing a cheery little crocus popping up amid the dry leaf litter still in my garden.

I love it!

Spring is a time of rebirth, not just for the earth. For me it’s a joyous time to shake off the winter doldrums, and put an end to cabin fever. Not that I’m one who suffers from seasonal depression, but it’s hard to have a case of the melancholies when birds are chirping outside your window and the deer are dashing across the corn fields. Everything is coming back to life, and that makes my creative juices flow.

Recently I was contemplating my writing accomplishments this past winter. I feel like I have been writing constantly, which is partially true. I had another Naughty North Pole book come out in December—Book Five: EVERYBODY HATES FRUITCAKE—and two other full length novels as well. But actually all I have been doing was editing.

While writing is just rewriting and editing, it dawned on me that I have not written any NEW material since August.

What the heck?

Well, it must have been the crisp spring air feeding my brain, all rich with the scent of dirt and growing things, because a new idea has sprouted. Not entirely new, though. Sometimes we visit old stories like we visit old friends, and that’s what I’m doing.

In my 1NightStand story ACCIDENTALLY BEAUTIFUL, my two heroes visited a gay bar in Grand Turk called No Woman No Cry—yeah like the Bob Marley song. There was a Haitian man who owned the place named Josef and frankly he just needed his own story. And as I love swapping characters with my writer pal Wendy Burke, I helped myself—with her permission of course—to the art gallery owner from her story WISE MEN SAY, Paul.

Now, just like the bulbs popping up in my garden and the sprouts of baby tomatoes growing in my kitchen, their love story is also growing. I’m very excited to be penning their journey and I’m nearing the halfway point. Frankly, even as I write this post, they are whispering in the back of my mind. The horny little bastards are ready to do some growing of their own, if you get my meaning, LOL, so I need to get back to writing. You see, Paul and Josef have just arrived at No Woman No Cry, and things are about to heat up! I’m thinking these two like mirrors, which is something I haven’t incorporated into any love scenes yet. So this should be fun for all!

What about you guys? Has the season change watered your creativity? Are you writing anything new that you would like to share? I’d love to hear about it!

~Deanna

Deanna Wadsworth might be a bestselling erotica author, but she leads a pretty vanilla life in Ohio with her wonderful husband and a couple adorable cocker spaniels. She has been spinning tales and penning stories since childhood, and her first erotic novella was published in 2010. When she isn’t writing books or brainstorming with friends, you can find her making people gorgeous in a beauty salon. She loves music and dancing, and can often be seen hanging out on the sandbar in the muddy Maumee River or chilling with her hubby and a cocktail in their basement bar. In between all that fun, Deanna cherishes the quiet times when she can let her wildly active imagination have the full run of her mind. Her fascination with people and the interworkings of their relationships have always inspired her to write romance with spice and love without boundaries.

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You can also find her young adult alter ego, K.D. Worth Facebook│Twitter

Buy Deanna’s books at Decadent Publishing, Dreamspinner Press or at any reputable eBook seller

Never Too Old to Learn ... Or to Change Gears

By Nancy Fraser

Let me start off by saying, I’m no spring chicken. As a matter of fact, I’ve retired...twice.

I was not “born” on the Internet. My first book was written on an IBM electric typewriter. I went through a lot of correction fluid before they invented those wonderful little orange spools with the tape built in.

I did not “grow up” on Facebook. As a matter of fact, I had a Facebook profile for nearly a year before I realized what those little icons at the top were for. I had no idea you could click on them to see who’d commented on a post. Or, who’d asked to be your friend. Or, even who’d sent you a message. My old-fashioned self was fixated on the worded tabs to the left because I understood what they were asking/telling me.

I did not “mature” on Twitter, or Pintrest, or Google+. Heck, I don’t even know what LinkedIn is or why people keep asking me to follow them. When I first signed up for Twitter I was hoping for 100 followers. Thankfully, I’ve far surpassed that goal. And, I’ve also learned how to use Hootsuite to my advantage. Yeah me!

It’s been a very wide learning curve. The “old hen” has learned some new tricks. I have to be honest though, I still appreciate the value of face-to-face networking. Of exchanging business cards and email addresses. We then follow our new friends on Facebook and Twitter but, still, the initial contact was made in person. You can put a warm body to the profile, rather than a cutesy icon, or family photo.

Thank goodness for conferences where you can not only make those one-on-one connections but also attend workshops on how to navigate the ever-growing, always-changing social media.

I see social media advances, especially for someone who began writing in the 1990s, as ongoing education. And, as challenging as those changes are, there’s also a bigger challenge ... what I like to refer to as the “reinvention” of the romance genre.

When I started writing, you’d have never found a romance novel that including spanking, or a ménage. Erotic novels, yes. But not romance. The traditional publishers had very firm rules on what was taboo!

Five to ten years ago, swearing was still avoided in romance novels. Now, it’s almost impossible to find a romance without one ... with the exception of Christian romance, category romance, and those labelled “sweet” by both the author and publisher.

As difficult as I found learning social media to be, the change in popular romance posed an even bigger hurdle for me.

There are certain words that I find very unromantic. Most of them have to do with female body parts. Because I wanted to continue to write, and sell, I’ve embraced a number of the terms that were once considered too risqué for romance. Still, there are some I will never use.

So, how did I get past the changes to embrace my naughtier side?

I read a lot. Not just the most popular authors, but also some of the up and coming authors and publishers. I made myself a list of words that were now acceptable and then red-stroked the ones I would not use.

I watched some “R” rated movies (not that I hadn’t already seen most of them). I made another list of possible plot devices. Yes ... I’m a list maker.

Finally, I took a tried and true romantic trope and filtered in both the plot twists and, heaven help me, the bolder words. There were actually a few words I enjoyed using ... they helped with the frustration when a scene wasn’t going exactly as I wanted it.

One of the things I discovered when writing my first erotic romance, The Muse, was that my creativity got a definite jump start. The freedom of writing without as many boundaries let loose an entire new side of me as an author.

By the time I got to the next book, The Mysterious Mrs. Pennybaker, due out this spring, I had a good handle on both my risqué side and pushing the language barrier. Mind you, both books are set in the 1920s, so there was a bit of timeframe language to deal with, but ... naughty words are still naughty words.

By the time my next project comes out I should be old hand at this ... I hope. And, if I long for a traditional story, or want to push less boundaries, I’m confident I can backpedal and find the perfect home for even the softest of romance novels.

In the meantime, it’s back to the next idea and that dratted social media schedule. It’ll be fun to see what trouble I can get into next. 

Knockin' Boots

   For those of you who read my books, you know I like to write about troubled heroes. For example, Blake Massie in Soul Dreams had survived a horrific fire with scars. In Knockin’ Boots, Clint Gorman is a tired veteran of the battles in Afghanistan and suffering from a from of PTSD. He estranged himself from the only members of his family remaining and he can’t seem to find peace no matter where he goes. On his huge motorcycle he’s riding the country looking for someplace he can find that peace of mind and people he can relate to.

   But this is a fairy tale, right? Where people’s wishes can and do come true? So maybe the old man telling the story knew exactly what Clint wants and needs and magically led him in this direction, to a chance meeting at a boot store in the tiny Texas town of Whistling Creek. The out-of-the-blue invitation he receives from Dan Franklin and his wife, Kylie, might just be the answer to his prayers.

   “I’d just as soon let the two of you take the lead. But I’m not shy about asking if something pops into my head.”

   “I don’t know if Dan mentioned it, but I do have a secret wish.” Kylie looked at Dan, who nodded. “We would love to find someone to move in with us permanently. Of course, that would be asking an awful lot.”

   “Yeah?” Clint tried not to show his surprise. He’d been in a lot of one-night ménages. Sometimes even two-night encounters. But a permanent one? Would that ever interest him? He gave the other man a questioning look. “And you’d be okay sharing your wife on a regular basis?”

   Dan drained the last of his beer and set the empty on the little table beside the couch. “Hell, yes. I mean, I know there would be a lot of logistics and specifics to work out, but if we could find someone on our wavelength, someone we both wanted to include, that would be the ideal.”

   “But that’s just a dream, you know?” Kylie leaned into her husband. “Today, let’s enjoy each other. I’m more than ready”

   “Sounds good to me.” Yeah, he was more than damn ready, too.

   He wondered if, when it was his turn, he could get Kylie to straddle him in this chair and ride him hard. At the thought, his poor cock, which was already in distress, about strangled itself trying to get free. He tugged on the worn denim of his jeans, trying to ease the pressure.

   Kylie’s low, throaty laugh sizzled his nerve endings.

   “Got a little problem there, Clint?”

   “No, I’m good.” But, of course, he wasn’t. His cock wanted out right that moment.

   “Maybe I can help you.” She set her bottle down beside Dan’s, hopped off his lap, and walked over to the recliner, reaching out her hand. “May I?”

   He didn’t know exactly what she was asking permission for, but what the hell? He nodded, his eyes dropping to her cleavage and the tempting swell of her breasts.

She unfastened the button at the top of his jeans, slowly lowered the zipper, and reached inside. Her fingers eased his shaft through the fly of his boxer briefs and closed lightly over his flesh, stroking it a few times. At her touch, heat flashed through his entire body, and his cock flexed.

   Holy shit! They didn’t waste much time on preliminaries or social niceties. Well, fine by him. He wasn’t much for conversation anyway.

   “Mmm.” She ran her tongue over her plump lower lip in a teasing motion. “This man really has it, sweetie. Maybe you should show him what you’ve got, too.”

   Dan stood up and, as if she’d asked him nothing more than to move a pillow, began stripping off his clothes. When his dick popped free, Clint was sure it rivaled his in length and breadth. The thought popped into his mind that if they both fucked her at once, they’d be filling every inch of her. He hoped she was up for it because the image made his mouth water.

   His eyes widened in surprise, though, once Dan was naked, to see him pull his boots on again.

   “Surprised? Yeah, we’ve got this little fetish. We like to fuck with our boots on.” The man nodded at the box Clint had placed next to his helmet beside the chair. “Good chance to break your new ones in.”

   Clint smothered a smile. This gave a whole new meaning to the term knockin’ boots.

   “Okay, but you have to tell me how it started. You can’t just throw it out there without explanation.”

   They looked at each other, and Dan grinned.

*****

I hope you will join me at all the places where you can find me on the Internet. And be sure to email me. I love to hear from my readers.

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Buck up, cowboy, Ruby’s here!

I love bringing my heroes to their knees, making them suck it up, and endure a challenge. Especially when that man is a cowboy with certain ideas set in stone…or so he thinks.

Not only does my latest release For Ruby’s Love have such a cowboy, but also there is his lover, a CEO, for a spunky horse therapist to deal with.

Book Blurb:

Rancher Calhoun Cordell and businessman Daniel Patterson have struggled for almost two years as a couple, with careers and goals often in conflict. A tragic fire, leading to a traumatized valuable breeding mare, has Calhoun sending for a well-known horse whisperer. Except the man is dead. His daughter, Ruby McMurtry, shows up for the job instead and complicates their lives even more.


Buy Links:  Decadent Publishing || Amazon || Kobo || iBooks || Barnes & Noble

Excerpt:

He pulled open the over-sized front door and gaped at the bit of a woman shivering on the porch. She appeared a foot shorter than him and a good sixty or more pounds lighter. What hit him most were her eyes—an odd dark green, like jade or something. Her eyes narrowed as he looked her over.

Finally, she stretched to her full minimal height and bristled at him. “When you’re done checking me out, do you think you could let me inside? It’s colder than cold out here.”

Daniel stepped beside him and intervened. “Let the lady in, Cal.” He looked around her and asked, “Where’s your car? Assuming you drove here.”

She slid between them into the tiled foyer before turning back. “No car. And I didn’t drive here, at least not exactly.” Her teeth chattered.

Calhoun closed the door against the sharp winter breeze and watched her pull off a battered pink Stetson, unveiling chin-length strawberry-blonde hair. “What does ‘not exactly’ mean?” He added, “Who are you, anyway?”

She worried her trembling lower lip and glanced from him to Daniel and back. She pulled off a glove and stuck out her hand. “Ruby McMurtry.”

Instead of taking her hand, he puffed up in annoyance. “You’re late! Where’s your father?”

She started to lower her hand, glowering at him.  But he noticed something besides anger in the depths of those enchanting eyes. He couldn’t get a handle on the emotion.

While he tried to calm down, wishing he hadn’t jumped on her, Daniel reached out and shook her very red-looking hand.

“You feel like ice,” he said in concern. He took a second to scowl at him.

As she blinked at her hand sandwiched between Daniel’s, her already pink-chilled cheeks turned pinker. “I should’ve worn my thicker gloves,” she muttered in clear discomfort. When she managed to slip free, she glared at him.

A twinge of guilt about his rude behavior passed through him, but his anger came out first as he repeated himself. “Where’s your father? I have a serious bone to pick with him.”

Those eyes that still captivated him welled up with tears. His gut tightened.

Her lower lip wobbled and she sputtered, “He…he…he’s dead.”

Buy Links:

 

CONTEST: In honor of my spunky cowgirl, I am giving away a pink and black ball hat claiming “Hell Hat No Fury Like a Woman in Spurs.” Leave a comment about why you love a cowboy and include your email address. One lucky commenter will be chosen on January 27^th.

Where to find Starla Kaye Online:

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A Christmas Sleigh Ride

***SPOILERS***

This scene takes place after the ending of Everybody Hates Fruitcake

My heart pounded in my chest as I waited in the barn. Absently, I patted the reindeer I’d selected to pull my sleigh. She huffed, stomping her hoof and antsy to go. I was a bit anxious myself. An hour ago, I’d left Jimmy in the great Hall, still unable to believe he actually liked fruitcake.

Could this be happening? Had I found a man to accept the very thing I had been hiding from everyone?

Movement at the barn door caught my attention and my grin almost made my cheeks hurt when I saw Jimmy.

Cheeks flushed and pink from the cold air, he was all bundled up in a grey fur coat. He gave me a happy wave. “Hey, Ivan.”

“You came,” I said with a rush of relief.

Jimmy quirked one eyebrow. “Did you think I wasn’t going to show up?”

I looked sheepishly at the ground, shuffling my feet. “Well, it would only be fair considering I didn’t show up yesterday.”

“True,” he said with a shrug. “But you said there were some things to work out, so I guess I get that.” He gave me a hopeful smile. “As long as you plan on letting me in on them eventually.”

“I will, I promise,” I said and it was true. Now that I knew he liked the taste of fruitcake, I couldn’t wait to tell him everything!

Jimmy gave the rail of my sleigh a pat, rattling it a bit as if testing it for stability. “So this is your sleigh?”

Embarrassed heat scorched my face. I was such a moron! Jimmy came from a royal family and my sleigh was big, bulky and rough around the edges, kinda like me. Why hadn’t I thought to borrow someone else’s? “I can get another one if you don’t like it. I can—”

Jimmy put his hand on my arm and I stopped talking immediately. “It’s perfect, Ivan. Relax. Why are you always so nervous?”

I chuckled, unsure how to answer that without sounding like a lovesick fool. Knowing that he loved fruitcake should have made this easier but I had never had a boyfriend before. Surreptitiously, I crossed my fingers, hoping that was where this was headed.

Clearing my throat, I gestured to the seat. “After you.”

I took his hand and helped him up. Once we were both seated and I had the reigns, Jimmy reached over and took my hand in his.

Though we both wore gloves, warmth from his touch went through me faster that the hottest cocoa on the coldest day. Overcome with affection, happiness, and gratitude, I gave into the one thing I’ve been dying to do for over year.

I kissed him.

Not a passionate kiss, full of hot promise, just a gentle brush of lips. When I pulled back, those green eyes met mine and we came together once more, our tongues connecting briefly, like the delicate kiss of a snowflake on a chilly cheek.

Cheeks reddening, Jimmy turned away and looked down at our clasped hands. His thumb ran along the length of mine and the air frosted around his mouth as he let out a sigh. “So where we going, Ivan?”

Holding onto the reigns with one hand—there was no way I was letting go of this elf ever again—I gave the reindeer a giddy-up. “Wherever you want, baby. Wherever you want.”

Deanna Wadsworth might be a bestselling erotica author, but she leads a pretty vanilla life in Ohio with her wonderful husband and a couple adorable cocker spaniels. She has been spinning tales and penning stories since childhood, and her first erotic novella was published in 2010. When she isn’t writing books or brainstorming with friends, you can find her making people gorgeous in a beauty salon. She loves music and dancing, and can often be seen hanging out on the sandbar in the muddy Maumee River or chilling with her hubby and a cocktail in their basement bar. In between all that fun, Deanna cherishes the quiet times when she can let her wildly active imagination have the full run of her mind. Her fascination with people and the interworkings of their relationships have always inspired her to write romance with spice and love without boundaries.

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Everybody Hates Fruitcake

Ivan has the bad luck to be the only elf at the naughty North Pole with fruitcake-flavored cum—and he’s not telling anyone. When fellow elf Jimmy hits on him, Ivan fears revealing his secret and losing a chance to have a real relationship with the sexy elf.

After all, everybody hates fruitcake!

Danni's wife Sheila is the Head Chef at the North Pole. Unfortunately, while Sheila hunts for the perfect recipe for fruitcake, she neglects her wifely duties. So when Ivan tells Danni about his dilemma, she devises a plan to solve both of their problems.

Can these two girls help Ivan realize he is perfect just the way he is? Will Danni's wife perfect her fruitcake recipe with Ivan's special ingredient? But most importantly, will Ivan have the courage to take Jimmy up on his offer?

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EXCERPT:

   A soft hand caressed mine. “Why don’t you like Jimmy?”

   Naturally, Danni wouldn’t let it drop. “It’s not that,” I answered. “I like him a lot, actually. That’s the problem.”

   She shook her head, her long black ponytail swaying. “That makes absolutely no sense.”

   “Of course you don’t get it.” I brushed a lock of silky black hair off her brow. Her bangs were always falling in her eyes, and she didn’t flinch from my familiarity. “You’re perfect.”

Grinning, she said, “Well, that’s obvious. But it still doesn’t explain why you say you like Jimmy, yet you ignore all his advances.”

   “Because I don’t know if I should do anything about it. He’ll just end up being disappointed.”

   “I’m still going to go with, that makes absolutely no sense.” She gave me a head to toe once over. I managed a smile when she tipped back to take in my ass and give me a whistle—she was such a flirt. “You’re gorgeous, Ivan. And you’re funny. You forget I’ve seen you take care of those pathetic earthbound reindeer.”

   “They’re not pathetic.”

   “See what I mean? All the other Dökkálfar in the stables prefer to work with the flyers. But not you. You’re kind and patient. A real caregiver. So I ask you, what would Jimmy have to be disappointed about?”

   I squirmed in my seat, unsure if I should tell her, but desperately wanting to. I had not breathed a word of it since I’d arrived, preferring to have my choice of lovers, rather than be laughed at like I had been in my hometown. But something about the sincerity, the kindness in Danni’s brown eyes made me feel like I should trust her. Like it was finally time to tell someone the truth.

   “Because I taste like fruitcake.”

Pick up your copy of Everybody Hates Fruitcake today!

Christmas Whimsy at the Ofice

By Starla Kaye

The holidays are very special to me, especially Christmas. My holiday time (like most of you) includes, getting together with friends, the seemingly endless number of parties to attend, finding just the right gifts to give, and decorating. Sometimes there is stress involved and sometimes I have a moment or two of “When will this all end?” Anyone else ever feel that way?

I have an office in my husband’s accounting firm and I am always the office that staff and clients drift to see throughout the year. As you can guess, the other offices are…well, pretty conservative. Not mine, ever. I like to surround myself with fun stuff, like my collection of Western decorative items and stuffed cows. The cows represent the Blossom the cow stories I write for fun, and plan to turn into a children’s book series.

The firm has an annual office open house and they decorate, again fairly conservatively. Until they see my office with my whimsical cow tree. Then I bring in and share with everyone some of my Santa collection, my moose collection, and my snowman collection. The party attendees love seeing it all and that warms my heart.

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season.

Coming Soon: 

For Ruby’s Love

I have been drawn to cowboys since I watched my first Western movie years ago, and I have known a few over the years. As a writer, I have long enjoyed writing Western romance with my versions of the hunky, rough-edged, stubborn man in faded blue jeans, chambray shirt, scuffed boots, and a Stetson. And I have great fun matching my cowboy up with someone who will challenge him.

My cowboy in this story, Calhoun, first appeared in The CEO and the Cowboy, where after a surprising turn of events for him, he ended up finding a Happily-For-Now with Daniel (the CEO).

But in the back of my mind their story wasn’t ready to end there. They needed someone who would come into their lives, shake it up, and weave her way into their world…someone neither could resist, Ruby.

Where to find Starla Kaye Online:

Website – Twitter – Facebook – Pinterest – Goodreads – Amazon Author Page