Thunderstruck!

Only 99 cents for a limited time!

By Taryn Kincaid

So I need to watch TV.  No apologies. I really, really, really need to watch TV.

Sometimes I come home from the job outside in the real world, with real people, and my brain and body are absolutely fried. I can graze Facebook a little, but only because I think I have to. My Twittering has drastically fallen by the wayside over the past few months because, essentially, I can’t keep up.  Sometimes, I can’t even play Spider Solitaire or Free Cell.

So…back to me and TV…. Now, in the dead heat of summer, there is absolutely nothing on.  This drives me nuts. Over the past two weeks, I have watched two On Demand movies that have the world “Quartet” in the title. I have watched two On Demand movies that have to do with people staging operas in the English countryside with lovely grounds and scenery. I know nothing about opera, you understand.

But I expect my DVR to be getting quite the workout again this fall.

Did you hear? FOX is coming out with a new TV series called Sleepy Hollow.  I am sooo there. The TV series looks all kinda dark and mystical. But somehow, I don’t think it’ll ever get as steamy as my Sleepy Hollow series. 

Heat Wave, the fourth in the Sleepy Hollow series of hot & sexy paranormal 1Night

Stand stories is coming out next month.

To celebrate the Heat Wave release (and maybe some other good news about Sleepy Hollow to come), Decadent was gracious enough to reduce the Amazon price of Thunder, the second 1Night Stand book in the series, to the grab-it-now price of 99 cents!

So…grab it now! It’s a limited time offer, until July 27.

Here’s the link:  THUNDER on Amazon.                                

And here’s a blurb and excerpt. Happy Reading!

BLURB:

Lonely young witch, Veronica Hardwicke, has struggled to get on with her life after the death of the elderly husband who’d left her a fortune and a sprawling estate in mystical Sleepy Hollow. When frightening things go bump in the night on a stormy Fourth of July, who better to call than the sexy developer and contractor, Sean Jones, who's been renovating her mansion for months?
 

Sean may grace the tabloid pages with a different supermodel on his arm every night, but it's Veronica who drives him nuts. Ignoring his instinct to stay away, he answers her summons.

Will the thundering passion of their 1Night Stand tear down the barriers between them?  

EXCERPT:

   Veronica paced back and forth in the grand entry foyer of the Belmont mansion, the kitten heels of her Prada mules clacking on the marble floors.

The rest of the place might not be finished, but she’d insisted on having a few rooms completed, so at least she felt like she was living in a home, rather than a massive, never-ending construction project. Well, her contractor had insisted, even though working around the main entrance and central hallway created more work for him and his crew. But she was forced to admit he was right.

   Her cell phone chimed on top of the antique credenza shoved flush against one wall. She leaped for it. Probably Geneviève, to regale her with all the fun she was having in Paris. Or Sean, to advise her he couldn’t make it after all. She sighed and read the text message on the small screen.

   Congratulations, Veronica. 1Night Stand has found your date. Have a good time.

   With both anxiety and mounting excitement, she stared at the screen and waited. No other info. Outside in the night, thunder boomed. She jumped then laughed at herself.

   Ghosts are one thing, but freaking out at the weather now? Cripes, you really do need this date!

   She let her imagination run wild, then texted back for more details: When? Where? Who?

   An insistent pounding at the front door jarred her out of her fantasy. She swung the door open on another explosive crack of thunder.

   Sean stood on her doorstep, his soaked T-shirt molding sculpted pecs and abs, his drenched hair flattened over his brow. Rain poured down as he fiddled with his iPhone, a bemused expression on his face. Behind him, jagged arrows of lightning tore the dark sky. He glared at the screen, glanced at her in confusion, then back at the screen.

   Veronica’s own phone pinged again. Thunder roared. She read the message in disbelief.

   You’re looking at him.

~ TARYN

Taryn is an Olympic caliber athlete egg roller and spends a great deal of her time petitioning the U.S.O.C. to introduce a fantail shrimp competition. When she's not bungee jumping off the Palisades or parasailing up and down the Hudson River, she devotes her time to caring for her aging pet walrus, arranging her voodoo doll-pin collection and practicing rhythmic chants. At this moment, she is busy sweeping up the loose masala chai tea leaves she spilled all over the kitchen floor. (Probably because she needs COFFEE.) Wait. Is that something…sparkly?

Taryn hangs around a lot on Facebook and Twitter with her bazillions of fans. Or find her at her website: tarynkincaid.com 

Other Decadent Publishing books by Taryn Kincaid: 

An interview with Campbell

Buy Lightning HERE

by Taryn Kincaid

   So first off, two things you should know:

   My name is Campbell Jones. My babe talked me into doing this.

   “Real men don’t do blogs,” I tell her.

   She snorts with laughter. “No worries in that department, big guy.”

   Her laugh gets to me. I love her laugh. Hadn’t heard it for ten years and it frickin’ haunted me all that time. She can talk me into doing almost anything with a crook of her finger and that killer little giggle.

Okay, anything.

Especially if she’s naked.

   Her name is Lily Night. She’s a succubus. Not a demon, though. Just an immortal who needs sex to live. Lots and lots of really hot sex. With me. Otherwise, her electrolytes and hormones and stuff get all out of whack and that is not usually a great thing for the power grid on the eastern seaboard. Yeah, okay. I admit it. I have it damn frickin’ good.

 

   If you really want to know the truth, Lily can occasionally be a demon when she’s trying to talk me into something, though. Like this blog post. Or in bed. Yeah, she can kind of a demon there. But that would be telling. And it’s not like I don’t crave it.

   So anyway, a demon succubus named Bambi or Bimbo or Taffy or something like that – hold on, Lily’s yanking on my belt --“Bunny,” she corrects me – Yeah, okay, so a demon succubus named Bunny interviewed the babe recently and you can read all about that tomorrow on the 1Night Stand blog. I understand it might be something of a snark fest. I’m just hoping against hope they didn’t dish too much about me. Hell, in real life I’m an architect, one of the partners, along with my brother Sean of By Jones. Sean used to appear in the tabloids from time to time. But I don’t really need the deets of my sex life splattered all over the frickin’ internet.

   “Come on,” Lily says. “Do the Daily Dose of Decadence blog. It’ll be fun.”

Yeah, about as much fun as root canal. Without the anesthetic. Or lying comatose in a hospital bed for six months. Which is where my babe, the great love of my life, landed me after our first smokin’ hot time together. On our prom night. Yeah, so I didn’t think I’d ever forgive her that. Especially since I ended up with some weird abilities. You know like when you’re watching one of those commercials for erectile dysfunction and they talk about side effects—— Wait. Lily’s yanking on my belt again.

“So not a problem,” she says.

Yeah. Guess not. Not a problem at all.

Even if it did take Madame Eve to bring us back together again

.

You can read all about Lily and me in LIGHTNING

Here’s the official excerpt:

 “A little higher and more to the left.”

Lily Night narrowed her eyes as the building maintenance man shifted her framed diploma on the freshly-painted wall opposite her desk. She tried not to ogle the firm ass encased in a pair of tight jeans or the way the man’s shoulder muscles rippled beneath his T-shirt.

Maybe if I pop an Altoid, I’ll have an excuse to wipe away the drool.

She refrained from jumping the handsome worker dude’s bones. The last time she’d dallied with a human, the encounter had not gone well. Vivid images of that long ago prom night bombarded her. Campbell Jones had been a young, strapping, hunk-and-a-half football player and they’d started their date full of hope and expectation and lust. When he’d adjusted the fragrant gardenia corsage on her wrist, she’d inhaled his crisp, citrus scent and thought she might swoon at the sight of him in his tux. The black material stretched across broad shoulders that mirrored the promise of the bruising man he’d be in his prime. But she’d all but sucked him dry as flashes of lightning crackled over their heads. By the time dawn painted the sky, she’d turned him into a mere shadow of his former self. Literally.

And briefly knocked out cell phone service in the lower Hudson Valley, as well.

She’d sworn off humans ever since. Instead, she pulled all-nighter after all-nighter to evade the dreams in which men called to her—and to avoid the university dating scene that inevitably led to frequent and addicting sex.

Mortals. Bleh.

You can read all about Sean and his squeeze in THUNDER