J. J. Massa tells us about a woman in a man’s realm.
Wednesday, October 10th, 2012

Hi, Desiree and Hi to everyone visiting here!

Thanks so much for letting me stop over. Way to go on the recent release of Overnight Sensation and the anthology SWITCH! You’re burning it up, aren’t you?
As for me, I have a few books on the way, and one just out. I’ll get to that. First, the interview questions. What interview questions, you ask?
Well.
I’ve been interviewed a couple of times recently. Honestly, I don’t always know how to answer. In two recent interviews, I noticed I answered a question differently than on the last one. The interviewers are two different people and one hasn’t happened yet. Still, I guess that proves I’m a bit changeable.
The interviews do serve a real purpose though. An author isn’t floundering and trying to figure out what someone else’s blog followers might want. That’s a good thing. What if you don’t really want to know about my neighbor Tom and the ongoing debate about how we are not dating? And I’m not not-dating, either. If you don’t know what I mean by that, good. :- )
Since Desiree didn’t ask me anything, I went to her site and read a little about her. With her colorful history, I thought she might like to know what odd, irregular, or different things I might have done in my lifetime.


One thing I’ve done that can vaguely be considered “a woman in a man’s realm” took place before I was very old. Many of you won’t be familiar with the name Bill “Maverick” Golden. He’s famous for being the owner and driver of “The Little Red Wagon,” a Dodge drag racing/exhibition truck based on the Dodge A100.
Mr. Golden took that truck to Guinness Book of World Records glory in 1977 by performing the longest wheelstand in history, at least at that time. My involvement with the man and his truck is much less glorious.
He lived right behind a restaurant my parents owned in the mid -seventies. The thing is, I had the most terminal crush on his mechanic. James. The mechanic’s name was James. I haunted the place and was eventually pressed into service –even paid every so often. 
I can’t remember every bit of that time, but I do remember how tall and thin James was, and that he had to wear boots all the time because his ankles had been injured or something. I remember the heartbreak I experiences when they went on the road, and how completely blown away, and moved I felt the first time I got a postcard from James while he and Bill were on the road. Though not a great correspondent, he did send me cards or letters, and even called now and then. For a young man free of Arkansas and his very large family of sisters–he had at least four of them–the consideration he showed me, in retrospect, is amazing.
I also remember that the Torqueflite™ Transmission turned out to be much heavier than I ever suspected. Little girls torn between a first crush and tomboy-hood should steer clear of heavy lifting as a way to show off.
One other thing I’ve done that could qualify as odd, irregular or different, is something you really don’t want to hear. I say that because it includes singing. I have a horrible singing voice, which doesn’t usually stop me around the house. In public, I keep my vocal stylings to myself. Except for that one time. I’m pretty sure the singer I was dating at the time, and me, were both trashed. That’s all I can come up with. While I’m not a proponent of public drunkenness, I’ll be forever grateful that the audience, too, enjoyed a few too many libations that night. It was the early ’80s. Folks did those things back then. Legally, even.
Moving on, here’s where I tell you what I’ve written recently and try to interest you in it. So here goes:
 

 Art & Soul
by J.J. Massa
Oliver Crane is a success. He enjoys making movies– losing himself in a new role every few months. Acting allows him to express so many facets of his nature. Dark and intense, he lives his work as the screen’s ideal leading man. What woman wouldn’t want to spend the night in his bed? For that matter, how many men could say they didn’t want him?
Not Thorbjörn  Frisk. Or he wouldn’t deny it, if anyone bothered to ask him. A Swedish artist who immigrated to America in his late teens, Tor often loses himself in his work, avoiding the harsh realities of impatient and intolerant people who have no use for a stuttering sculptor who barely speaks English.
 Each man has invested his very soul into his art. What will it cost in the end?

 Excerpt:

Tor was up to his elbows in plaster, clay, and muck when he heard the disturbance outside. Forcibly ignoring the racket, he immersed himself in finding the rhythm of the piece of art in front of him. The sculpture was a multi-media undertaking commissioned by the wife of a prominent local businessman.
As a rule of thumb, the art trade was competitive if you were into that sort of thing, which neatly ruled Tor out. Born Thorbjörn Matthias Frisk in the Östergötland municipality of Sweden, his family had moved to New York when he was seventeen.
Tor had struggled to fit in with his American peers for many years. This had proved to be impossible in the long run, of course. He was just too different. Though he began to pick up the language here, Swedish would always be his first language. Thus, it would forever be the language he thought in. Where he was from, creativity was highly prized, and nobody cared a whit about sexual orientation.
Things were different here. With a shake of his head, he stepped back to view his project. It was only then that he heard the pounding on his studio door.
Komma in!” he called absently, circling the huge sculpture, assessing what it was and what it might become. As he reached the point where he’d been working, Tor began to back up for a broader view, bumping unexpectedly against something solid.
“What the hell?” a strange voice shouted. “What’re doing? You got…sludge all over me!”
The new voice and unexpected impact caught Tor by surprise, causing him to stumble, grabbing onto the now-gaping stranger. Only, this wasn’t a stranger—not really. While he’d never met the actor, everyone knew Oliver Crane.
Dark hair, square jaw, piercing blue eyes, muscles in all the right places, the man was a god. Currently, however, he was a god covered in what amounted to mud. Sure, it was expensive mud, but mud just the same. Tor, on the other hand, was covered in… Well, he was covered by Oliver Crane. He definitely had the best part of the deal—or so he thought, until he looked into those raging blue eyes.
“Um,” he squeaked, before trying again. “Hallo. What brings you to my verkstad?” At the arching of one dark brow, Tor quickly supplied the translation. “Uh, Verkshop. Stu-d’yo. Studio.”
The burning eyes narrowed before their owner fluidly lifted himself from atop Tor. Before Tor had time to miss his presence, Oliver reached down pulled him up, setting him quickly on his feet.
“I’m lost,” the famous voice snapped impatiently. “Your neighbors seemed to think you were the go-to guy for directions.”
“I-I cannot imagine why,” Tor mumbled pushing his overlong bangs aside. “ Vart går du?” he asked. “Where going?” he tried again. He’d been in this country long enough; he should be fluent by now. Except his thoughts and words always reverted to his native tongue when  flustered or nervous. Worse than that, his stutter increased as well.
Intense eyes studied him, pinning him in place until Tor could barely breathe. “I’m going to Yankee Stadium,” the man ground out finally.
“Oh! This I know,” Tor announced, pleased. “I can show…”
“Can you just write out some directions?” The actor paused, sweeping Tor with another scathing look. “Just draw me a map.”
The words might not have been intended to hurt, but they did.
Hurriedly turning away, Tor shuffled through random papers on his cluttered desk. He hated being so bumbling. Art was his world. Art didn’t judge, only accepted.

J.J. Massa
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Right in the middle of the page–can’t miss it!
Want to hear a witch whisper?
Tuesday, October 9th, 2012


Whisper of a Witch

by Suza Kates

BLURB:

Biologist Shauni Miller, a beautiful as she is compassionate, harbors a secret that could alter her life forever. If she chooses to share it. Dr. Michael Black helps Shauni in her time of need, but sees more in the raven-haired temptress than she ever meant to reveal. He knows she’s hiding something, but then, so is he. Both Shauni and Michael have a role to play and decisions to make as a centuries-old prophecy has yet to be fulfilled. Only the fates know if they are meant to be together. Or if one of them has to die.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

EXCERPT 3
“Oh, no you don’t,” she said with a shake of her finger. “I’m not being derailed again.”

“What?” His gaze lingered on her shoulders and the curve of her neck. He wasn’t halfway finished with her, yet. “Yeah. You were going to tell me something.”

“Now you’re catching on. And you were going to tell me how you found me out in those woods.” She looked at the large, golden lump of dog snoring in the foyer. “And don’t tell me it was all him.”

Michael felt his previous mellow aura zipping up tight. She’d relaxed him to the point of pre-catatonia then after one look at her, he’d been aroused again and gunning for round two.

Now he felt neither level of satisfaction. He was back to agonizing over how she would react to his dirty little secret. Hell, she might consider it a breach of privacy, the way he perceived what people were feeling, especially his ability to tune in to her so well. It was like he had a direct line to channel Shauni. All day. All night.

So he did what any fearless man would do. “You go first.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Suza Kates can’t remember a time when she didn’t love books, but two particular memories stay with her. “As a young girl I picked up Little Women, read it straight through, and promptly turned to page one to start all over again. The next book I did that with was Mind Hunter by John Douglas, tales about profiling serial killers.”

Thus a twisted romantic was born.

Throughout her teenage and young adult years, she read everything from horror to historical romance yet never imagined writing anything of her own.

It was during a long, cold winter in a tiny apartment in Germany that Suza picked up a pen and notebook to entertain herself. “The apartment was so tiny, my bed also served as my living room couch. Plus, I shared it with three cats.”

Missing the warmth, the hospitality, and the food of the South, she wrote about those things with a huge dose of family thrown in. She says she still has a sweet spot in her heart for her first book, Southern Moon, but to date, she hasn’t revisited it for submission to her publisher.

Suza followed her heart to Savannah, Georgia, and it was the gorgeous city with its moss-covered oaks and secrets of history that inspired her to consider paranormal romance. “I had an idea about sisters and magic, so I went to work on the first book of The Savannah Coven Series, Whisper of a Witch. The series is still going strong, and I am grateful every day that I took a chance on paranormal romance, a genre I wasn’t very familiar with and had never actually read before writing it.”

Suza has since joined RWA and can’t say enough about this organization. “The education and support are unparalleled. I am so grateful to all of my fellow writers who have offered advice.”

Suza still resides in Savannah and is currently working on her next book. She considers it a perfect day when she can sit at the keyboard with coffee in her cup and one of her cats purring in her lap. 

Tracey Kitts asks Why vampires and do they have to be naked?
Friday, October 5th, 2012

A lot of people (relatives in particular) have asked me why I write so much about vampires. I write werewolves too, but vamps seem to draw the most attention. At least, it gets the most questions. The truth is, I write what I like. When I was in school I read every book that had anything to do with vampires. Anything I could get my hands on that had vampires in it, I read it so thoroughly it could be considered studying. I also wrote a few short and semi-erotic stories about werewolves just for fun. Of course, they weren’t up to par with what is considered erotica now, but it was pretty sexy to me and my friends.
I always knew that I wanted to write professionally some day. It wasn’t something that just came to me out of the blue or something I did on a whim. Everything I have ever done in my life I have viewed as “good writing material.” I knew that each experience, whether it was a job or a relationship that went wrong, would somehow end up in my books. In the case of bad relationships, it could be considered therapy. Ha. Ha. Of course, names have been changed to protect the guilty, but there are a few of those along the way.

Since I always knew I wanted to write and I have always been drawn to vampires, it seemed only logical to me that’s what I’d write about. The other question I get even more often than, “Why vampires?” is “Why sex?”

The short answer: Why not?

Now, for something more in depth:  I love science fiction, but find it grossly lacking in sex. Ha. Seriously, I enjoy a good story but what I also enjoy is a good romance. I used to read the really old romances, the ones you could find at garage sales and such. So, they were really outdated and for my tastes, too … sweet. I wanted a heroine who could kick ass and take names. I wanted someone I could identify with. Someone who wasn’t “pure as the driven snow,” and all that crap. I wanted someone real.

Of course, I also wanted a hero who was sexy beyond imagination. I don’t want the guy next door. Let’s face it, unless Hugh Jackman lives next door, none of us are really interested in normal guys, are we?

I also have a deep love of fantasy. So, you take all that, mix it together (shaken, not stirred) and you get paranormal romance. Paranormal romance is really an adventure for women. We just happen to find romance to be part of the adventure.

I write what I like to read. Why would I try to sell something to someone if I didn’t even like it myself? That’s ridiculous. I love vampires and if we get them alone in the story, someone bettertell me what they look like naked! I don’t know about you, but I’d feel cheated otherwise. Of course, I’m okay with waiting for such a moment (like in the case of a series, which I enjoy writing). But once we get there, I want details. Ha. Ha.

The last and probably best answer I could give is this: Writing is wish fulfillment and so is reading. Who hasn’t fantasized about living forever with some gorgeous hunk? Tall, dark and immortal sounds pretty darn good to me. To never grow old, never get sick and die. And let us not forget, eternal love. I think these are all pretty strong fantasies that most people can identify with, even if they don’t get into the whole, “Bite me,” thing.

Unfortunately, in the area where I live most people just see it as macabre. For the rest of the fang baitout there (like myself), please check out my latest release. LOL For everyone else, I do hope we can move beyond that some day.

My latest release is Bitten and it’s available at Amazon.

For more information me and my books, you can find me at www.traceyhkitts.com

Meet the sexy female sheriff!!!!!
Wednesday, October 3rd, 2012

No one writes sexy westerns better than Cerise Deland. Check this out. It’s great bedtime reading.
I Caught the Sheriff
There’s a new sheriff in town with a strong need to show folks who’s boss. But rancher Lex Coltrane has steered things his way too long to let the sassy redhead with the curvy bod run wild. He figures he’d better catch the luscious sheriff and lay down the law.

Lana jumps at the chance to get Lex into her bed and show him what’s really beneath her badge. Show him how she wants him—tough, tender, attentive. Show him how she needs him— fierce, eager and dominant.

Lana knows Lex is always in charge in bed. But who will be in charge out of it?

Excerpt:   

On a one-hundred-degree Fourth of July in south Texas, Lex Coltrane gazed out upon his two burning problems. One stood across the street glaring back at him. He was the crusty old dude who’

d bought the ranch down the road a piece and hogged all the water in High Maria Creek. The other headed toward Lex on a horse. She was a long, tall drink of cool tea by the name of “Red” Foster, the newly appointed local sheriff, who filled out a pair of j

eans like she’d been born in them and who, if she did not help him soon with his neighbor, needed a whipping something bad.

“And I am just the man to give it to you, too,” Lex murmured as he watched her ride past, waving to the Fourth of July crowd like a

prize filly at a beauty pageant.

“Nice piece of horseflesh.” Lex’s buddy Zack Christianson nodded toward the redhead who sat her quarter horse as regal as the barrel-racing queen she had been at fifteen. “She looks even better than when she was the captain

 of the cheerleading squad. That was more than ten years ago. How does she do that?”

“She’s used to the saddle, Zack.”

The way her thighs hug that mount, she’s an expert at controlling animals. Too bad she has failed to ride herd on my new idiot neighbor.

 

“Working as a deputy down in Zapata County, she patrolled the Rio Grande border every day on horseback.” Lex knew because he sat on the county council that had reviewed her resume.

Zack cocked a brow. “She could patrol me every day and I’d be just fine abo

ut it.”

“Dream on, man.”

I do.

 Shifting to calm his cock, Lex watched her pass and kept his eyes glued to her firm little ass. “Word around town is she’s not looking for a man to keep her bed warm at night.”

Zack pushed his white Stetson up his forehead an

d grinned. “Hell, that’s fine by me. I just want a taste of that sugar, not an all-night meal.”

“Your divorce has got you down, Zack. Not good to limit your time with a woman before you’ve even talked to her. Come on,” Lex urged his friend, “let me buy you

 a beer over at the fairgrounds. I want to take a look at a few of the entries in the 4-H competition.”

“I never refuse the offer of a beer and I’m always looking for good stock.” Zack fell in step beside Lex as they strode through town toward the pens on

the fairgrounds.

The crowds were thick, and it just so happened that Lex and Zack kept pace right behind the end of the parade. This, Lex noted with a twist of his lips, allowed him a continuing view of the rear end of the Bandera County Sheriff’s Posse an

d the tight butt of their new boss lady.

But Ted Plumber stepped right in front of him and obstructed his vision.

“Hey, hey, hey, Red!” he called to her above the din of the brass band and the happy crowd. “Hey, baby!”

“Drunk at eleven in the morning?” Zac

k winced. “Hell, Ted’s getting worse every day.”

Lex saw him reach up to pull the sexy sheriff from her saddle. “Oh, brother. Look out now. She won’t stand for that.”

Zack growled. “She shouldn’t either. The long arm of the law doesn’t want to be cuddled.”

“Or manhandled. Come on.” Lex thumped his buddy on the shoulder and plowed his way through the crowd to get to Lana Foster.

He and Zack got to her side just as their very drunk pal was tugging at her long, white shirt sleeve.

“Sir!” She leaned over in the

 saddle to frown at the man who plucked at her clothes. “Take your hands off me.”

“Lana! Baby!” Ted grinned like a slobbering kid. “Come on down here, girl, and gimme a big smacker. Right…” He tapped his puckered lips. “Here.”

“Sir, I am very sorry,” she t

old him in a no-nonsense tone, “but please remove your hands from me.”

“Aw. You remember me! Ted! From high school! Math class. You were so good.” He swept his wide-brimmed cowboy hat from his head in a gentleman’s gesture of respect. “A kiss. Let’s get to

 it.”

“Ted!” Lex looped an arm under Ted’s while Zack took the man’s other arm. “What say we take you home?”

“No! Party’s jush getting started, Lex. Lemme go.” He tugged to get loose.

Lex held him tighter. “You are making a scene here, Ted. Time to go.”

In a wrench that broke him free of Lex and Zack, Ted lurched toward Lana Foster who had, in the meantime, climbed down from her horse.

This time when Ted went to grab her, he got her around the neck.

She yelped, but braced her legs and in a lightning move,

 shrugged and threw the man off her back.

Zap.

 Ted was on the dusty ground, scrambling up, dirty and mad as a wet hen.

Well I’ll be Switched!!!!!
Tuesday, October 2nd, 2012

 Is submission the answer for strong men looking for relief? Is a role reversal the answer for a couple set in a BDSM relationship? Can a woman in control learn to savor submission? Here are six stories in the BDSM anthology switched which Switch is the key word. Come on. Take a walk n the wild side.
Top or Bottom?’ by Desiree Holt


When you think something is missing from your BDSM relationshiop, maybe it’s time to ask ‘top or bottom?’

Both Keith and Shea were looking for something a little different in the BDSM world. Their chance meeting in an adult toy store gave them the opportunity to switch for an afternoon.

But when their playtime was over, would they be fulfilled? And could they go back to their normal roles or would they still crave something more?

Reader Advisory: This book contains active BDSM play and a high degree of smuttiness.




’Mastering Maya’ by Lisabet Sarai


Behind the mask of control hides a spirit aching to surrender.

Mistress Maya bears the nickname ‘The Ice Queen’. Her precision in administering discipline, her skill in evoking a submissive’s devotion, and her unshakable self�control are legendary in the small but active Boston kink community. From the moment newcomer Master Shark sees Maya flogging a sub at Club Inferno, he’s obsessed with her beauty and power. He’d determined to break through her defenses and bring her the same release she grants to the lucky slaves she tops. When Maya dismisses Shark as young and inexperienced, he offers her a challenge: a night together, during which he’ll show her what it means to be mastered. If he fails to bring her to new heights of sensation, he agrees to become her slave. What begins as a test of wills evolves into something deeper and more intense. As the younger man uses his insight and skill to coax Maya into submission, he comes to understand the wounded spirit hiding behind her mask of control. Can he make Maya trust him enough to surrender? Or will the flawless, untouchable dominatrix take possession of his body as well as his heart?
Reader Advisory: This book contains references to gang�rape and the ignoring of a safe word, which take place prior to the start of the book. It also contains scorching scenes of D/s and pain play.


’

Wagers of Sin’ by Elizabeth Coldwell

Selina will never be a true dominant until she learns to submit…and Marcus bets he can show her how.

Selina prides herself on her skills as a dominatrix, with a string of pretty slave boys as her lovers. But these affairs never last, and her equally dominant best friend, Marcus, knows she needs something more. He claims she’ll never be a true dominant until she learns what it means to submit, and during a day at the races, he offers her a wager to prove it. If his horse wins, she must submit to him for a month. If it loses, he’ll switch and become her slave. When the horse takes first place, Selina’s world is turned upside down. Mistress becomes servant, as Marcus puts her through her paces, issuing instructions she’s forced to obey and making her endure the most public of punishments. But Selina can’t deny she loves the feeling of submitting to her gorgeous friend, even as he tests her to her limits. She might have lost the bet, but has she won the love of a true master?
Reader Advisory: This book contains anal play and all the excitement of a day at the races!



‘Still The One’ by Wendi Zwaduk


She’ll be his salvation if he’s willing to switch.

Being stressed out sucks, especially when you’re in charge of a team. Just ask Eric Trask. The pit crew of the Fifty�Four truck team depends on him. The stress of keeping things running smoothly is wearing Eric down. What’s a guy to do to get a little relief? Janine Walters knows exactly what Eric’s up against. She’s the public relations face of the team. Pressure is all a part of the job. Her outlet for stress just happens to be wielding a crop. Can Eric embrace her methods for stress relief or will her suggestion tear their fragile relationship apart?
Reader Advisory: This book contains the use of a crop, spanking, a little bondage, a little pegging, some toys and a woman who knows how to use a strap on to pleasure her man.


’

Switching Off’ by Amy Valenti


With his collar around her throat and her pulse pounding through her body, can she switch off enough to submit to his every whim?

Nina loves her job in middle management�her dominant personality and organisational skills make her indispensable to her employers. But, when her boss puts too many demands on her department, she finds it impossible to leave her job at her desk and enjoy her weekend with her sexy best friend, Jon. When Jon takes away her phone and tells her she’s not allowed to check her emails until Monday morning, Nina challenges his right to order her around. His response is to kiss her into silence, then to order her to her knees. What’s even more startling is that Nina finds herself obeying although not without a fight. Can Jon succeed in getting Nina to switch off her managerial self as well as her phone? Or will she safeword before she can reach the sublime subspace he’s promised to guide her into?
Reader Advisory: This book contains BDSM play and a woman who shirks her duties at work for a kinky two hour lunch tryst shocking!




‘Who Compels My Strength’ by Lauren Gallagher

’
Can switching roles restore their confidence in their Dom/sub relationship, or are these doubts happening for a reason?

After some seemingly open�minded friends turn up their noses at Bridget and Ian’s kinky lifestyle, both start having doubts of their own. Ian wonders if he truly is mistreating his wife, and Bridget can’t shake her friend’s accusation that she’s a wimp and a doormat for letting her husband beat her. To put their worries to bed, Bridget and Ian switch roles. Tonight, she’s in charge, and they’re each walking in the other’s shoes.
But what happens if those shoes don’t fit?

Reader Advisory: This book contains Dominance/submission, pain play (nipple clamps, flogger)


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