Monday, July 30th, 2012
When the hot band Murder City Ravens gets its dream, when it gets a number one album and single and suddenly the world is watching—that’s great, right?
But V, Jace, Donovan, Hunter, Zazz and Riku have other dreams, other places to go. The success shocks them. It means luxury hotels instead of motels and vans, acclaim and attention, all they need to carry on being the great band that has caught the fickle eye of the media. It puts a big stop on anything else they’d considered doing, and demands their total commitment to making Murder City Ravens stellar. A year-long world tour rips them away from their lives, and puts them in the brightest spotlight the world can provide.
New opportunities. New hot connections with partners who take them by storm, coming at what seems like the worst possible time. Each member of the band has a choice to make, and it could affect the band as a whole. But they can’t walk away from what they’ve found and they can’t ask their new love to give everything up for them, and the sake of the new album.
Published By: Ellora’s Cave
Available from all good e-booksellers from 20th July 2012
Genre: Contemporary romance
The sound of a saxophone drifting out of a Chicago blues club sends Matt inside, hoping to sign the player for his recording studio. Instead he finds V. Passion drives them from that moment on, and Matt can’t get enough of her sweet body and generous spirit. But as a former drug addict who spectacularly crashed out of the rock band Murder City Ravens, he has a lot to prove.
V thinks she’s happy with her lot until she receives an offer to join one of the most innovative and exciting bands in the world. Joining Murder City Ravens could sever her from Matt forever. How can she join the band when she’s spending her nights with the man who nearly destroyed everything they had?
Matt and V have decisions to make that might give them their life’s dream, but could split them apart. Which is more important, personal fulfillment or love? Is it possible to have both?
A breath of a note shivered through the air as the club door opened. Matt paused, then stayed to listen. It sounded great. Better than great. Whoever was playing that saxophone knew how to wrench the heart out of the music.
Abruptly changing his plans for the evening, he walked toward the door. Chicago had managed to turn a thriving music area into a tourist trap, but for those who knew where to look, a few of the old style clubs remained. Clubs that attracted tourists but were still all about the music. After all, tourists loved music too.
This type of club didn’t have people queuing behind velvet ropes and VIP areas or tourists turning up in droves. The savvy might pick this place out, because it was small and laid back and looked as if it had been there for some time.
The man at the door looked at him, then blinked and stared, dark eyes widening. “Are you Maxx Syccoraxx?”
He grinned. “People ask me that all the time.” He was used to the question by now. It was better than, “Didn’t you used to be Maxx Syccoraxx?” Yes, that was who he used to be; lead singer with an up-and-coming rock band. No more. Drink and drugs had finished all that for him, burned him out. Now, with his body filled out and hair cropped short, he looked like a different man, but sometimes people still recognized him.
He hadn’t done so badly. He was still here, unlike some of the people he’d met in his wild years. And he had to admit, the band had gone on to greater things without him, mainly due to his replacements and the way they gelled with the other members. Though sometimes he had to grit his teeth before he admitted it. Failure never came easy, but he was in the process of mending his reputation and his fortune. That worked for him.
He strolled into the club. Inside, the place looked pretty normal. A bar ran down one side of the room with stools set in front of it, about half of them occupied, and the other side had small tables with bentwood chairs or simple wooden stools arranged around them.
Every time he entered a place like this, chills of recognition and excitement went up his spine. He just felt it, like coming home. This was where he’d started, in the small, smoky, sometimes seedy clubs and bars, in his case in New York. He never lost that excitement, and if he ever did, he’d start worrying.
He’d arrived in time. The saxophonist was playing an extended riff on Summertime, always one of Matt’s favorites. His mother said she’d sung it to him when he was a baby, and it was true he couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t know that song.
And now another time, another place, another version. A magical version. He let the notes wreathe around him, luring him into listening to more, but he wouldn’t look at the stage until he’d heard more. If the player was male, he still wanted sex with him, just from the seductive music, although his usual preference ran to something softer and rounder. The kind with gentle voices, plump breasts and sweet, shivering bodies.
Shit, he was one sex-starved bastard. He’d been too busy to think about sex recently but that changed abruptly when he’d heard the first notes of the song.
He bought a beer at the bar, then found a seat at one of the small tables at the back. The man who served him glared at him, his gnarled, brown hands showing nicks and scars from old brawls, but he didn’t comment. Matt would bet this guy had made him for sure. Seen a lot of life, that guy.
He’d deliberately kept his attention away from the little stage at the front of the room. He wanted his first aural perceptions unaffected by anything he saw. Now, sitting alone at a small table, he looked up. And lost his breath.
The sax player was tall and slim, with soft bits in all the right places, and she wore a short, sassy dress in an antique gold color, a foil for the blonde hair that flowed down her back and curled around her body. Strands of it clung to her instrument as if they wanted to bind the two together, player and sax.
The notes shuddered through him, through her, as they did through the dozen or so patrons here tonight. An inner voice told Matt to snatch her away, lock her up somewhere he could enjoy her and nobody else could get to her. This was his music, she was playing for him alone.
© Lynne Connolly, March 2012
Wednesday, July 25th, 2012
I’m so excited to host Kele Moon today and be one of the stops on her current bog touter. Kele is one of my very favorite authors and reading her books is always a wonderful emotional experience. If you aren’t reading her already here’s your chance. Be sure to comment.Kele is giving away a $25 GC to one lucky winner drawn at random at the end of the tour
Star Crossed (Battered Hearts Book 2)
Heavyweight UFC fighter, Romeo Wellings comes from the hard streets of New York where his family ties to the mafia cause him nothing but pain. His life takes a surprising detour when he crosses paths with the twin sister of his long time enemy. After a steamy one-night stand, he faces the fight of his life, but it’s not in the cage. The secret relationship that blooms between Romeo and his real life Juliet has him battling his family and a dark past rather than let her go.
The only lawyer in her hometown of Garnet, Jules Conner is also a volunteer Sheriff’s deputy and co-owner of a successful MMA training center. Strong and dependable, Jules is always there for those who need her. Until one forbidden night in Las Vegas with Romeo leaves her feeling so alive she can’t stop reaching out to the sexy, bad boy of MMA, even knowing the forbidden love affair could jeopardize everything.
As the tide rises against them and the people they love work at keeping them apart, Romeo and Jules hold onto a dream for a better life together and vow to go down fighting rather than accept a tragic ending.
“What’re we gonna do about that, Juliet?” Romeo sat back in his chair and ran a hand over the fine hairs on the back of his neck as he studied her. “You don’t strike me as a rule breaker.”
“I’m not,” she assured him. “I always play by the rules.”
“Nope, not tonight. I told my brother I was out on a date with a cop.”
Romeo had been taking a sip of his water but coughed into his glass. Then looked at Jules with wide eyes and laughed. “Are you friggin’ kidding me?”
“No.” Jules laughed with him. “Wyatt hates you. I couldn’t tell him I was buying you dinner.”
“I’m personally insulted by that.” Romeo did a very good job of feigning insult. “I don’t think I like being your dirty secret.”
“I’m sorry.” Jules frowned before an incredulous laugh burst out of her. “Were we pretending to be allies? You’ve been bad-mouthing my best friend and my brother to the media for the past four months.”
“That’s part of the game. It’s what the promoters want. It’s what the fans want, and I like to give the fans what they want seeing as they’re the ones who make sure I get a paycheck. And I thought we already decided we weren’t enemies.”
“True,” Jules had to reluctantly agree. She took another bite of her forgotten dessert, letting the sweetness rest on her tongue for a long moment before she sighed. “I’m not real sure what we are.”
“What would you like us to be?” Romeo countered tauntingly, his tone daring her to be honest.
Jules sat there quietly as she considered her answer. She really didn’t want to be enemies with him, not after tonight, not after what he’d done this morning. She genuinely liked him, but it was more than that. She was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Everything in her was humming for something she was finding hard to name. Friendship, sure, but there was something much more carnal between them. The word lovers seemed all wrong; it implied something soft and sweet and romantic, which was the very last thing she wanted from a man like Romeo.
“Sweaty and naked,” Jules finally settled on. “Wild, sweaty, and naked. That’s what I want us to be.”
Romeo sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes widened. His entire body tightened as if something electric had struck him, but Jules had to give him credit. He recovered quickly and leaned forward as his voice dropped to a low hum of arousal. “You wanna take off?”
A freckle-faced redhead born and raised in Hawaii, Kele Moon has always been a bit of a sore thumb and has come to enjoy the novelty of it. She thrives on pushing the envelope and finding ways to make the impossible work in her story telling. With a mad passion for romance, she adores the art of falling in love. The only rules she believes in is that, in love, there are no rules and true love knows no bounds.
So obsessed is she with the beauty of romance and the novelty of creating it, she’s lost in her own wonder world most of the time. Thankfully she married her own dark, handsome, brooding hero who has infinite patience for her airy ways and attempts to keep her grounded. When she leaves her keys in the refrigerator or her cell phone in the oven, he’s usually there to save her from herself. The two of them now reside in Florida with their three beautiful children, who make their lives both fun and challenging in equal parts—they wouldn’t have it any other way.
Tuesday, July 17th, 2012
If you’ve ever wondered what would happen between the sheets with Elizabeth Bennet and Mr Darcy, you’re in luck.
Clandestine Classics founder Claire Siemaszkiewicz said: ”Some people will love this and some will hate it. We’re hoping we’ll change their minds or blow their minds.”
Clandestine Classics launches today, with five classics heated to the point of boiling. I am excited to be one of the launch authors with my version of Northanger Abbey. The original novel still stands with the erotic scenes interwoven with the original story.
The storm still raged, and various were the noises, more terrific even than the wind, which struck at intervals on her startled ear…She began to wish for Henry Tilney to find his way secretly to her room to help allay her nervousness.
When the door to her room opened she searched frantically for something with which to defend herself… “What are you doing here?” she whispered, noticing he had divested himself of all his clothes save a thin pair of breeches and a loose shirt.
“I feared the storm would disturb you and wanted to ease you through it… Open your mouth for me, sweet Catherine,” he urged. “Let me in.” She did and when his tongue swept inside it filled her with pleasure.
The first five Clandestine Classics are: Jane Eyre, Northanger Abbey, Pride and prejudice, A Study in Scarlet and Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. Here is the link to preorder them:
More than a dozen article appeared today in publications in the UK and the publisher is doing media blitz including radio and television appearances.
Check this all out and be the first to preorder the books.
Wednesday, June 27th, 2012
- Tuesday, 26 June 2012
Meet 76-year-old grandmother Desiree Holt: the world’s oldest author of erotic romance, wth over 100 steamy novels and ebooks to her name and counting.
Meet grandmother Desiree Holt — at 76, the world’s oldest author of erotic romance. Silver-haired Desiree Holt qualified for a free bus pass in 1996, but has spent her retirement writing over 100 “scorching-hot” sexually explicit novels and e-novels to the delight of fans around the world.
Until now, many readers believed the bestselling author of such steamy works as “On the Prowl” and “Carnal Caresses” was a buxom heroine like the ones featured in her books — released by British erotic romance specialist Total-E-Bound Publishing.
But Holt — whose ‘behind-the-bedroom-door’ stories often involve kinky sex play such as bondage, dominance and threesomes — has decided to come clean about her age.Holt, who cites the runaway success of British author EL James’s number one bestseller Fifty Shades of Grey as helping the genre gain mainstream acceptance, said: “When I first started writing, erotic romance was still looked down on by many people as nothing more than a form of porn.
“But the incredible popularity of Fifty Shades of Grey has really opened readers’ minds to the genre, to the point where it’s fine to admit that I am a pensioner in my mid-seventies who just so happens to write about passionate, erotic relationships.
“I’m one of Total-E-Bound’s best-selling authors of this genre and the demand for my books is growing all the time. I think that’s because erotic romance is a powerful form of fantasy — women, and men too, can read it and imagine themselves in place of the characters, doing and feeling things they might be too shy about in their everyday existence.
“Many readers have told me that my stories give them confidence to spice up their sex lives, experiment and express their sexuality. I guess in that respect I’m a bit like an agony aunt, only more graphic.”
Claire Siemaszkiewicz, founder of digital publishing company Total-E-Bound, said: “Desiree has been with us for four years now and in that time has become a firm favourite with readers.“We believe she is the oldest writer of erotic romance in the world, but I’m sure none of her fans will be concerned with her age. The quality of the stories and characters is the important thing to them, not how many candles the writer blows out each birthday.
“If anything, Desiree should be seen as an empowering figure in the fight against age discrimination. There’s no reason why sex should be taboo for older people.”
Born in 1936, mother-of-three Holt carved out a successful career for herself in journalism, PR and music management — looking after a number of small-time rock bands — before retiring in 2000 at the age of 64.
At first she planned to spend her golden years fulfilling a life-long ambition to write mystery novels — but became “hooked” on erotic romance after buying a “racy” novel to see what it was like.
With the full support of late husband David, Holt “threw” herself into the underground sex scene to research what would be her first erotic romance novel, 2007’s Candy Caresses, joining online forums for the BDSM (Bondage, Dominance, Sadomasochism) and LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender) communities.
Since then she’s published 105 novels, novellas and short story collections, building up a network of regular contacts ranging from mistresses, swingers, and fetishists to Army soldiers — for her latest book, Unconditional Surrender.
Last year, she even visited a bondage club at the age of 75 to gain a better understanding of the worlds she writes about — though, she insists, as “an observer only”.She is now believed to be the world’s oldest author of erotic romance.
She said: “The inspiration for the stories comes from every place and research is always ongoing. I based the hero of one book on my doctor — simply because he’s so sexy.“Another book, my novella All Jacked Up, I wrote for my son, because I wanted him to settle down. It’s about a man reaching forty who’s still waiting for the woman of his dreams only to have the most unexpected female walk into his life. I think he appreciated my motherly concern.
“Though I’ve not tried all the things I write about, I do find them all fascinating — far more so than traditional granny pursuits such as knitting. I’m treated well because I respect everyone as individuals, regardless of whether they express their love through kisses and cuddles or whips and chains.”
Holt, who lives in Texas, US, says that though her family refuse to read her books, they approve of her writing and affectionately call her the “Queen of Hill Country Erotica”.But, she adds, there will always be some people who find her choice of career “distasteful”.
“I was nervous in the beginning because, while my kids are all adults, I am still ‘Mom’ to them and therefore shouldn’t know this kind of stuff. But they are my biggest supporters and brag about me a lot. Even my 20-year-old granddaughter thinks it’s exciting.
“But I do live in a very conservative community and occasionally someone will look at me as if I have a contagious disease when I reveal what I do.“I always tell them that maybe they should read one novella and see that it’s really not what they think. At its heart, erotic romance is still about exploring characters’ relationships and emotions — the sex just helps reveal the intensity of their feelings.”
Desiree Holt’s latest novel, Unconditional Surrender, is available now from Total E-Bound Publishing. Visit www.total-e-bound.com.
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Wednesday, June 20th, 2012
Welcome to the Just Romance Me Summer Solstice blog hop.
Here’s is a fanciful short story of love during the summer solstice. Besides the prizes already available, I’ll give away a choice of ebook from my backlist for the best title.
Remember, connect with http://justromance.me/ to get all the blog links. You must stop at each blog to be eligible for the fantastic prizes.
And let’s see what unique titles you come up with.
It was the day of the summer solstice. The day the Earth tilts just so on its axis and nearly stands still. The beginning of the heat and joy of summer. The traditional moth for weddings. If you had someone to marry.
Lia had always anted a June wedding, maybe out in the meadow behind the big house, with the sun soaring overhead, the meadowlarks singing and the sweet perfume of summer flowers just beginning to fill the air. She even had a vision of what se would wear, a flowing dress of soft linen and a simple veil. All that was missing was the groom.
No, not exactly missing. Just not here. Living on the other side of town with a woman he’d married after only know her for three days. It hurt so very badly to think that all the things between them hadn’t been real after all. At least for him. While she’d been opening her heart and building dreams, he’d been immersing himself in a dark-haired gypsy beauty. He hadn’t even had the guts to tell her himself. Sent a note with his best man.
Two months later the pain had only dulled slightly.
This was the longest day of the year, midway between the spring and autumn equinoxes. But every day had felt this long to her. Endless.
She climbed to the top of a low hill and found a flat rock to sit on, stretching her legs out in the sun. Hoping it would melt the ice around her heart. She knew everyone from the Celts to the Ancient Romans celebrated this day with festivities and love, but she had nothing to celebrate about.
Lying back and pillowing her head on her arms crossed behind it she closed her eyes. She hadn’t meant to drift off but that must have been what happened because suddenly she a deep voice beside her.
“I’ve come to heal you, sweet Lia.”
She sat up abruptly, knocking her elbows on the rock. Crouching beside her was the most magnificent man she’d seen in her life. Long sun streaked hair fell carelessly to his shoulders. Eyes of coffee brow stared at her from beneath darker lashes. And his smile. Oh, dear lord. It could melt the heart of a rock.
He reached for her hand to help her to her feet.
“Who—who are you?” she stammered, mesmerized by his eyes and his touch.
“Why, don’t you know, sweet Lia? I’ve come to celebrate the solstice with you and bring you the love you longed for. Come.” He tugged her along with her. “Tonight is a night of celebrating, and I’ll give you one beyond belief.”
She was sure she was crazy but as she let him lead her into the sunlight she felt the ancient priests around her, blessing her. Melting the ice in her heart.