Tuesday, September 4th, 2012

Debuting with the Sassy Seven to celebrate our Naughty Sleepover conference: We’re not only hosting the naughtiest girls gone wild weekend ever, we’ve written a series of stories to go with it. Read the stories then be sure to register for the conference. See the link below.

Releasing October 9 from Decadent Publishing

Sugar Girl by Nicole Austin 

A guy walks into a bar… And finds the girl he shouldn’t have left behind. Their differences kept Candy and Jeremiah apart until finally, the road lead them back where they belong. But in the harsh light of the morning after can she really hold on to a shooting star? 

 Say Yes by Regina Carlysle 
All work and no play is no way to live and J.D. Stone aims to change that after a chance meeting at the Menger Hotel. When the lonely rancher meets sassy photographer, Melissa Bell, the sparks fly and passions burn hot enough to incinerate them both. 

Spank ’Em Cowboy by Samantha Cayto 
Tara hopes to survive her sister’s wedding without a wardrobe malfunction. Rob spots the voluptuous filly and cuts her from the herd. And when she craves someone to take the reins, he knows he’s the right man to saddle her up for the ride of her life. 

 More Than You Know by Cerise DeLand 
One redhead. One bartender. Lots of laughter. A desire so tender that the sheets they burn up together could set the hotel on fire. But can he intrigue a woman who’s older? What if he never lets her out of bed? Will she still want him tomorrow? 

 Overnight Sensation by Desiree Holt 
Pulled together in a crowd by an instant attraction, Abbie and Sam are powerless against the incendiary combustion that consumes them and turn a chance meeting into an overnight sensation 

 Blame it on Texas by Allie Standifer 
Everything’s supposed to be bigger and better in Texas, right? Sexy plus size model Serena Morgan isn’t convinced until Texas country star Kale Winters takes her in a night of passion. Come morning will Kale convince Serena he’s the real deal or Blame it on Texas? 

 When a Lady Meets a King by Brenna Zinn 
Lady Pembrook went to great lengths, traveling thousands of miles and assuming a false identity to satisfy her fantasy of a one-night stand with a real Texas cowboy. But when a mysterious stranger in dark sunglasses threatens to expose her scandalous behavior, a handsome King comes to the rescue. 

 See http://sassyseven.com/ to register for our conference!

Laid Bare – in more ways than one!
Saturday, September 1st, 2012

This was one of Cerise’s first sales to Ellora’s Cave and I couldn’t wait to read it. Then I had to read it again. Night Owl Reviews gave it a TOP PICK. It may be an oldie but it will always be a goodie.

Tate Ryder has spent his life savoring plenty of women—until luscious Anna Stevens comes along, who doesn’t seem to know he’s alive. Then, inexplicably, Anna is attacked outside his condo. Tate keeps her safe by whisking her to his yacht, where he vows to enchant her sleek body with pleasures she’d only imagined.

Anna answers his intimate kisses with scorching caresses and wild revelations. She’s been on the run from thugs for years. She’s not who she claims. But one thing is real—her deep craving for Tate.

Enthralled, Tate lays bare her body…and is equally determined to lay bare her nameless enemy.

Chapter One

Tate Ryder tore his eyes away from the elegant vision of Anna Stevens strolling onto the veranda of his Houston penthouse talking on her cell phone, and reminded himself once more of the three rules he never broke. Don’t borrow trouble. Don’t start anything you can’t finish. And most important of all, don’t fuck the staff.

Leaning back on the railing, he gazed through the glass walls of his condo and faced the party raging inside. He congratulated himself he’d never approached Anna as anything other than the CEO of Ryder Resorts and Spas. God knew, every time he got within twenty feet of his director of oriental meditation services, he needed to chill out. Even now from the corner of his eye, he could feel her seep into his pores. Sense how she’d fished her cell phone from her black satin trousers and answered in the sandpaper contralto that rubbed his body into a hot rash of desire.

Like her voice is the only asset that drives you nuts, Ryder. How about those long legs in those flowing slacks? Those pert breasts poking up in that ruffled silk blouse. The grace of her in stilettos. The full-throated laughter that usually marked her personality. That wasn’t apparent tonight, but what the hell. The whole package drove him crazy.

Don’t fuck the staff, Ryder.

For the past two years, he’d been such a good CEO and followed that rule with her. And it killed him.

Sure, he praised himself for his dedication to being an ethical boss, but damn, if he didn’t still want her. Good thing she hadn’t ever indicated any interest in him. Didn’t matter. Her rich beauty burned his brain. Worse, his cock got locked and loaded every time he looked at her.

He downed a swig of his champagne and cursed his dilemma.

She was nothing like the women who used to attract him. Lithe, delicate, Anna sported a cloud of rich rosewood hair, sprinkles of freckles on her nose, flawless porcelain skin and the biggest set of hazel eyes he’d ever seen. The yoga and Pilatesdirector at the Texas Gulf Coast spa he owned with his brother Cord and sister-in-law Sienna, Anna moved like a sea breeze. She had firm breasts that stood up without benefit of a bra, her huge flat nipples outlined in the ridiculously thin leotards she wore to the club. But what really worked him over were her legs. Long as a gazelle’s, they were beautifully cut from years of working out. The hollow of her inner thigh near her pussy was a curve he longed to bury his face in. Better yet, her thighs were supple muscular treats that deserved to be grasped and opened often by a man who knew how to lavish kisses on her labia and her clit and make her cat purr.

He licked his lower lip, wondering for the thousandth time what her flavor was. Sweet? Salty? Both? His shifted, his cock rising to the fantasy that never left him.

Hell. He swallowed back his frustration. He was the host here in his condo, he should act like it. Mix. Mingle. Try to summon some interest in one of the new women here who neither worked for him nor wanted anything from him except maybe a great time in bed.

Like he’d even been able to get it up for any woman except Anna for the past year. For all the exercise his cock was getting, he might as well become a monk. “Time to think about getting laid with someone you can have.”

“Talking to yourself, Bro?” His older brother Cord clamped a hand on his shoulder. Mona Travis, their friend and owner of another chain of spas in the U.S., stood beside him.

Tate shot them both a grim look. “What I do best.”

Cord chuckled. “Only about one subject.”

Mona arched a long thin brow. “Are you drooling over Anna again?”

Tate scoffed. “Should I wear a billboard?”

“Ever since the day you hired her away from me,” Mona taunted Tate, “you’ve had a fever for the lady.”

“Does not compute, you guys,” Tate warned. “The lady is not interested.”

“I do wonder why,” Cord mused. “You are a catch, man. Rich, good-looking.” He ruffled Tate’s auburn hair.

Tate shrugged. “Says you. But I’m resigned. She’s never given me a second look and my poor damaged ego cannot bear to ask her why. Plus, I am not going to break our rule.” Cord had spoken to Tate frequently lately, recognizing Tate’s desire for Anna was a temptation. But Tate had never broken a trust with his brother—and didn’t intend to. Not for a woman who couldn’t care less for him.

Cord nodded. “Good thinking. Me? I’m just saying good night. I’ve greeted everyone. So we are officially in shape for the opening of the Texas spa. But I’ve got to go home. Sienna needs me.”

Tate smiled. “Sure. Do it. Those twins are demanding little guys.”

“Sienna’s still exhausted from their birth.”

“I’ve got control here. Get the hell out of here and go home to your wife and babies. I’ll show all these folks the door soon anyway. I need my beauty sleep to get an early start in the morning. The boat’s ready, stocked with food and supplies.”

Mexico?” Mona asked.

“Yep,” Tate said. “They screwed up the plumbing on the first foundation and have to pour a new one.”

“And they’re late,” Cord added with a scowl.

“What else is new?” Mona commiserated, then leaned forward to kiss Tate’s cheek. “I’m leaving too, honey. Early day tomorrow with one of my importers from Monterrey.”

“Take it easy, Mona.” Tate smiled at the svelte older woman who had become a good friend over the past few years. As she walked toward the door, he surveyed the people in his living room. The builders, the architects and suppliers for the Texas GulfCoast property mixed with the resort spa’s staff, laughing and joking, celebrating the beginning of construction of the Mexican spa and resort. He glanced at his brother. “Go on, Cord. No worries.”

“Give ’em hell down there, Tate. That new foundation should have been poured last month.”

“Not a problem, Cord.”

As his brother made his way through the throng toward the front door, Tate’s gaze swept the laughing crowd and he noticed that someone did have a problem. Anna.

She still faced the twinkling lights of the Houston skyline on his veranda with her cell phone stuck to her ear and the expression on her face was like nothing he’d ever seen from her. Fear.

What the hell?

She had no family. He’d learned that much about her during the past two years. Friends. Sure, she had droves of girlfriends. He saw them come for her by the carload often to pick her up after work or dart into the spa to meet her for lunch. Men were another story. She didn’t date. Or no men he’d ever heard of. None he’d ever seen her bring to their corporate dinners or parties. He’d wondered at one point if she preferred women all the time, but his sister-in-law Sienna had soon cleared up that misperception.

“Anna is saving herself for Mr. Right.”

That told him four things that alternately thrilled him and destroyed him. She liked men. Wanted one. One right man. But clearly, he wasn’t a candidate.

He examined her now as she argued with whoever was on the other end of that conversation. Was that a man?

Curiosity and jealousy drove him forward. If it was a guy who put that expression on her face, Tate would crush the asshole.

Tate halted in front of her and lifted his chin toward the phone, a question forming on his lips.

She watched him approach, her eyes growing rounder, starker with some terror that made Tate narrow his gaze at her.

She put a hand up to ward him off. “No,” she ordered the person on the other end, “do not do that.” The person replied, something dark, angry and male. “I told you I am not—” She stared up at Tate, blinked and evidently thought better of whatever she had been about to say. “Goodbye. Do not call me again.” She snapped her phone shut and dropped it in her trouser pocket.

“What’s wrong, Anna?”


“Really?” He put two hands to her upper arms. Something he’d never done. But now he was jarred by the feeling of the sleekness he’d yearned for years to touch. He sensed the strength of her triceps. The tension rippling there. “Do you always tremble for no reason?”

She jerked out of his hold. “This is nothing for you to be concerned with.”

He stepped forward and contrary to that rule about borrowing trouble, he raised her chin with two fingers and told her with his voice and his eyes that she couldn’t escape him. “This does concern me. You’re scared. Why?”

“None of your business, Tate.” She pulled away from his touch. “I’ve got to go.”

Once more, she did what she’d done so well for two years—she’d been impersonal with him. Professional. Putting him in his place. Far away from her.

He cursed silently as she marched toward the hall closet and collected her shawl, and flung it over her arm. On her way, she hugged Mona who was saying her own goodbyes to a builder. Then Anna opened the front door and let herself out.

He’d never seen her afraid. Never seen her angry. She was so even-tempered, happy, throwing back her mane of rich chocolate hair to laugh at most of life. That had been the first thing that struck him about her. Her enjoyment of little things, all things small and joyful. He’d never known a woman like that.

And he liked women. Loved to be with them. Especially in bed. With another man to spice up the proceedings. But as years went on and his brother Cord had married and dropped out of their ménages, Tate prowled alone. He found fewer and fewer who attracted him out of bed. And those he did take there were certainly beautiful. But vacuous. Voracious. Self-impressed. Self-gratifying. Eager to say they’d been laid by Super Bowl football legend, Tate Ryder. But Anna was none of that.

And it gutted him that she couldn’t give a rat’s ass if he ever looked at her. Wanted her. Craved her.

But damn if he was going to let some man frighten her.

He strode over to his caterer and instructed him to go around and signal that the party was over.

The host was leaving and determined to break one of his own rules.

With one of the staff.

But it here: http://www.jasminejade.com/productspecs/9781419927171.htm
Also at Amazon, Barnes & Noble and other online book stores

Find Cerise at www.cerisedeland.com and on Facebook and Twitter.
Friday, August 31st, 2012
It’s not untitled, it’s title is Untitled! Come find out why.
Wednesday, August 29th, 2012

Today we welcome Jackie Chanel whose newest release is not untitled, it’s called Untitled!!!!!

Jackie will be awarding gift baskets to two randomly drawn commenters which will include:

– a copy of the Untitled soundtrack
– a “I like Big Books and I cannot Lie” totebag
– Untitled themed or guitar shaped keychains

– $20 Amazon gift card. 

I had the pleasure of reading Untitled and highly recommend it. If you love a powerful love store developed against a background of clashing cultures, this book will pull you in and keep you until the last page.

Jackie, tell the readers a little bit about yourself, please.

I know everyone asks this but why did you decide to write romance?

I decided to write romance because deep down inside, I am a hopeless romantic.  Unfortunately, I’ve never had the type of romance novel love (like most people) and I decided to live vicariously though my writing. 

What was the hardest thing you had to do when you started?

The hardest thing that I had to do was actually focus on writing and make myself believe that I wasn’t doing it as just a hobby anymore, that I wanted to make a career out of it.

What was the easiest thing?

The easiest thing for me when I first started was actually writing the book.  The words flowed so easily, even I was impressed.

How long did it take you to finish your first manuscript and where did the idea come from?

The first manuscript I ever wrote took about 6 months to complete.  Then it just sat and I didn’t do anything with it.  When I decided to publish it, I needed to rewrite it because it was dated and that took about 3 months.

The idea for it came from a recurring dream that I had when I was in high school.  It was strange because I’d dream the beginning, end, and then middle of the dream over a week and it repeated itself for months, until I finally wrote it down.  That dream became my first manuscript and my first romance novel, Change of Heart.

Tell me about your first contract?

I’m self-published so I’m still waiting on my first contract.

Do you base any of your stories on real people or places or events?

Yes.  I use real places.  Untitled is set in Atlanta, GA for most of the book.  I’m familiar with Atlanta because I live there and was most comfortable using places that I was familiar with and people would recognize when they read the book.

What gets you in the mood to write?

There are three things that can spark my writing muse.  The first is reading a bad book, especially bad books that have made the NYT Bestseller List.  It’s irritating and gets me in the mood to write.  After reading a poorly written book, I can usually crank out 4-6 chapters a day.

Music also gets me in the mood to write.  Music is such a huge part of my day and I might hear a song lyric that completely relates to my character’s story that I’m instantly pulling out my pad and pen and writing.

For some weird reason, rain really gets me into a writing mood.  When there is a nice calming rain, I want to write.  When there is a violent thunderstorm, I get so scared so writing helps calm me and I usually end up writing something really good.

Where do you see yourself 5 years from now? 10 years?

Five years from now, I see myself writing full time, without the stress of my every day 9-5 job.  My plan is to be a top Amazon Bestselling author consistently and make the NYT Bestseller List.

10 years from now, hopefully I’ve fulfilled my dream of moving to New York City and making a life there and have my own romance novel love.

What do you enjoy most about being an author?

The idea that I can control what happens in my stories and that if I don’t want something bad to happen, it doesn’t have to.  In real life, no one has that type of control.  Being an author allows me an escape from real life. 

I also enjoy the interaction and support from other authors.  Although we’re all competing to make a Bestseller list, it doesn’t stop us from understanding that someone else is in the same boat and it’s important to help each other out.  The writing community is very special to me.

Okay, quick fun questions:

Favorite ice cream

Ben and Jerry’s New York Super Fudge Chunk

Favorite music

Blues rock (is that even a real genre?)

Favorite movie

It’s a tie between Pretty Woman and Top Gun

Favorite time to write

Night…definitely after the sun goes down.

If you could be stranded with a movie or television star who would you pick?

Ian Somerhalder or Bradley Cooper, ya know, whichever is free to get stranded with me J

If someone played you in a movie who would it be and why?

I would love if Lisa Nicole Carson portrayed me in a movie.  I think she is a great actress.  I loved her in Love Jones and Ally McBeal.  Plus, she is busty like me and we both have the same unruly curly hair.  I think she would be perfect.

Buy link: http://www.amazon.com/Untitled-ebook/dp/B004QTOI0O/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1346248159&sr=1-1&keywords=untitled+by+jackie+chanel

It’s title is Untitled but the book is superb
Wednesday, August 29th, 2012

Welcome Jackie Chanel today. 

Jackie will be awarding gift baskets to two randomly drawn commenters which will include:

– a copy of the Untitled soundtrack
– a “I like Big Books and I cannot Lie” totebag
– Untitled themed or guitar shaped keychains
– $20 Amazon gift card.

Ya gotta read this book. It’s a must have.


by Jackie Chanel


For some, music is an escape from the every day norm.

For Aiden, it’s his life’s blood.

Already a star in his own mind & with the help of an unlikely partner, Aiden’s escape from a life less ordinary begins with the blues and a guitar. Only he can determine where it ends.


Halfway through his set, the announcement that I’d been impatiently waiting for came over the PA system.

It’s that time…what we call a blues jam!  I know there’s someone out there who wants to jam with us! Come to the stage, plug in, grab some sticks and let’s jam!

I rushed the stage like a thirteen year old girl at a New Kids on the Block concert.  Paulie was right behind me.

I picked the amp closest to Joey Clausen and plugged in Dee-Dee.  I played a few cords to check that she was tuned properly.  She sounded perfect.

The bass player, a smooth looking older black man, looked me up and down and started to snicker.

“You sure you want to do this, kid?” he asked.

“Hell yeah,” I muttered, slightly offended by his snicker.

“This is a blues jam session,” he added as if I didn’t know.  “This ain’t no Guns N Roses concert.”

“I wouldn’t be up here if it was,” I replied shortly.

“White boy thinks he can play the blues, huh,” he gaffed.  “You must think you’re Stevie Ray or something.”

I shrugged my shoulders.  “You must think that.”

I took a few steps away from the dude.  Now I was nervous.  I know how I look to the all black band.  After all, I am just a white boy in a Hendrix t-shirt, cargo shorts, and Nikes with no socks holding a guitar.  There aren’t many of us who play the blues.  Looks can be deceiving, because I can play.

I don’t care that I look different from other Blues players.  Who says that all Blues players have to be black and from the South?  However, the bass 

When I looked at Sunny, she wasn’t sitting anymore.  She was actually kneeling with one hand over her heart and the other wrapped around her waist.  She was smiling and crying as I sang.

The energy in the room was electric and intense as the final notes reverberated out of the amplifier.  I took in Sunny’s reaction as she crawled closer to me until she was in between my legs and looking up at me.  She took my guitar out of my hands and sat it on the floor.

“That was beautiful,” she whispered.  “Thank you.”

I grinned at her, overcome with an unfamiliar feeling…a feeling I never had around Sunny.  I feeling that I’ve never felt…ever.  Before I could say anything, Sunny was sitting on my lap, staring into my eyes with such a warm and inviting look that I couldn’t stop myself from leaning in and kissing her.

She inhaled sharply at the touch of my lips against hers, and then kinda melted into the kiss.  For what seemed like an eternity I was lost in Sunny’s eyes and relaxed by the soft touch of her hand rubbing against my thigh while the other tangled itself in my hair.

I pulled her closer, allowing my hands to glide along her smooth back.  Her mouth…her lips…her tongue taste faintly like toothpaste and alcohol.  She smelled like a bed of roses.  The urge to continue to explore her mouth and her body was the only thing dominating my thoughts.


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Jackie Chanel is a contemporary romance author and self proclaimed badass.  Her writing career began in high school when she began writing short romance stories about her celebrity crushes.  Her very first novel was penned while she was a high school senior in Youngstown, Ohio.  She insists that no one will ever read it.

Jackie studied at Georgia State University and currently lives in Atlanta, Georgia.  When she’s not writing or daydreaming, she can often be found drooling over the latest Chanel shoes or reading on her Kindle with a cup of coffee in hand and a little Mayer or Hendrix in the background.

Her characters are a reflection of the people she has encountered along her writing journey and her books are often inspired by her favorite thing, music.

Social Media

Twitter Handle: @JackieChanel

Facebook: Author Jackie Chanel

Facebook Author Page:  http://www.facebook.com/jackiechanel