Friday, December 9, 2016

Too many ideas? (#amwriting #imagination #WIP)


It’s been quite a while since I had a major release. Mostly this is because my real world job has taken over almost all my time. However, another factor is the fact that lately I seem to have too many ideas.

I shouldn’t complain. Lots of writers spend hours staring at their screens, trying to produce a page or two. I don’t usually suffer from writer’s block. Give me a couple of hours and I’ll give you a couple of thousand words, quite reliably.

These days, though, if I can get those hours, I seem to be facing a new question: what book should I work on?

At the moment I have two major works in progress, The Werewolf and the Vampire (a sort of spiritual sequel to The Gazillionaireand the Virgin) and Damned If You Do, a tongue-in-cheek tale of an author’s Faustian bargain. I started the first book back in April, planning to release around Halloween. When it became clear in mid-summer that this wouldn’t be possible, I began working on Damned, which I figured would be shorter and maybe quicker. I couldn’t make Halloweentoo much business travel. Then Coming Together came out with a CFS in reaction to the U.S. election, so I put Damned aside to work on Divided We Fall. That turned out to be over 7K words, long for a short story, and took me three weeks (writing a few hours per week).

I was just getting ready to dive back into Damned, when I had an idea for a new novel. Stolen Gifts would be a sequel to my MM holiday paranormal novel NecessaryMadness—told from the former villain’s perspective, and ultimately turning that villain into the hero. I even wrote the first few pages, which I’ve posted here.

Then I realized Christmas was only a few weeks away. I’d really love to write a holiday short, and I’ve come up with what I think is a fabulous premise...but that means putting Stolen Gifts on hold, just when the juices are starting to flow!

I also have an inspiration for an F/F anthology I’d like to pitch to my lesbian publisher LadyLit. I know so many talented authors of lesfic that I know I could put together an amazing book. Another idea, another distraction, another book on the WIP stack. (So far I’ve held off on this project, but knowing myself, I suspect I’m eventually going to give in to the temptation.)

I’ve never had this problem before. I’ve always been very linear about my writing, working on one project at a time. Now I have so irons in the fire that it’s bewildering.

I’ll finish them all. Eventually. I apologize to those of you who enjoy my work. I wish I could put out a new book every few months. Time is the main obstacle. Certainly, I have no dearth of inspiration!




Thursday, December 8, 2016

Sneak Peek: Kiss Me at Last by Holly Cortelyou (#smalltown #holiday #giveaway)


What's better than wine, chocolate and a little renovation magic? A sweet and sexy matchup between a handsome, hammer-swinging contractor, Sean McMallory, and a flirty and stubborn champagne bar owner, Melinda York, who's in a remodel pickle! Kiss Me at Last brings you back to the charming mountain hamlet of Wescott Springs, Colorado in a heartwarming contemporary, small town romance that's sweet with a little kiss of heat!

One tempting kiss will rock his world…

Melinda York has every last penny tied up in her business remodel so the last thing she needs is a complication—like surly Sean McMallory. But when "McGrumpy" blows through her front door with a hammer and toolbox, she knows she’s doomed…her replacement contractor is none other than the jerk who humiliated her at the town council meeting. With Melinda buried in sawdust and the exasperating, but ever-so-sexy, Sean constantly underfoot, how is she supposed to maintain her professional poise when she can’t stop daydreaming about his broad shoulders and his unexpectedly kind heart?

Sean McMallory likes his life simple and straightforward, and his plate is full with a booming construction business and family responsibilities. When a cousin begs a favor, he’s plunged neck-deep into the whirlwind that is elegant, jet-setter Melinda York and her wine bar renovation. There’s just no trusting the flirty Melinda even if he can’t forget her kissable lips and surprisingly, vulnerable eyes. So he’ll stick with his beer and country roads, and she can keep her bottles of bubbly and fancy truffles!

Can one kiss build a bridge to love and heal their wounded hearts?

Excerpt

He stared at her with those penetrating emerald eyes and Melinda's voice petered to a stop. There was a small furrow between his eyebrows as if he was curiously studying a new breed of beetle or a peculiar specimen of noxious weed.

Melinda gurgled a nervous laugh. So much for unnerving him with a bout of pushy flirtation. She went for broke. "One of these days, we're going to convince you to sample our wares."

Sean's gaze whisked from her face to her chest and then down to her hips before returning to her eyes. Melinda flushed. That backfired.

"I'm a beer kind of guy. I'm here for the truffles." His voice was dismissive, but his eyes widened as if he noticed the disparity in his choice of words.

Melinda blinked and refused to smile, but she had gotten under his skin…at least a smidge. "You might be surprised. Many of our goods are most approachable to any type of customer. You only have to be open-minded to new things."

A flicker of a grin played at the corner of his lips, and a glimmer of triumph streaked through her veins. Ha! She'd scored a hit. But just as quickly, his expression darkened. He glanced at the ornate clock hanging on the wall.

"I'm running late," Sean said. "I'll stick with the usual."

"Of course," Melinda replied and was careful to keep her fingers from touching his as she took the debit card from his hand.

Without another word, Sean signed the receipt, picked up the white and gold bag with its expensive cache of rich, French chocolates, and exited out the door.

She glared at his retreating back and wished for the hundredth time that he would move to a new town. Melinda scrunched her nose in irritation.

About the Author

Holly Cortelyou is a romance author who pens sweet and spicy small town, contemporary romances as well as supernatural and paranormal romances. On any given day, you’ll likely find her posting dog and cat pics on Facebook (HollyCortelyouAuthor) or goofing off on Twitter (@HollyCortelyou) and Pinterest! And of course, you can always visit her on the web at www.HollyCortelyou.com. Holly has hazel eyes, a goofy sense of humor and…all the rest is subject to change without notice.





Holly will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.


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Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Sneak Peek: Nicolas by Dianne Hartsock (#mm #christmas #giveaway)


[Check out this sexy M/M holiday erotic romance! And don't forget to enter Dianne's giveaway. You could win a $25 bookstore GC! ~ Lisabet]

Blurb

Betrayed by a lover, Jamie rents an isolated cabin on Lake Huron, wanting only to be left alone. Instead, he is pulled from his solitary existence as an artist and tumbles headlong into the legend of Saint Nicolas.

As a young man, Nicolas accidentally killed a man intent on murdering three children, only to have the man’s malicious spirit rise up against him. Fleeing through the centuries from the Krampus, the evil troll-like creature that dogs his steps, Nico finds refuge with the young artist who takes him into his home and bed. But Jamie has questions. Who is Nicolas, and why does the Krampus want to destroy him?

When the Krampus begins to torment and torture anyone Nico comes in contact with to punish him, Jamie’s life is put in danger. And Jamie isn’t sure whether he can help Nico defeat his nemesis or if he’s merely a pawn in the Krampus’s game.

Exclusive Excerpt

Steam rose up around him and he closed his eyes, wanting Jamie in the shower with him, his virile young body writhing against him as Nico’s fingers explored his skin. Those full lips would be soft, pliant as Nico took the kisses he craved.

He jumped when the bathroom door swung open.

Are you—?” Jamie’s eyes grew enormous as they gazed at each other, and Nico’s heart leaped at the passion that ignited his face. Without a thought he twisted the water off and stepped out of the shower. It thrilled him to the core when Jamie didn’t step back, held his ground, though Nico walked right up to him. Jamie’s gaze raked him head to toe.

May I have a towel?” he asked softly, loving the confusion that swept Jamie’s face. A soft blush followed, and Jamie turned to a cabinet and handed him one. Jamie watched him, looking uncertain, and Nico paused in drying his dark hair. “Undress, tesoro mio.”

Jamie caught his breath and Nico leaned closer to whisper in his ear, “We can’t make love through your clothing, my treasure.”

Inexplicable panic flashed in Jamie’s eyes and his gaze shot to the overhead light. He looked ready to run, but then his lovely mouth firmed, and he nodded. Nico didn’t understand the sadness behind his shy smile, when Jamie lifted his sweater over his head. His pants followed in one swift motion.

The young man was exquisite! Lean and graceful. Jamie’s pale nipples jutted in a hint of breasts, hips curving to a rounded ass. Jamie’s chest heaved as he fought some strong emotion, arms crossing as if to protect himself. What was wrong? Had Nico frightened him?

Jamie?” No answer; Nico was desperate to understand him. He felt sure Jamie would forgive the intrusion and concentrated, touching Jamie’s downcast face. Images from Jamie's past flashed in his mind as he read his thoughts: years of torment in the boys’ locker room after gym class, for his soft body. The ridicule of lovers for his gentle heart and effeminate ways. Good Christ! How had they not seen what a jewel he was, missed the passion underlying his shy advances? He pulled Jamie’s resisting body into his arms.

Angelo mio,” he murmured, nuzzling his neck. His hands trailed down Jamie’s back and undid the ribbon tying his long braid. Silken tendrils curled around Nico’s fingers and he bunched them in his hands, tilting Jamie’s face upwards. Fear and arousal warred in the blue eyes. He planted kisses along his jawline, nibbled at his perfect lips. “You’re more lovely than I could have imagined, my angel,” he said and pressed their lips together.

He tugged the red hair. “Open for me, Jamie,” he said and swallowed the young man’s gasp as Nico slid his tongue between his parting lips. Sugar and warmth jolted his heart, sending his pulse hammering. He moved his head and deepened the kiss, needing more of Jamie’s sweet taste.

About the Author


Dianne grew up in one of the older homes in the middle of Los Angeles, a place of hardwood floors and secret closets and back staircases. A house where ghosts lurk in the basement and the faces in the paintings watch you walk up the front stairs. Rooms where you keep the closet doors closed tight at night. It’s where her love of the mysterious and wonderful came from. Dianne is the author of paranormal/suspense, fantasy adventure, m/m romance, and anything else that comes to mind.

She now lives in the beautiful Willamette Valley of Oregon with her incredibly patient husband, who puts up with the endless hours she spends hunched over the keyboard letting her characters play. Dianne says Oregon’s raindrops are the perfect setting in which to write. There’s something about being cooped up in the house with a fire crackling on the hearth and a cup of hot coffee in her hands, which kindles her imagination.

Currently, Dianne works as a floral designer in a locally-owned gift shop. Which is the perfect job for her. When not writing, she can express herself through the rich colors and textures of flowers and foliage.


Buy Links for Nicolas:

Dreamspinner: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/nicolas-by-dianne-hartsock-3760-b


Use the Rafflecopter below to enter Dianne's giveaway!

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Tuesday, December 6, 2016

Review Tuesday: Ladies Only anthololgy (#lesfic #ff #eroticromance)

Ladies Only cover


Ladies Only Anthology

By Cari Z, Helena Maeve, R.A. Padmos, HK Carlton, and Lucy Felthouse
Pride Publishing, 2016

Ladies Only is a new lesbian erotic romance anthology from Pride Publishing. I requested a review copy when I saw a post about it on HK Carlton’s blog. The authors featured in the book include some of my favorites (including HK), plus I was delighted to see Pride putting out some F/F fiction.

The book includes five tales in the 10-15K word range. (Overall the PDF version is 205 pages.) Each one focuses on the relationship between two women.

The heroine in “Worth a Shot” by Cari Z has a lucrative business detailing racing cars. Samara dreads the idea of getting a housemate to occupy the other side of her duplex, but when Katie shows up, the young woman seems a perfect fit. Katie and Sam have lots in common—including a strong mutual attraction. As they grow closer, Sam starts imagining they might build a life together. However, Katie’s past is full of secrets. An innocent error on Sam’s part exposes them both to danger and tears them apart, apparently forever.

In “The Woman Next Door” by Helena Maeve, an artist confronts the neighbor whose noisy renovation is preventing her from working, only to discover that the occupant of the condo next door is an old enemy. Eight years before, Yvonne Barros destroyed Ziva’s business and brought Ziva close to bankruptcy. There’s no way Ziva wants her as a neighbor. However, Yvonne has suffered her own reversals. The elegant executive seems to have changed, and to want Ziva as a friendand more. Ziva’s equally drawn to her nemesis. But can the woman who ruined her once be trusted not to do it again?

R.A. Padmos’ “The Tiny Blue House” is a luscious lesbian fable about love, loss, and wonderful food. Young chef Molly Knowles roams the country in her mobile home, working in kitchens, picking up new recipes, and enjoying the women she meets along the way. When she experiences the cooking of Chiara Loss, it’s love at first taste.

HK Carlton’s “In the Flesh” offers a gritty tale of exotic dancers, mob bosses and undercover cops. ATF officer Kate infiltrates a skin club run by the Traviano crime family, posing as a dancer. She falls hard for Carly, a stunningly talented stripper who’s linked to the mob boss’s son. In a world where the slightest mistake can be deadly, Kate struggles to do her job without giving up her incendiary relationship with Carly.

In “Window Dressing”, Lucy Felthouse creates a feisty young woman who is building a career as a shop-fitter. Jessie is sent from Leeds to London to create an elaborate display for an Oxford Street shop. It’s the most important job she’s ever undertakenand it’s being supervised by a woman with a legendary reputation for being critical and nasty. At first, Edith lives up to the stories about her dragon-like personality, but as the long night wears on, Jessie gets to see another side of the dragon lady. She finds that Edith is a woman with strong desiresand those desires include Jessie herself.

Overall, Ladies Only is a very enjoyable book. The quality of the writing is uniformly high, while the styles of the authors are sufficiently diverse that I didn’t get bored. I particularly liked the slightly fairy-tale quality of R.A. Padmos’ tale. She creates a happily-ever-after world where you find yourself exactly where you’re supposed to be: in seaside town where a long-time lesbian couple has the ideal spot for parking your trailer, and where your soul mate works in the kitchen.

HK Carlton’s story features wonderfully intense sex scenes. “In the Flesh” captures the sensual quality of dancing and reflects my personal experience that dancing is often the first step toward making love. Actually, I found the plot in this story rather implausible. However, the chemistry between Kate and Carly more or less distracted me from that weakness.

The characters in the other three stories pulled me in, especially Ziva. I loved the portrayal of her artistic talent, the fact that she never knows what she’ll paint until she’s standing in front of the canvas. To be honest, however, I found the erotic aspects of these three stories a bit perfunctory and unconvincing. Compared to other lesbian erotic romance I’ve read, these stories seemed a bit thin.

One reason for this, I think, is the rather awkward length of the stories in the collection. They’re neither true short stories nor novellas, but something in between. Too long to have the stunning immediacy of a vignette, they’re still too brief to really explore the development of an emotional and sexual relationship. I’ve encountered the frustrations of this length myself. More than once reviewers have commented on what seemed like abrupt endings in my 15K stories. The fact is, I more or less ran out of word count.

In any case, I’m delighted to see Pride Publishing releasing more lesbian fiction. Ladies Only is a solid collection which I think may be particularly appropriate for readers of other romance subgenres who are curious about F/F relationships. There’s nothing scary or foreign herejust pairs of women who fall in love, like anyone else.


Monday, December 5, 2016

Living Without Winter (#mm #winter #excerpt)


Winter image




For the past thirteen years, I've resided in a tropical country where we have three seasons: the hot season, the rainy (and hot) season, and the laughably-titled "cool" season, when the temperature occasionally dips into the seventies. Thus, I've been deprived of winter for the better half of a decade. Before the move, though, I lived in rural New England for more than twenty years, so I have plenty of experience with all the joys the season brings: blizzards, ice-storms, and that nightmarish anomaly that seems to be a Massachusetts specialty, freezing rain. I remember winter only too well: power outages, snow tires, storm windows, shoveling, hauling firewood, pulling all the winter clothes out of the attic, making sure your anti-freeze is full... After spending two years in balmy California then returning to my native clime, I came to realize that winter in a place with serious weather is an incredible amount of work.

I usually go back to the U.S. once a year to visit family, but in the spring (during the excruciatingly hot season in my adopted country). Winter is a vivid but increasingly distant memory. I do find myself romanticizing a bit. I imagine the crisp, hushed beauty of a frigid night, when the stars glitter like faraway diamonds in the velvet sky. I remember the excitement of waking up to find the trees cloaked in a soft white blanket, the river frozen, the footprints of a rabbit the only sign of life in the snow-smothered world. I find myself missing the camaraderie of working with my husband to clear a path up our long driveway to the street - conveniently forgetting aching backs and frost-bitten extremities. Memories of childhood delights return to entice me: racing down a snowy hill on my Radio Flyer, digging snow houses out of the piles left by the plows, sitting on the wooden bench next to the flooded and frozen tennis court to don my cherished white figure skates. The scent of wood smoke hanging in the air - Campbell's tomato soup topped with Cheerios and grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch after stripping off my soaked snowsuit - real cocoa topped with marshmallows to warm my numb fingers... I could go on and on. Yes, I do miss winter, no matter how hard I try to focus on the dangers and inconveniences it brought.

One of the side benefits of being a writer, though, is that we can use fiction to recreate what we've lost. I definitely do that when it comes to the erotic aspects of my work. The faraway sexual adventures of my youth provide seeds for many of my stories. I write partially to recapture the thrill of those heady days when I was exploring the joys and perils of passion.

In a similar vein, I can relive the experiences of true winter by incorporating the season into my fictional worlds. My M/M novel Necessary Madness is a winter's tale. In one of my favorite scenes, the protagonists, driving home in a storm, stop at a closed, snow-clogged highway rest area because—well, they can't wait any longer:


They’d left in a rush, barely polite. In their eagerness to get back to Rob’s apartment, they’d refused offers of coffee and breakfast. The one-hour trip from Petersham to Worcester seemed endless, especially since the state of the roads demanded extra caution.

Rob’s erection throbbed, painful and demanding. He guessed that Kyle was hard too, though with the bulky jacket and scarf, he couldn’t tell for sure. Kyle felt Rob’s gaze. He raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question and his full lips curled into a smile, but he didn’t speak.

Rob couldn’t stand it any longer. They were coming down the hill into Gardner. There was a rest area near the city line. Rob yanked the steering wheel and the car swerved into the exit lane, cutting off a truck easing up from behind.

What the hell are you doing?” Kyle yelled. The rest area hadn’t been ploughed yet. The Saturn skidded for several yards before it came to rest in a parking spot. Rob scrambled out, then came around to open the passenger-side door. “Come on. I just can’t wait anymore.”

The lot was deserted. Wind rustled the tall pines sheltering the building that housed the toilets, knocking clumps of snow onto the windshield. Rob grabbed Kyle’s hand and practically dragged him out of the car.

Rob, it’s probably locked.”

I’ll break down the door if I have to.” Rob was desperate. But the men’s room was open, although the electricity appeared to be off. Wan light entered via a dirty window near the ceiling. He pulled Kyle through the door and pressed him against the tiled wall, devouring his mouth. Kyle responded with equal passion. Rob ripped open the snaps on Kyle’s jacket and grabbed at his crotch.

I’m sorry. I’ve got to have you. Now. I can’t concentrate. I can’t drive. All I can think about is you.” He unfastened Kyle’s belt and unzipped his fly, then yanked the jeans down around Kyle’s knees. The young man’s cock sprang out, huge and ready. Rob cradled it in his hands, then squeezed hard. Kyle groaned.

Rob, what if somebody comes?”

Rob chuckled as he wrestled with his own cold fly. “Somebody is going to come—you and me!”

No, really. If a state trooper came in to take a leak and found us here—you might lose your job.”

I don’t care. I can’t help it. Honestly, if I don’t fuck you right now…” Rob didn’t bother to finish the sentence. He turned Kyle to face the wall, bracing the other man’s hands against the cold ceramic surface. He wrapped his arms around Kyle’s chest and rubbed his cock back and forth in the boy’s ass crack. Kyle whimpered and ground his butt against Rob’s hardness, until Rob was sure he’d explode.

Do it,” Kyle gasped, as Rob reached down and gripped his partner’s cock around the base. Kyle bent forward, presenting his rump. Rob spit on his fingers, then slipped one into the crevice between those pale globes. He probed the tight knot of muscle guarding Kyle’s entrance.

I’ve got a rubber but no lube,” he whispered, wriggling his digit into Kyle’s rear hole. Kyle writhed in response. “Nothing but spit.”

I can take it.” Kyle caught his breath as Rob inserted a second finger. “I can take anything you give me."


When I wrote this, I was there. All the sensory details were clear. I could feel the sickening swerve of the out-of-control vehicle, hear the pines groaning in the wind and the muted splat of snow blown onto the windshield. I shivered in the bitter chill of the unheated building, the scent of disinfectant rising in my nostrils, goosebumps prickling my bared flesh. Pasting the segment in here, I am surprised to note that almost none of the wintery sensations actually made it into the scene. The focus (appropriately, I hope) is on the sexual tension building between the characters. Winter is in there in the background, though, a contrast to the heat of my characters' desperate coupling.

Unlike some people who move to the tropics, I didn't leave my former home to escape from winter. Life is easier now, I'll admit, but I sometimes hunger for a taste of the cold, dark, snowy season and the complex emotions it evokes - fear, frustration, comfort, awe, hope. When the temperature drops below zero, you truly appreciate warmth. When the sun sets at four in the afternoon, you kindle a fire on the hearth to remind yourself light will return. Living without winter, I write to keep those feelings alive.

Sunday, December 4, 2016

Sunday Snog 256: Truce of Trust (#polyamory #menage #bdsm)



Happy Sunday to everyone! Per tradition, I have another kiss excerpt for you today. This one’s a luscious bit from my polyamory story Truce of Trust.

When you’re done reading my snog (and you’ve recovered your senses!), head to Victoria’s Sunday Snog Central for more sexy lip locks.

Blurb

How can a woman choose between her husband and her Master?

Some women might think Leah's existence heavenly. She shares her home with two sexy men who both adore her. Ten years married to lusty, artistic Daniel, she still enjoys the discipline and release offered by Greg. But her lovers' jealousy and possessiveness have made Leah's life a hell. Unable to bear the continuous conflict, she flees to an idyllic seaside resort to ponder her future. Gradually she realises that she cannot live without either of her lovers. If the two men can't settle their differences, though, then how can she bear to live with them?

~~~~


I’m home!” Leah’s voice rang through the silent house. No one answered, but she noticed the screened doors to the deck were open to the balmy September breeze. Someone must be around.

She parked her overnight bag near the door, dumped her briefcase onto a chair and headed down to the basement. Daniel was probably in his studio; he wouldn’t have heard her.

Two doors faced her at the foot of the stairs. Leah cracked open the one on the right, peeking inside. She didn’t want to distract her husband if he was in the throes of a creative fervour.

Daniel hunched over the synthesiser, his eyes closed, while his nimble fingers danced across the keys. Headphones nestled in his lush, black curls, sealing him away in his magic world of sound. He had the face of a Renaissance poet, elegant features harmoniously arranged—finely drawn cheekbones, strong nose, arched brows, sensual lips. His buccaneer moustache offset the androgyny of his countenance, giving him the air of a rake, and indeed, he could dream up some extravagant mischief when he chose. Now, though, he was focused inward, listening to the melodies in his head.

Love clutched at Leah’s chest, as it always did when she beheld his beauty. She ached to touch him. She imagined herself standing behind him, resting her palms lightly on his shoulders, feeling the shift and surge of his muscles as he played. She wanted to brush that stray curl away from his pale forehead, to run her tongue down the side of his neck and along his collarbone where it disappeared under his Led Zeppelin T-shirt. She would reach around to his chest, circling his sensitive nipples as her own tightened and throbbed, challenging him to ignore her caresses if he could.

Instead, she simply watched him, marvelling at his grace. She was about to shut the door and leave him in peace when his green eyes snapped open.

Leah!” He tossed the earphones onto a pile of sheet music beside him. “Why didn’t you say something?” In an instant, he was in front of her, cradling her against his chest. “God, I missed you.”

He swept her into a kiss whose intensity confirmed his words. His mouth locked onto hers, his lips soft but his tongue brazen. He tasted of coffee and tobacco, his two vices while he was working. His passion melted her, as it always did. Her legs turned to rubber. Hot juices pooled between her thighs.

His swelling erection prodded her, through his jeans and the fabric of her dressy trousers. He reached between their bodies and unzipped her. His long fingers slipped into the opening, wriggled under the elastic of her panties and came to rest nestled in her bush. He moved his fingertips in gentle circles across her pubis in an intimate, teasing massage.

Did you miss me?” he murmured, close to her ear. Leah tilted her pelvis, working without success to bring her hungry clit into contact with his roving fingers.

Of course,” she replied, cupping his bulk in her palm to seize the offensive. It was true. In the middle of the afternoon’s editorial meeting, she’d had a sudden, highly distracting vision of Daniel lying naked on their bed, stroking his cock. Mr. Jamison, seeing her flush, had inquired sharply whether she was feverish. She had to excuse herself to go splash some cold water on her face.

Did Daniel actually jack himself off while she was at work? She ran her thumb over his denim-covered hardness and was rewarded by his shudder of pleasure. His potency still astonished her, after ten years of marriage. He was the only multi-orgasmic man she’d ever known. He might well have relieved his tension during the afternoon and still be stone-hard as he was now. “But you didn’t wait for me, did you?”

His finger slipped between her swollen lips and brushed the tip of her clit. She gasped, circles of pleasure rippling out through her body from that hidden centre. He was driving her crazy.

Do you mind?” He bent to her lips again, this kiss more yielding, almost a supplication.

Leah lost herself in his arms. She parted her thighs, silently begging him for satisfaction. Inside the tight confines of her panties and trousers, Daniel’s skilful fingers worked their magic. Sensation built upon sensation, every touch a new thrill as he stroked, kneaded, and pinched her flesh. A climax coiled in her pelvis, tighter with every moment, the delicious ache making her jerk and writhe on the fingers that impaled her.

I never get off without thinking of you,” he whispered in her ear. At the same time, he plunged his hand deep into her cleft. His words and his fingers together sent her spinning off the edge. The knot of tension suddenly unravelled, sending tendrils of pleasure whipping through her. She jerked and shuddered as delight exploded in her sex then expanded to include her whole being.

Leah would have slumped to her knees if Daniel’s hand had not still been embedded in her crotch. He wiggled his fingers, waking echoes of her cataclysm. When he was sure she could stand, he pulled his hand out of her damp garments. Grinning, he licked each of his fingers with a flourish.

You’re outrageous.” Leah sank into a convenient chair, still a bit shaky.

You inspire me.” Daniel unzipped his jeans. “See what I mean?”

Saturday, December 3, 2016

Always the Hard Way (#stubbornness #Christmas #pnr @AuthorLolaWhite )

Liah cover


By Lola White (Guest Blogger)

I think I’m just destined to do everything the hard way. Or maybe the hard way is destined to do me…not sure about the order of that.

My whole life has been spent doing things on my own, my own way, because the easier, shorter route either wasn’t available, didn’t work or wasn’t even on my radar. And I’m more stubborn than people realize, so sometimes I get stuck on a particular way of doing something. Maybe I just made some bad choices in my life, though most things seemed to work out well enough. If they were bad choices, at least I learned a lot from them.

That’s how some people are though. I think I can only learn through true adversity. I can’t be told, I can’t be warned. I’ve got to get in there, get messy, make mistakes, break my heart and walk the edge of insanity before I learn whatever was needed to take me further.

I accepted this about myself long ago, but, until this month, when I found myself in the position of releasing two very different stories in three days, I hadn’t realized how much of this particular hard-headedness of mine had made it into my characters. It’s amazing what you see when you have to explain a creation, then explain another in short order.

There’s always a piece of an author in his or her characters. Just like there are pieces of their parents, best friends, spouses, children, etc. We are constantly cataloging human traits to use, even if we don’t know it. When we put ourselves into our characters, it’s usually because that’s how we would act, or what we would say, or the conclusion we would jump to…or the total opposite of all that. (Authors are contrary beasts).

I’ve put a lot of myself into my characters—especially the females. I feel that I’m strong, so they are too. I’m shy and non-confrontational, but I won’t back down from my beliefs. I can be quiet, obnoxious, argumentative, reserved… Like most people, I’m a walking contradiction, because nothing in life is cut-and-dried.

And how does this apply to my two newest stories?

Hardheadedness abounds, the easier path might be favored but it sure as hell isn’t taken, and they’re all walking the edge of insanity.

The Garguiem series is about a group of people descended from angels who were cast out of heaven for not picking a side in the war. In the middle ages, they were recruited to work for the Catholic Church. They are gargoyles, real people the statues represent, and they fight evil and corruption—except Liah, the star of the new novel, comes very close to corruption with her own actions, as well as the investigation Father Tony ropes her into.

Liah is an empath, desperately trying to shut off her own emotions because she can hardly deal with everything she feels. She’s also determined to save the world, or, in this case, women who might be abused at the hands of corrupt priests. Except, there is no evidence that suggests any women are being misused.

But Father Tony is stubborn too, and he keeps dragging Liah back into the case. He’s a priest with secrets, an abomination Liah’s people can’t tolerate…but she never does anything the easy way. The faster route, sure, and that’s why she’s always in trouble, but, for Liah, her hard-headedness makes her a target and when hers is combined with Tony’s, she’s put into a situation her enemies can exploit.

And it’s a romance. Who doesn’t love a tragic, complicated romance?

The Tithe Collector is about a group of people, but with a focus on Zahra, the tithe collector who makes the very idea of a Special Collections team possible. Magic comes at a price, and everyone pays eventually—either in death or taxes. Well, the tax man cometh, in the form of a petite genie who is so addicted to human magic that her punishment will definitely make her insane.

Though she’s not as assertive as Liah, Zahra’s stubborn, too. She’s been forced onto the team, along with an adulterous vampire, a murderous fairy and a returned human Army vet suffering from PTSD. The king of gods has some plan up his sleeve, and Zahra’s got to walk his path in order to save her sister from the Djinn King. But she’s still trying to make things work with the man who got her addicted to magic in the first place, as well as trying to fit in with her new team, keep her secrets and get clean. The other three have their own issues.


In Conjurers & Candy Canes, the Christmas short I just released in the Tithe Collector series, Santa’s been kidnapped. The team is called in to investigate, and each of the four characters we follow show their tenacity in some way. The story is too short to go into how each walks the edge, but Santeria & Sorcery is free on Kindle Unlimited for any who are interested in checking out the series from the start.

Liah and Zahra surprised me with how similar they are, for all that they’re different. Different species, stories and reactions to life. Different personalities. Liah is a warrior and Zahra is a neglected pawn. They’re both addicts clawing their way toward sobriety, they’re both stubborn and determined, generous and willing to do what it takes to make a difference. Wholly imperfect, infuriating at times, but inspiring some protectiveness in others—when they’re not forgotten, which is another trait these two share. Both have been hurt deeply, but still hold hope in their heart. They are strong in their unique ways. They are facets of me.

And, just like me, these characters do everything the hard way. They can’t love easy, they can hardly get themselves together to function normally, and they can’t learn from other people’s mistakes. No, they’re messy and complicated, dangerous and destructive…but everything they do, they do with their whole hearts. Though it might be misplaced, they’re filled with faith, which they use to either walk the path before them or make their own way, because they’re both fighters. In fact, all the Garguiem and all the Special Collections team members are fighters in their own ways.

Two vibrant characters, two complex stories. So different, but so similar, and that’s somehow wonderful. Like life, a story wouldn’t be any fun if it was too easy.

The Garguiem: Liah is available on Kindle Unlimited https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N41GVNH/

Conjurers & Candy Canes is available at


About the Author

Delve into the emotions, dive into the erotic.

An extensive traveler who loves to incorporate various legends from around the world into her tales, author Lola White likes to twist reality at its edges in her stories. She likes delving into the emotions of her characters, finding their strengths and weaknesses, and seeing how they get themselves out of whatever trouble has found them—if they can.

Website/blog: http://lola-white.com/

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/lola.white.1690

Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/Lola-White/e/B00GYVM6JW

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7953067.Lola_White 

Twitter: @authorlolawhite