Sasha White

I took this photo of a sunset 2 days before I left on my vacation. It’s a beautiful winter sunset. So crisp and clear…but I’m laying on a beach in Haiti right now. I don’t want you to think I’ve forgotten about my readers! Wave hi in the comments and be entered to win a copy of ALLURING TALES, Hot Holiday Nights. I have three copies to give away, so your chances of winning are great!

I’ll do the draw when I get home and post the winners names on December 24th.

ALLURING TALES 2: HOT HOLIDAY NIGHTS

The holidays are heating up—with seven wickedly sensual stories guaranteed to spice up those chilly winter nights!

“Wish Upon A Star” by Sasha White — A professional dominatrix wishes upon a star, and her fantasy appears—an insatiable alpha male in biker boots who’s literally out of this world…

A psychology student goes online hoping to live out her steamiest fantasy—and ends up on a hot mystery date with a wickedly imaginative stud who brings out her inner pole-dancer. . .

A determined lady comes home, burning for her girlhood crush—a sexy lawman who totes a big gun. . .

A creative ad man’s passion is aroused when he sees his buttoned-up coworker in a revealing new light—dressed in sizzling red satin on a giant billboard. . .

A tall, dark, handsome warlock finds himself obsessed with his “familiar”—a sleek and sexy cat-woman who turns out to be the purr-fect lover. . .

She was always hot for big brother’s best friend—and now her erotic dream is here in the taut and tempting flesh. . .

A pair of fugitive lovers finds themselves warm and toasty in a sultry Caribbean paradise—and ready for some red-hot fun in the sun. . .

“Sasha White is one of my favorite authors of BDSM romances. She knows just how far to go with the BDSM scenes to inspire new fantasies for her readers, and she always does a splendid job of building a believable romantic connection between the Dom or Dominatrix and their submissive.” ~ Jennifer at Wild on Books

Top Pick at NightOwl Romance!
“Alluring Tales 2: Hot Holiday Nights is a compilation of wicked fantasy tales written by seven brilliant authors. Each little story is in and of its own an exciting and enchanting journey into the life of two people that have their own fantasy to work out, each colliding at just the right moment, or just the right way for the sparks to fly.” ~ Night Owl Romance

READ AN EXCERPT of WISH UPON A STAR

Other authors and stories in this anthology

Peaches & Cream – Cathryn Fox
Indecent Exposure – Delilah Devlin
Forbidden Pleasures – Lisa Renee Jones
Billboard Babe – Myla Jackson
That Old Black Magic – Sylvia Day
Silver Waters – Vivi Anna

Seven steamy tales that are sure to heat up the holidays from the authors of the immensely successful Alluring Tales: Awaken the Fantasy. Each of these authors uniquely brings something special to her story–perhaps a bit of paranormal, or humor, or fantasy. And together they have created one of Avon Red’s most popular anthologies.

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I’ve been a huge fan of Carrie Vaughn’s Kitty Norville series since the first book, Kitty and The Midnight Hour. After I read that first one and I looked her up on the internet I glommed as many of the short stories with that character I could track down, and nothing made me happier than when I learned there were plenty more Kitty Books to come.

Kitty’s House Of Horrors, the 7th in the series, releases in January 2010, and I know what I’m using my Xmas gift cards on. If you haven;t read these books yet, you should! :)

Chapter 1

I knew if I stayed in this business long enough, I’d get an offer like this sooner or later. It just didn’t quite take the form I’d been expecting.

The group of us sat in a conference room at KNOB, the radio station where I based my syndicated talk show. Someone had tried to spruce up the place, mostly by cleaning old coffee cups and takeout wrappers off the table. Not much could be done with the worn gray carpeting, off-white walls filled with bulletin boards, thumbtack holes where people hadn’t bothered with the bulletin boards, and both of those covered with photocopied concert notices and posters for CD releases. The tables were fake wood-grain-colored plastic, refugees from the 1970s. We’d replaced the chalkboard with a dry erase board only a couple of years ago. That was KNOB, on the cutting edge.

I loved the room, but it didn’t exactly scream high-powered style. Which made it all the funnier to see a couple of Hollywood guys sitting at the table in their Armani suits and metrosexual savoir faire. They seemed to be young hotshots on the way up–interchangable. I had to remember that Joey Provost was the one with slicked-back light brown hair and the weak chin, and Ron Valenti was the one with dark brown hair who hadn’t smiled yet. They worked for a production company called SuperByte Entertainment, which specialized in reality television. I’d looked up some of their shows, such sparkling gems as Jailbird Moms and Stripper Idol.

They were here to invite me onto their next show, the concept of which they were eager to explain.

“The public is fascinated with the supernatural. The popularity of your show is clearly evidence of that. Over the last couple of years, as more information has come out, as more people who are part of this world come forward, that fascination is only going to increase. But we’re not just trying to tap into a market here–we hope to provide a platform to educate people. To erase some of the myths. Just like you do with your show,” Provost said. Provost was the talker. Valenti held the briefcase and looked serious.

“We’ve already secured the participation of Jerome Macy, the pro wrestler, and we’re in talks with a dozen other celebrities. Name celebrities. This is our biggest production yet, and we’d love for you to be a part of it.”

I’d met Jerome Macy, interviewed him on my show, even. He was a boxer who’d been kicked out of boxing when his lycanthropy was exposed and then turned to a career in pro wrestling, where being a werewolf was an asset. He was the country’s second celebrity werewolf.

I was the first.

While working as a late-night DJ here at KNOB, I started my call-in talk-radio show dispensing advice about all things supernatural, and came out as a werewolf live on the air about three years ago. Sometimes it seemed like yesterday. Sometimes it seemed like a million years had passed. A lot had happened in that time.

Arms crossed, I leaned against a wall, away from the table where the two producers sat. I studied them with a narrowed gaze and a smirk on my lips. In wolf body language, I was an alpha sizing them up. Deciding whether to beat them up because they were rivals–or eat them because they were prey. They probably had been talking to Jerome Macy, because they seemed to recognize the signals, even if they didn’t quite know what they meant. They both looked nervous and couldn’t meet my gaze, even though they tried.

This was all posturing.

“That’s great. Really,” I said. “But what is this show going to be about?”

“Well,” Provost said, leaning forward, then leaning back again when he caught sight of my stare. “We have access to a vacation lodge in Montana. Out in the middle of nowhere, a really beautiful spot, nice view of the mountains. We’ll have about a dozen, give or take, well-known spokespeople for the supernatural, and this will be a chance for them–you–to talk, interact. We’ll have interviews, roundtable discussions. It’ll be like a retreat.”

My interpretation: we’re going to put you all in a house and watch you go at it like cats and dogs. Or werewolves and vampires. Whatever.

“So. . .you’re not using the same model that you’ve used on some of your other shows. Like, oh, say, Cheerleader Sorority House.”

He had the grace to look a tiny bit chagrined. “Oh, no. This is nothing like that.”

I went on. “No voting people off? No teams and stupid games? And definitely no shape-shifting on camera. Right?”

“Oh, no, the idea behind this is education. Illumination.”

Ozzie, the station manager and my boss, was also at the meeting, sitting across from the two producers and acting way too obsequious. He leaned forward, eager, smiling back and forth between them and me. So, he thought this was a good idea. Matt, my sound guy, sat in the back corner and pantomimed eating popcorn, wearing a wicked grin.

I had a feeling I was being fed a line, that they were telling me what would most likely get me to agree to their show. And that they’d had a totally different story for everyone else they’d talked to.

I hadn’t built my reputation on being coy and polite, so I laid it out for Mr. Provost. “Your shows aren’t exactly known for. . .how should I put this. . .having any redeeming qualities whatsoever.”

He must have dealt with this criticism all the time, because he had the response all lined up. “Our shows reveal a side of life that most people have no access to.”

“Trainwrecks, you mean.”

Valenti, who had watched quietly until now, opened his briefcase and consulted a page he drew out. “We have Tina McCannon of Paradox PI on board. Also. . .Jeffrey Miles, the TV psychic. I think you’re familiar with them?” He met my gaze and matched my stare. One predator sizing up another. Suddenly, I was the one who wanted to look away.

“You got Tina to agree to this? And Jeffrey?”

Both of them were psychics; Tina worked with a team of paranormal investigators on primetime TV, and Jeffrey did the channeling-dead-relatives thing on daytime talk shows. I’d had adventures with them both, and the prospect of spending two weeks in a cabin in the middle of nowhere taping a TV show was a lot more attractive if I’d be doing it with them.

“What do you think, Kitty? Do we have a deal?”

I needed to make some phone calls. “Can I get back to you on that? I need to check my schedule. Talk it over with my people.” Most of my people were already in the room, but the Hollywood talk amused me.

“Of course. But don’t take too long. We want to move on this quickly. Before someone else steals the idea.” Provost actually winked at that, and his smile never faltered. Valenti had settled back and was regarding me coolly.

“You’re not scheduling this over a full moon, are you?” I said.

“Oh, no, certainly not,” Provost said, way too seriously.

“Just one more question,” I said. “Have you signed on Mercedes Cook?”

Provost hesitated, as if unsure which answer would be the right one. I knew which answer was the right one: if the Broadway star/vampire/double-crossing fink was on the show, I was staying as far away as possible.

“No,” he said finally. “She turned us down flat.”

Wonders never ceased. But they’d asked her. And she’d said no, so that was a point in the show’s favor. “Ah. Good,” I said, and Provost relaxed.

We managed polite farewells and handshakes. Ozzie and I walked the two producers outside to their rented BMW. Provost continued to be gracious and flattering. Valenti stayed in the background. Sizing me up, I couldn’t help but think.

After they’d driven away, we returned to the building. The summer sun beat down. It had been a beautiful day, a recent heat spell had broken, and the air felt clean. Smelled like rain.

I turned to Ozzie. “Well?”

He shrugged. “I think it’s a great opportunity. But it’s up to you. You’re the one who’s going to have to go through with it.”

“I just wish I knew what kooky tricks they have up their sleeves. What are going to be the consequences if I do this?”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” he said.

I hated that question. Reality always came up with so much worse than I could imagine. “I could make an idiot of myself, ruin my reputation, lose my audience, my ratings, my show, and never make a living in this business again.”

“No, the worst that could happen is you’d die on film in a freak accident, and how likely is that?” Trust Ozzie to be the realist. I glared at him.

“Who knows? At best it’ll draw in a whole new audience. To tell you the truth, with people like Tina and Jeffrey involved, it kind of sounds like fun.”

“You know what I’m going to say,” Ozzie said. “Any publicity is good publicity.”

So far in my career, that had been true. I was waiting for the day when it wasn’t. “Let me call Tina and Jeffrey and find out why they signed on.”

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HOTTER THAN HELL
by Rain Weaver

Want a taste of Heaven? Go to Hell.
Legend has it that the Incubi were originally fallen angels, irresistible creatures who sacrificed their place in Paradise for the touch of mortal lovers. They live among us still, in the shadowy, dream-haunted fringes of modern society, indulging their insatiable lust and feeding on our desire—with our blessings.

The Rose Legacy
A valuable inheritance is passed from one female member of a wealthy family to another, as it has been for centuries. But Camille Price, the beneficiary, doesn’t know it’s a generational curse that includes sacrificing her body and soul to an Incubus who fulfills her every erotic dream—and nightmare.

Ravenous
Failed cleric Adam Bachmann knows a demon when he sees one. He just can’t seem to resist succubus Leyla Cheval, even though her insatiable sexual appetite is draining him of life. To save himself and others, he must sacrifice the only heaven he’s ever known and destroy the dark angel he’s come to love.

AN EXCERPT FOR YOU:

The Rose Legacy

“Camille!”
The sound of her name blew through the open window like a late afternoon storm. Rosemary’s voice coming from below, sultry as always, but curt and businesslike—and obviously expecting an immediate response.
“Oh, hell.” Cam hurried toward the window, pulled up short and hurried back to Mace. “Don’t leave. We need to talk. Stay right here—and out of sight, please.”
She leaned out of the window, giving the drapes a tug to be sure the safety pins held close around her, smiling as if nothing was wrong. “Good afternoon, Aunt Rosemary.”
Roe stood beneath her, a slim flute of champagne in her hand. She wore a black lace teddie with thigh-high boots and nothing else, her hair whipping in the wind. Camille almost laughed. Incredible, how Mace could always seem to lighten her mood. She couldn’t honestly say she liked her aunt, but the woman definitely had her own style. Only Rosemary could dress like that for a stroll and look totally cool.
“My afternoon hasn’t been any better than yours, and yours has apparently been a nasty one. I’ve been walking the grounds. I’ve seen what you did to David’s car. Tell me you didn’t make an absolute fool of yourself in town.”
Oh, hell. She couldn’t take a piss without her aunt knowing. The woman was all over her. “It was just a minor fender-bender. Nobody got hurt and I fully intend to take care of the damage myself. In fact, Reverend Osgood was the only witness and he didn’t seem to think—”
“You went to see the preacher?”
Her aunt’s voice became even sharper as her eyes narrowed. Was visiting the clergy also a no-no? “Well, yes.”
Rosemary laughed, rubbing her legs together in delight. “Well, if he can forgive you, I suppose I can too. What do you think? Isn’t he about enough to make you cream?”
“He has good things to say about you too.”
“What the hell are you doing stuck up in that room on such a nice day?”
Mace snickered behind her, and Cam pulled the drapes even closer. She was not going to let him distract her, or have her aunt come upstairs to see what was really going on. “Actually, I was…daydreaming. Yes, that’s it. Sitting here and mentally laying out plans for the future. Imagining what I’d do with the house, the roses, the garden in general. It could be such a lovely property, I think.”
“Really? Tell me about it.”
Oh, hell, dammit and back to hell. Cam tried to remember the plans she’d formed on her own walk around the grounds—when was that? A year or two ago? Opening her mouth to speak, she clamped it shut in horror as she felt her skirt lifted from behind.
“Camille? Are you all right?”
“I…um…”
“You look a little pale.”
Forcing a tight-lipped grin, she rested her weight on one arm and swatted back at Mace with her free hand. She not only failed to land a single blow, but suddenly found herself hobbled when he smoothly slid her panties down around her ankles. What was he doing? Was the sonofabitch insane? “It’s the accident. I’m afraid it knocked the breath right out of me.”
“Are you ill? We can’t have you getting sick now, not when I’m so close to leaving. If you want, I can come up and—”
“No.”
She fervently hoped she hadn’t shouted the word as loudly as she thought. And that Rosemary hadn’t heard Mace’s soft chuckle.
Or the rasping sound of his zipper going down. “I’m fine. Really.”
Roe peered up at her, one eye closed to the sun. “Then I’m waiting to hear these hot-shot plans, princess.”
“What are you doing back there?” Cam muttered between her teeth, trying to mimic a smile. “I’m gonna kill you.”
“Now, now.” Mace’s voice, whispery and seductive, flowed over her, even as he grasped her buttocks with both hands, kneading possessively. “Mustn’t let Auntie Roe know you’re being a naughty little girl, hmmm?” With a tiny growl from deep inside his throat, he nestled closer, probing her cleft from behind with one thick finger. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just find something to occupy myself while you two girls talk.”

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This weeks Saturday Snippet theme is Parties.

Below is a short peek at a scene from TROUBLE.
In TROUBLE, Samair Jones is starting her own fasion label – one that specializes in lingerie, fetish wear, and dance wear. In this part of hte story she’s teamed up with nightclub owner Val, to have a private party/fashion show in his club, Risque

Some of you might recognize the hero’s best friend, Karl form the snippet on secondary characters last week. Karl was introduced in BOUND, and he’s plays a supporting role in TROUBLE, before he gets his own story in WICKED.

Read Chapter One of TROUBLE

Val found Karl in the Bachelor room, schmoozing with the more influential people that had wanted their privacy assured, and were willing to pay handsomely for it.
To him, it was a contradiction that people who were so paranoid about their privacy would come out to a show anyway. Karl had worked his magic though, assuring them that they would have complete privacy from the rest of the club, with a private show.
The logistics of giving them a separate private fashion show hadn’t been easy to figure out. They’d set up a small changing tent just outside the Bachelor Room’s separate entrance on the side of the building, and the models had agreed to do a change out there. Then they’d all go back inside and do the show again, for the general occupants of the bar.
“How’s it going in here?” he asked Karl when he found him at the back wall, watching over the crowd.
“Smooth, buddy. Your staff is keeping the drinks flowing, and the catering is a definite hit.”
Val looked over at the tables along the back wall of the room. He’d arranged for buffet style catering and the two end tables were piled high with hot hors d’oeuvres like poached salmon rounds and crab puffs, along with plates and such. But the middle table was what made it all special.
Centered in the dimly lit area was a long table, the crisp white linen cloth covering it a deep contrast to the dark skinned body stretched out on top of it.
Sushi, sashimi, tempura-battered veggies and prawns covered the woman’s bare flesh. Flower petals of various colors and leafy greens were strategically littered over her breasts and belly, while a small porcelain plate with pickled ginger and wasabi waited in the juncture of her thighs, just hiding enough of her hairless pussy to tease.
“For two hundred bucks a head I figured I better come up with something other than free booze for them. Ambrosia Catering promised me that, and I see they delivered.”
Karl slapped him on the back.
“All the tickets were sold, so that’s some solid coin. Between this and what you make at the front door, you’re home free, brother.”
“As much as I hate to anticipate … I think you’re right. Now if we can sell a lot kinky shit, Samair’s new business will be off to a great start too.”
“How’s she doing?”
Val gave him a look.
“Hey, I like her.” Karl grinned. “She seemed pretty smart, she’s got a rockin’ body, and there’s no arguing with her taste in lingerie.”
“Speaking of which, you got plans later tonight?”
Karl’s eye narrowed. “Not really. Why?”

“Sasha White continues to impress with every new offering. Trouble is an uncomplicated book. It is simply perfect. The solid characterization and plot make a flow smooth and easy across the pallet. Like a perfectly aged liqueur Trouble has bite and fire just the way it should.” ~ Cynthia, A Romance Review

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Years ago I wrote an eBook called Losing It that featured a caterer. The catering company is called Ambrosia, and it’s been a sort of secondary character in several books since then. Like this scene in TROUBLE, a private fashion show/party in a nightclub, where Ambrosia was hired to create a sexy, sophisticated ambiance. The same caterer, Lacey, was also used in MY PREROGATIVE for a bachelorette party. When the rights to the story reverted back to me, I made sure to include it in the back of MY PREROGATIVE, so if you want to know more about Lacey and her catering exploits, that’s the place to start. :)

***For a chance to win a signed copy of TROUBLE tell me in the comments what you’re favorite theme is for a party. Or just say hi and put your name in the hat. I’ll do the draw when I get back from my vacation, and announce the winner on December 24th. ***

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For more excerpts form some other talented authors, check out the links below!

Vivian Arend
Moira Rogers
Ashley Ladd
Jaci Burton
Kelly Maher
Leah Braemel
McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
Shelli Stevens
Shelley Munro
Eliza Gayle
Jody Wallace
Juliana Stone
TJ Michaels

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It’s December 11th and I am now on a cruise ship, heading off to the caribbean. YAY!!
Ok, while I’m gone I’ve got some treats for you all. Blog posts are scheduled for almost every day I’m gone. Yes, thats even more regular than when I’m here isn’t it? LOL

There will be book recommendations and excerpts form some of my favorite authors. guest posts by friends, and maybe a surprise or two so be sure to come back each day!

My buddy Charlene has had a few books release recently. If you’re a fan of hot cars and hot guys, you should definitely be checking out REDLINE LOVER from Samhain Publishing..

Riding the edge…
Take Me, Lover, Book 1

When it comes to cars, former race driver Adam Richards knows how to maximize performance. Love? It doesn’t come with a maintenance manual, and it’s just as well. The secrets he’s hiding behind his partnership in a racing garage don’t lend themselves to lasting relationships. Now that Maggie Parker is back in town, though, he’s got a few ideas to make her purr like a finely tuned engine.
Life taught Maggie that men don’t stay. Leaving Adam before he got bored was supposed to protect her from heartbreak…only it didn’t work. If helping her sister was the only reason for coming home, she might have got away unscathed. But the story she’s been assigned to write is going to bring her within scorching distance of her old flame.
Adam is as irresistible as ever—and just as stubborn. He won’t give her a story, but his offer of a no-strings fling is one she can’t refuse. Passion pushes them to the limit, sparking Maggie’s belief that loving Adam is worth the risk.
Until she digs deeper and discovers some things just don’t add up…
Warning: Cornea-blistering sex scenes that use ALL the words, a hero to eat your heart out over and True Romance. Plus fast cars.

Excerpt:
Maggie didn’t remember leaving her chair and walking around the table to Adam, but she must have, because suddenly she was there. The air felt heavy, or maybe she’d just forgotten to breathe again. Maybe it was just Adam and the unbearable tension of knowing she was going to feel him against her skin. The absence of his touch had a weight to it that pressed her down onto his lap.
His hands closed on her wrists and pulled her in, closer. His voice rasped into her hair. “Do you think it’s safer to sit sideways like that?”
Maggie leaned into the solid wall of his chest. “Nothing about this is safe.”
“Put your legs over mine. Face me.”
She shook her head. That would be too much. His chest pressing into her breasts. His hips settled into the cradle of her pelvis and her open thighs. The heat of him burning through layers of clothing until she couldn’t stand it and tore them off. She’d done that once, ripping with frantic hands, not knowing if it was her shirt or his, or both, just needing his bare skin against hers and as much of him inside her as she could get. Her sex clenched as if protesting the empty space she wanted him to fill and she shivered as if she’d been cold for months and only now remembered how it felt to be warm.
“You stayed away a long goddamn time,” Adam muttered. She felt his lips move against her hair, and that tiny caress made her weak.
“I don’t live here anymore. Remember?”
“I remember.” Adam’s hands on her wrists tightened. “You left a note on the bathroom mirror. Hell of a way to say goodbye.”
She’d tried to say goodbye the traditional way, but her mouth always turned traitor. It proved incapable of doing anything but kissing him until there wasn’t any space or breath for words. And then in the end she couldn’t leave him sleeping without any explanation. So she’d scrawled a few words on a post-it note and stuck the message where he’d see it.
“You could have woken me up.”
Maggie closed her eyes and shook her head. If he’d been awake, she would never have been able to look into his face and say goodbye. She’d tried, not just that night, but nearly every night. Beginning with the first one when she’d gone to him knowing she was leaving and determined not to go without giving in to the desire to be with Adam, just once.
Only once hadn’t been enough for either of them. She hadn’t been prepared for that. Hadn’t expected Adam to want her the second or third or fourth time that night. Hadn’t expected him to ask her to stay. Hadn’t imagined waking up to him settling over her and between her thighs the next morning while he woke her up everywhere.
And then the days that counted down to the last one passed in a tangle of heat and need. Talking had been low on the priority list whenever they were together, and she hadn’t been willing to give up any of the minutes she had with him. Hadn’t wanted to spoil it.
“Did you think I’d make a scene?”
“What?” Maggie’s eyes flew open and she turned to look at him without thinking about how close he was. “No. I didn’t think you’d make a scene over me leaving.”
She didn’t think he’d notice or care, in fact, and maybe that was why she hadn’t been able to say the words out loud to him. By the way, Adam, I’m moving to Chicago. I have a job with a monthly entertainment magazine there.
Maybe she’d harbored a fantasy so secret she’d never dared to look at it, tucked away in a hidden corner of herself, in which she said those words and he refused to let her go. If she’d said the words to him and he’d nodded and said, “I’ll check your tire pressure before you leave,” it would have shriveled that secret dream forever.
Adam would never demand that she stay with him. But the wish pierced her and she closed her eyes again so he wouldn’t see it written there as clearly as her printing on that goodbye note.
“Kiss me, Maggie.”
It wouldn’t take much. She only had to change the angle of her head, lean closer a fraction of an inch, and her lips would touch his. But she hesitated, caught by the memory of how quickly the smallest contact spiraled out of control.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea right now, Adam.” Her voice came out lower than she’d intended, in a pitch that sounded like seduction and invitation. Even her voice had to betray her around Adam? Unfair.
“Because it isn’t safe?” Adam’s voice was a dark whisper at odds with the bright kitchen.
Maggie nodded. She’d known she’d have to see Adam during her visit. Even if it was just to be told “no” when she asked for an interview. She hadn’t expected him to show up on Anne’s front porch, let alone suggest they pick up where they’d left off six months before. She didn’t have a condom in her pocket, and unless he did, it wasn’t a good idea to start something they’d want to finish.
“Maybe that’s how you like it.” Adam’s hands loosened and stroked her arms, shifting from holding her captive to seducing her into staying. “Do you know why I quit racing?”
“No.” Maggie licked suddenly dry lips, caught by their closeness, the hard muscles of his thighs under her butt, the surprisingly gentle touch of his work-roughened hands on the sensitive skin of her inner wrists and arms. The rough texture of his skin rasped at hers, but his hands were careful, and the combination of toughness and tenderness seduced her all over again.
She remembered those hands on steering wheels very well, pulling peak performance out of any machine he controlled. No wonder he’d driven her crazy every time he put his hands on her.
“I watched you,” she said, a soft admission. “When I was in high school.” He’d been older, dangerous, an enigma in a black leather jacket and a demon on the track. She’d held her breath and sometimes closed her eyes, unable to look, but he never lost control and always won. And then, inexplicably, he’d quit racing and bought a half interest in Village Auto Repair. “Everybody thought you were going to be the next Dale Earnhardt.”
“Earnhardt’s dead. That was kind of a wake-up call. It occurred to me that an adrenaline junkie behind the wheel was going to end up out of the game sooner or later. I realized if I wasn’t careful racing wouldn’t be the only game I’d be out of permanently.”
Maggie frowned. That didn’t ring true. “I thought all race car drivers were adrenaline junkies. Thriving on risk, spitting at danger.”
“To a degree, maybe.” Adam’s hands smoothed their way up her arms to her shoulders, holding her lightly but surely. “There’s something seductive about pushing the redline.”
His hands crept up into her hair, his thumbs rubbing the back of her neck, fingers massaging into the base of her skull while he spoke and Maggie had to fight to focus on his words. “What’s that?”
“The redline?” Adam shifted under her and folded her into his arms with his hands still buried in her short curls. “It’s the edge, Maggie. The maximum speed an engine can reach. When you’re redlining an engine, you’re pushing everything to the limit, as hard as it can go. And if you go just a little too far, something’s going to break.”
He slid one hand around to cup her jaw and lift her chin, angling her face closer to his. “You know that feeling. Don’t you?”
“Yes.” The word was a broken whisper. Her eyes were caught by his. She felt like she was falling into him. Every time she’d been with Adam, she’d felt that thrill of danger and power in every touch, every kiss, and known she was balancing on a very thin edge.
“Ride the redline with me, Maggie.” Adam feathered a kiss across her lips, so soft, so faint it was barely there and yet her mouth burned with awakening tactile memory. “I’ll take you as far as we can both go, and we’ll burn this thing out together.”

“Redline Lover is a fast, scorching hot read. Adam and Maggie burn up the pages from start to finish. Charlene Teglia delivers in this short story. Ms. Teglia doesn’t shortchange any emotion for hot sex either; she weaves the two together in a breath stealing read.” 5 Angels, Fallen Angel Reviews

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I’m off! Yes, I scheduled this post to be published at 6:15 AM, because that’s when I’ll be boarding my first flight (Barring weather complications).I fly to Toronto, then on to Newark where I’ll be meeting up with Delilah Devlin and heading off to our cruise ship for some fun and adventure.

And I am so very ready for this vacation. Yes, it’ll be a working vacation as both Delilah and I have research and writing to do while on our trip, but it won’t be all work.

The last month or so has been hectic for me. I’ve been renovating my condo, with the help of family and friends. I’d show you pics of them working but I like my face the way it is, and I don’t want it re-arranged. So…you get things, not people.

This is the old bathroom vanity/sink sitting in the entryway. I forgot to take a picture of the shower tiles before I had them replaced, but they were white tiles with brown and orange flowers. Yeah, you know, like form the 70’s. The vanity was built in, long, and uninspiring. The same kind that is standard to any apartment over 10 years old.

I hired a guy to redo the tiles. See, nice new white ones with pretty sandstone accent. :) The rest was pretty much built around the new vanity. I fell in love with it when we were at Rona, and that was it. Loved the dark wood, the solid white sink, and the brushed nickle handles. So..we redid the floor, painted (I still can’t believe I went with green. I’m so not a green person, but it looks awesome.) New lighting, faucete and towelbars. And finally, new shiny white trim. :)

Then it was on to the bedroom.

We shoved all the furniture into the middle of the room and threw a couple of drop plastic drop sheets over them. This wasn’t a complete reno job, just a paint, cleanup and redecorate job. The cats hid pretty much the whole time the bathroom was getting done. They didn’t like the sawing, drilling, hammering. But with the bedroom there was none of that, and they were enjoying themselves. Below is Scarlet the adventuress exploring the ins and outs of things beneath the drop sheets.

I have a two bedroom place,and since I live alone one bedroom is my office. They’re both painted, but I have no pictures of them to show you right now. Mostly because they still have no curtains yet, and to me that means they are unfinished.

So far, the bathroom has been completely redone, and the two bedrooms have been painted. My mom is going to repaint the living room, hallway and entry way while I’m on the cruise, as a christmas gift to me. (YAY!) When I get home I’ll get curtains and finish them off, then I’ll take pictures for you.

So,the bathroom got new flooring already, but that’s it, the rest of the place will have to wait until spring.

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Today is the last day before I head off on my vacation! I’m so thrilled to be going.

We had a huge snowstorm on the weekend and all I could think about while I was shoveling out my car was that I was heading to the Caribbean soon. Once the wind stops blowing and the sun comes out the snow everything is all clean and petty. :)
The photo above is of the snow that made it onto my covered deck. Yes, despite the deck having a roof, and being on the opposite side of the building from where the wind was blowing, a foot of snow still made it’s home there. You can imagine what the uncovered parking lot was like.

I have some more errands to run today, and when I woke up and looked out the window my first thought was “I need to shovel again.” Yep. It snowed last night, and is still snowing. Lightly though. It’s a great time to get away!!

My second thought was… “Please don’t let my flight be cancelled tomorrow!”

This is why despite buying extra travel insurance in case I miss the cruise ship leaving port, I ‘m also flying out a day early. Because it’s December, in Alberta, and snow and ice wreak havoc with flight schedules.

The best thing about the snow…it finally feels like December! It was too weird having a whole year go by and it still barely felt like October.

Ok, off to do last minute errands. Be sure to drop by while I’m gone. I have guest bloggers and book recommendations scheduled to post here while I’m gone so come and make them feel welcome.
And don’t forget about Genreality! Jenny Bent will guest blogging over there one day, and so will Charlene Teglia!

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Congratulations Amber Leigh Williams

Please use the contact link in the toolbar above to send me your snail mail information so I can send your book out. :)

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Todays theme is secondary characters, so I chose an excerpt from BOUND, the novel that started it all with Berkley. By started it all I mean it’s the book where Karl came to be. If you’re a long time reader of my blog you’ll know I’m not a plotter, and I’ve never planned to write a series. My books all stand alone, but they all also became connected to each other through secondary characters…like Karl.

He shows up ion this scene in BOUND, (and again later) then he showed up in TROUBLE as the hero’s best friend, Halfway through writing TROUBLE I contacted my editor and asked if I could write Karl’s story next instead of the book we’d planned on. Luckily, my editor trusts me, and she said yes. So…this snippet is Karl’s first appearance… a secondary character got his own story in WICKED.

Moe’s was a small red brick building on the edge of town. The yellow neon sign simply stating ‘Moe’s Place’ could be seen from the highway.
Lillian made good time on the road, and we arrived just before nine o’clock. There were a lot of pick-up trucks, a few SUV’s, and almost a dozen motorbikes in the lot; big monster Harley’s and such with shiny chrome and metallic colors. Anticipation awakened my senses as the possibilities of the night ahead stretched before me.
We stepped into the bar as a threesome, and a few heads turned. Julie was wearing a short leather skirt and tight tank top similar to the one she had me put on. Only she had a lot more plump flesh spilling over the edge. Lillian’s red hair and exotic looks drew many eyes to her. The flowing camisole dress that skimmed her curves kept them there.
Julie had rolled up the waistband of my skirt when we’d stepped out of the van, and my legs got a bit of attention. My funky look didn’t stand out, but I wasn’t being ignored either.
“Look at him,” Julie said, eyeing the bartender.
He wore black jeans and black button up shirt, completely undone to show off the colorful artwork splashed across his hairless chest and belly. I was checking out the way a dragon’s tail disappeared into the waist of his jeans, pointing me the way to a decent size bulge when Julie nudged me in the ribs. I glanced up and saw one eyelid dip in a flirtatious wink.
“What can I get you ladies to drink?” he asked.
Hoping that the dark foundation I wore hid my blush, I ordered round of tequila shots, including one for him.
“Let’s get started, girls.”
The small shaker of salt was passed around, my gaze locking with the bartender’s just as my tongue darted out and swept across the inside of my wrist. I felt so . . . awake. Erotically charged. Every touch made my blood heat more. From the touch of Julie’s hand dressing me, to the rasp of my own tongue across my skin.
“A toast,” Julie said, holding up her shot glass. She flashed naughty grin at the group and spoke loud and clear. “To letting the inner bad girl out to play.”
“I’ll definitely drink to that!” The stud behind the bar said and tossed his shot back with the rest of us.
The tequila caused a sharp burn in my chest, which eased to a pleasant warmth when I bit into the lime slice and the juice squirted down my throat.
“So what’s your name, Darlin’?”
Julie and Lillian shifted down the bar a little, leaning against each other and making it obvious they were a couple. I smiled at the hot guy behind the bar. Making friends with the bartender was always a smart move, no matter what bar you went into.
“I’m Caitlyn.” The fake name came easily to my lips.
“Well Caitlyn. I think we need another drink. How about you?”
He set up two more shot glasses and filled them with amber liquid. I smiled, Ohhh, I was going to have fun. I could feel it in my bones. And every other part of my body.
“Sure. What’s your name, Mr. Bartender?” I leaned against the bar, using the edge of it to plump up my cleavage a bit more.
He of course noticed, and made no effort to hide the way his eyes lingered on my pushed up boobs when he spoke. “Rick. You need anything tonight, you come see me ok?”
We clicked our glasses together and another ounce of tequila slid down my throat.
The second shot went down much smoother than the first and the warmth in my chest was spreading fast. Julie grabbed my elbow and pulled me over to them. Leaning close she whispered in my ear. “Cute as he is, Caitlyn. You need to flirt with more than him to win this contest.”
“No problem,” I assured her, scanning the crowd.
“You have an hour before the contest. There’s a bunch of guys back at the pool tables, let’s start there.”
She waved at Rick and we headed to the back of the room where a group of college looking guys surrounded one table, and a few bikers surrounded the other.
Lillian put a coin on one table and Julie a coin on the other. Which ever came up first, we’d play on.
We leaned against the waist high rail that portioned off the pool tables from the rest of the bar. From there we let guys at both tables watch us, as we watched them play.
The human mating ritual had begun.
Soon a college boy approached Lillian and she stood regally while he tried to chat her up. If she gave Julie the signal Julie would chase him away, but one of the best things about going out with them was that they did their best not to exclude me by being too much of couple.
The waitress came over and handed us three more shots of tequila.
“From Rick,” she said.
I smiled and waved at him, Julie slipped her a five-dollar bill. “Thanks, but tell him no more for a while ok?”
The waitress smiled and eased away.
Lillian looked at the shot and shook her head, still talking to the clean-cut college boy. When she mimed her hands on the steering wheel Julie and I grinned at each other. Oh, boy. Trouble was brewing.
Sure enough, as soon as we’d downed those shots, two more appeared. This time in the hands of one of the biker guys.
“You girls look like you’re out to have a good time. I thought you might need a hand.”
I gave him a small smile and looked him over while he made eyes at Julie. He wasn’t bad looking. A bit older, maybe in his early thirties. Dark hair and a bit of a beard. The scar that cut across his eyebrow gave him a dangerous look, but the way he looked at Julie was actually sorta sweet.
Go figure.
“We are . . . and we always like a guy who knows how to party.”
He introduced himself as Mark and gestured to the shots he’d placed on the partition’s top rail. Jules reached for a shot, handed one to me, and we all tossed them back. I shifted away from them a bit and watched the pool game some more, while Julie flirted with him.
Normally I had a pretty strong resistance to alcohol, but tequila was the one thing that knocked me for a loop every time. I’ve heard people say it’s more of a high than a drunk, maybe that was why. I didn’t know, and I didn’t care, because right then I welcomed the floating feeling that was edging its way into my head.
As I watched, my eyes kept straying to one guy in particular. Tall, slim, with dirty blonde curls. He’d look almost angelic if it weren’t for the wicked tattoo on his neck. The mix of leather and denim he wore took a bit away from the saintly look too. But it did increase his sex appeal.
He threw back his head and laughed at something one of the others said, and I noticed that while he wasn’t gorgeous, there was something about him that was very attention grabbing. He must’ve sensed my staring, because he turned his head and our gazes locked. A fission of arousal zipped through me, straight to my sex.
He closed one eye in a slow lazy wink and my breath caught in my throat. An arm wrapped around my waist, distracting me, and I was pulled close to a warm soft body.
“We’re here because Caitlyn here is going to win the wet t-shirt contest,” Julie was telling Mark.
Mark’s eyes slid over me and I fought the urge to stick out my newly developed cleavage.
“I am. You’ll cheer for me, right?” Sticking out my bottom lip in an exaggerated pout, I placed a hand on his arm. The universal move of a woman flirting, the casual touch.
“We’ll all cheer for you, pretty girl.” He waved his hand at the group behind him.
“Cheer for you? What are we cheering for?” The sexy blond stepped up beside Mark, his lips lifted in a lazy smile.
“Girls, this is my buddy Karl.”
Karl’s chocolate colored eyes roamed my body. My nipples puckered in reaction, and I forgot about the contest. He reminded me of a lion. The blonde curls the lazy sensuous aura; very laid-back and mellow. But in his eyes . . . in his eyes I could see an intensity that didn’t show in his body language. An intensity that reached down between my legs and stroked my pussy.
A sharp elbow nudged my ribs and I started.
“Oh! I’m going to enter the wet t-shirt contest,” I told him. “Since the winner is picked by crowd reaction, I need as many of you to cheer for me as possible so I can win.
He stepped closer, between me and the others. With his back to them, he cut us off and built a sense of privacy. “You’re going to have to put on a bit of show.”
“I plan to.”
His smile changed from lazy to downright amused. “Ohh, the little kitten has some claws.”
“Kitten?”
“Yeah, you look like a kitten to me. You know, one that will purr real nice when petted properly.”
Cheesy as his line was, I felt it. The fire hidden behind the playful spark in his gaze said this guy knew how to make a girl purr, maybe even scream.
But he didn’t need to know I felt it.
“You think you can make me purr?” I turned away from him slightly, scanning the room. Making it clear I was checking out the other men in the club.
Hot breath brushed against my ear. “I know I can,” he whispered.
And walked away.
Well, crap. I’d wanted to intrigue him, not dismiss him. What was it about me that made men turn me on then walk away?

BOUND was my first single title novel written. It was released by Berkley in July 2006, and remains a reader favorite. Finding copies of it in print is hard, but it’s recently been made available in electronic format. :)

For excerpts from these talented authors; just click on the links below!

Vivian Arend
Moira Rogers
Ashley Ladd
Anya Bast
Jaci Burton
Kelly Maher
Lauren Dane
Leah Braemel
Mandy Roth
McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
Shelli Stevens
Shelley Munro
Eliza Gayle
Victoria Janssen
Jody Wallace
Juliana Stone
TJ Michaels

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AT this time next week I’ll be making my way to the ship for 9 days of wicked fun, intense research, and even some writing with pal Delilah Devlin. Yep, we’re going on an Eastern Carebbean cruise. Nice warm ports, here I come.

Delilah and I get along great, we both like to work hard and play hard. Which means we’ll get some work done, and reward ourselves with play. Lots to play with on a cruise ship.

A friend of mine also works on the ship. He’s an iceskater, (yes, this ship has an ice rink on it) and he said he’ll have lots of free time so he’s gonna show us around, and be our guide when he can. When he can;t- no worries. We can explore on our own. We’re good at that.

Yes, One more week…then Im gone until CHristmas. YAY!!
ANyway, cuz i’m in such a good mood JHere’s a one day giveaway. Leave a comment and be entered to win a signed copy of PRIMAL MALE.

The sequel to SEXY DEVIL has arrived!

Surrender to your wildest instincts…

PRIMAL POWER
An empath with the ability to sense others’ emotions, Drake Wheeler has survived by keeping his own feelings shut off from the world. But nothing has prepared him for the sudden smoldering need that overtakes him in the presence of pureblood shape shifter Melissa Montrose. Even more surprising—he can’t sense anything around the sultry bookstore owner…except for his fierce urge to take her here, now, over and over again…

PRIMAL HEAT
Melissa has lived her life in a small town, hiding her family’s mysterious birthright. A fling with the sexy tourist who wanders into her bookstore seems like a delicious, temporary diversion, until Drake touches her in exactly the way she craves, teasing and tempting every inch of her body into explosive ecstasy. Drake’s obviously a man with secrets, but Melissa’s got a few of her own, and she’s going to show him just how wild and raw pure, primitive desire can be…

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