Meet Cujo's Sister, Jezebel!

Alisha: Welcome to my stop for Jezebel's Virtual Book Tour! Glad you're here today, Gordon. ;)


ATTN BLOG READERS: LEAVE A COMMENT FOR A CHANCE TO WIN A $50 Amazon Gift Certificate!

[Gordon Kessler] Thanks for hosting Jezebel on your blog, Alisha! I thought I’d turn the interview over to Channel Two News reporter Henry Haskins—he is a professional, and a bit of a pompous ass, as well.

Haskins: Look who’s talking. You’re just lucky there’s a lady present. Oh, and what a fine lady it is—good evening Julie Newton. I’ve been so-o-o looking forward to this interview.

Julie: It’s Parker. You know that, Henry. It’s been Parker for over eight years, now.

Haskins: Oh, I remember…. I also remember some of the really good times we had in the back seat of my Chrysler....

Julie: That’s a lie, and you know it. You’re just trying to get things riled up with Tony, again.

Haskins: Well, can you deny we had a little fling?

Julie: Yes, I can. You asked me out. You were nice on the first date so I thought a second time wouldn’t hurt. I was wrong…you got handsy and I had to fight you off with my shoe. I see you still have that little scar above your right eye from the heel.

Haskins: Oh, come on, baby. You can tell the truth…what we had was—

Julie: What we had was a fight, you grabbed where you shouldn’t, and I gave you a heel to the head. Let’s get on with the interview, shall we? (reaching for her shoe)

Haskins: All right, okay…don’t get all weird on me, again. So, tell me about your part in Jezebel. I’ll bet you were scared witless.

Julie: There were times. I was mostly afraid for the children. But when Jezebel was after me…well, I can’t even describe the fear.

Haskins: Yeah, she’s one big, mean bitch, isn’t she?

Julie: Well, not in the way you might think. You’d have to read the story to understand, but she was very misunderstood.

Haskins: Uh-huh. Like when she tore her master’s throat out?

Julie: (sighing) Like I said, you’ll have to read the story to understand. It’s very deep. And there was a lot going on around that time. Things seemed crazy all over. The entire town seemed under some kind of strange spell. Regardless, I knew Tony would keep us safe.

Haskins: Oh, yeah, your big stud, ex-Marine hubby. The guy you caught rootin’ like a hog on that slutty little Sarah Hill.

Julie: (slipping one shoe off) That will be enough. As usual, you have the story completely turned around. I trust Tony—I trust him more than anyone. And Sarah, well, she’s a bit of a tease, but that’s all. I’m sure nothing happened…

Haskins: (chuckling) Yeah, you’re sure—okay, now put the shoe down…Well, anyway what about Lt. Jack Simpson? He’s been Tony’s best friend for a long time. What kind of a guy is he.

Julie: Jack’s the best. He’s a real family man, and he’s been a really good friend. He’s always there when we need him. And he’s a great detective.

Haskins: Uh-huh. Rumor has it that Simpson might not make it through to the end of this story. We know he’s not a big fan of dogs—something about a traumatic attack when he was a child. There’s even talk that this could be the last we see of Doc and Patsy White Cloud. Even a rumor that Tony’s got some sort of terminal disease….

Julie: Talk, talk, talk. Read the book and you won’t have to speculate. Are you a reporter or a rumor chasing busy-body.

Haskins: (with a creepy sneer) Busy body? I wouldn’t mind getting our bodies busy, if you know what I mean. No one has to know. I’ll cut it out of the interview, and ….Ow! Hey, stop it! You’re going to put my eyes out with that thing. Ouch, damn it! Ah, man, you chipped a tooth. Can’t I ever finish an interview without a black eye or broken nose?

Julie: (slipping her shoe back on and heading for the door) An eye for an eye and heel for a heel. Next time you’ll be eating the entire shoe!

Haskins: Good lord! That woman has fire! Anyway, if you get into reading stuff—I’m more of a game player, myself—you might want to check out Jezebel. I’ve heard it’s nothing like what you might expect, and it has a great ending that will give you a smile and a chill at the same time.

Jezebel and Kessler’s other thriller novels Brainstorm and Dead Reckoning are on sale for a limited time as eBooks for only $.99, everywhere eBooks are sold (Amazon, iBooks, Sony, B&N, Kobo, Smashwords). And there’s a great Jezebel book trailer on YouTube HERE and one for Brainstorm HERE.

Happy Halloween!

Blurb

Sleep lightly tonight…

A madman has come to town seeking a diabolical revenge and large dogs begin attacking their masters for no apparent reason and with heinous results.

Animal Control Director Tony Parker must find out why and stop the murderous attacks. Meanwhile, Jezebel, a huge black Great Dane has killed her master and is loose, terrorizing the city and stalking Parker and his family. Parker and Sarah Hill, his beautiful and seductive young assistant, attempt to unravel the mystery and stop the terrible carnage while dealing with their own demons and lusty desires.

The attacks must be stopped. Jezebel must be found-and soon, you see--there is one other complication. Parker seems to have come down with an annoying little virus. No, it's not one of those irritating summer colds. It's certain death.

She's a murderess, huge and black as a hell-bound night.

Beware. Jezebel is on the loose!

Excerpt

In the grayish soup, a dark vision appeared. Floating down the middle of the street, it slowly formed into a recognizable shape.

An animal. A large black animal. A huge Great Dane. It walked with confidence. Long, thin legs. Mouth closed, head and eyes fixed straight ahead. Occasionally, its feet splashed one of the pools. Light from the streetlights caused a sparkle from underneath its neck with every step of its left forefoot. A large diamond, set on a gold tag, captured the light and shot it out like a laser. The dog maintained its pace for what seemed like minutes.

Finally, it stopped. With its body still pointing down the street, it slowly turned its head to the right and looked up a sidewalk leading to the front door of a house. It stared, still emotionless, at the door. At Tony Parker’s door.




About the Author:Gordon A Kessler is a former US Marine parachutist, recon scout, and Super Squad team leader, with a bachelor's degree in creative writing. He is a Master Instructor for Johnson County Community College, National Academy of Railroad Sciences, and the BNSF Railway. He has taught novel writing for Butler County Community College, English Composition for Hutchinson Junior College and has previously indie-published the thriller novels Brainstorm and Dead Reckoning, and a book about the novel-writing craft, Novel Writing Made Simple.

He is a founder and current president of the Kansas Writers Association and tries to stay connected to writers and the writing industry by doing speaking engagements at writers conferences and for writers organizations, and does his own "The Storyteller" seminar in Wichita, Lincoln (Nebraska), Kansas City, and other Midwestern cities based on his Novel Writing Made Simple book.

You can find Gordon at Writers Matrix and Indie Writers Alliance where writers go for help with their writing endeavors.

His author website is HERE.

Other links:

Readers Matrix
Twitter
Facebook
Linked In



Tour Stops and Dates for Gordon can be found HERE.

DON'T FORGET TO LEAVE A COMMENT FOR A CHANCE TO WIN A $50 GIFT CERTIFICATE FROM AMAZON!! The more you comment on the book tour, you better your chances of winning! Good luck and Happy Halloween!

Alisha: Gee, thanks, Gordon! I was once chased down by a ginormous dog when I was 7 months pregnant. As if I wasn't afraid of dogs enough..yikes!

David M. Brown ~ Fezariu's Epiphany ~ Virtual Book Tour! And Prize Drawing!

Please welcome David M. Brown to my blog today. I'm thrilled that he has stopped by on his book tour to discuss world building!

Mr. Brown was born in Barnsley in 1982 and first conceived the idea of Elenchera in college. His love of history and English led him to read these subjects at Huddersfield University. David is inspired by medieval history, Norse mythology and Japanese role-playing video games and anime films. He lives in Huddersfield with his wife Donna and their six rescue cats.




A World Like No Other
Having spent more than ten years building the world of Elenchera I’d like to think I have an idea or two about creating worlds. I’m no expert with all the right answers, you understand, in fact my approach to world building may be completely and utterly wrong in most people’s eyes but these methods have allowed me to make Elenchera what it is today i.e. 2,000+ pages of history, 500+ maps and many memories of aching hands from drawing maps and tired eyes from forming extensive timelines and an A-Z of all things Elenchera (that one is still in progress I’m not ashamed to say!).

I first decided in 1999 that I wanted to start writing fantasy and that it would have to take place in a fictitious world called Elenchera. World building hadn’t been in my list of life experiences up until that point so I was something of an amateur in how to about it. My primary concern was having a world map. I spend a bit of time drawing different lands and continents before feeling the need to colour in the land, mountains, rivers, lakes and the surrounding oceans. Once finished I already had some basic ideas in mind about how the history was going to work out. The positioning of the different islands had left a large body of water effectively splitting the world into East and West Elenchera. Drawing on our own history I decided the two halves would exist oblivious of each other for the first eleven Shards (my term for ages of history in Elenchera). In the Twelfth Shard, voyages of discovery began and what follows is imperialism and colonialism on a huge scale. That strand of history came just from drawing a world map so I’d certainly recommend doing maps of your own. You don’t need to be a cartographer to do so. My maps are absolutely shocking, I don’t mind admitting that, but I am judged on my writing rather than my drawing skills, right?

Elenchera began as one large landmass but during the First Shard it was divided into twenty-three individual lands. Having made that decision I drew the individual maps so I knew the geographical layout for each land and then I drew a different map for each Shard to demonstrate the many changes occurring i.e. new towns erected, settlements destroyed or renamed. Having to draw one for each Shard was laborious work, I’ll admit, but it’s been more than worth it. Having a map with all the landmarks, towns and villages in place is ideal for reference but when working on those early maps I was conscious that they would have few settlements to begin with. Pioneers had to find suitable sites first of all, building isolated settlements in one part of the land before gradually progressing and erecting new villages and towns as they travelled further afield and, of course, the populations increased. These were just the basics I tried to abide by but making sure these aspects were correct made it easier to build the rest of the history.

Rather than do the entire history of individual lands I tended to work on a Shard by Shard basis, ensuring everything was correctly cross-referenced e.g. land A is at war with land B so this must be noted in the individual history of both lands. There were was a time when I did nothing but the history for three years in a row and it became arduous at times but I always reminded myself what I would have once it was finished – an encyclopaedia for a fictitious world, the perfect reference book for writing as many novels as I wish. While Elenchera is still not completed, it is in a position where I can draw inspiration from it for my novels and Fezariu’s Epiphany is the first result of those years spent world building.



Blurb
The White Oak, Clarendon’s oldest brothel, lured and destroyed men by the thousands. Fezariu was different. He had never been drawn by the White Oak’s vices but the brothel had still ruined him when he was just a boy.
Salvation came in the form of the Merelax Mercenaries – Elenchera’s most prestigious hired hands. They gave Fezariu the chance to escape from his past. Immersed in the world of dangerous assignments in the colonies Fezariu longed to forget everything about his childhood but only in facing the past would he ever be free of it.
RRP: £9.99/$14.99 (paperback), $4.99 (ebook)


Excerpt
Prologue
A sudden lull in the snowfall allowed the overhanging moon to bask the valley in its nocturnal splendour. Fezariu’s gaze fell upon the crystalline glitter on the surface of the snow and he felt a slight ironic smile come to his numb lips as he absorbed this intricate beauty in the midst of countless fading lives. In his arms, Tessera awoke and now seemed oblivious to the mortal wound she had suffered in the battle the mercenaries had so decisively lost.
‘Do you remember when we first trained with General Bayard, Fezariu?’ Tessera asked, briefly closing her eyes, causing tears to run down her face, their trace briefly alleviating the bitter and enveloping cold.
‘My erstwhile teacher with selective hearing,’ Fezariu replied with a wry smile. ‘How could I forget?’
When Tessera failed to respond, Fezariu began to feel her edging closer to delirium. Her questions became frequent though she awaited no response or acknowledgement of any kind from Fezariu.
‘Do you remember sitting on the wall overlooking Redemption with Vintaro and smoking Mizuansi?’ Tessera asked, between painful coughs. ‘I can still see the luminous stars through the myriad of colours rising from the bowls of our pipes. The seemingly endless conflict throughout the streets was over and with it the rebellion. The city stood subdued and silent save for the foundations of the tallest buildings that still trembled in the aftermath of the devastation. Do you remember the torches that lit up the harbour at Strathmore? Our journey to Clarendon changed everything. We should never have gone there. It was never the same after that. Do you remember, Fezariu?’

Links
The Elencheran Chronicles
The World According to Dave
Facebook Elencherea
Facebook Fezariu
Twitter
Book Video

Don't forget to leave a comment for a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift certificate!Follow the tour and comment! The more you comment, the better your chances of winning. TOUR DATES HERE!

Happy Reading!
~Alisha

Virtual Book Tour ~ Romance Novel by PJ Jones and A Contest

PJ Jones began writing Romance Novel in the spring of 2009 when she was seriously ill, thinking that this book would be her last dying legacy for mankind. After you read this book, you will probably wonder if she was trying to seal her fate in hell. Who knows? But PJ Jones has conquered her illness and is much better now. But you probably don't care, as long as her writing is funny. PJ Jones is also an avid reader of real romance novels. So why does she poke fun of them? Consider it comic relief.

Blurb for Romance Novel
Smella Rosepetal must find a millionaire husband to finance her baby’s heart transplant. She flies home to her deputy father’s ranch in Pitchforks, Texas, where she falls in love with Deadward Forest, a wealthy environmentalist vampire. 
 
When a deranged murderer is on the loose in Pitchforks, killing romance heroines, Deadward assumes Smella would be safer without him. Smella turns to her childhood friend, Snake Long, for comfort. But Snake doesn’t have the money to save her baby, so Smella places herself in peril in a desperate hunt for a rich husband.
 
Time is running out for Smella’s baby, and she must escape the Australian Outback, then face down Flabio, an overweight and disgruntled, aspiring cover model, plus enraged vampire wives and their homosexual, vampire, cowboy husbands, a jealous were-gerbil, James Bond, a drunk rodeo clown and Smella’s strange boyfriend who wants to drain her blood, yet is repulsed by her smell.


Introducing FLABIO by PJ Jones

When I began writing ROMANCE NOVEL, FLABIO was initially meant to be a minor secondary character, but after falling in love with his ‘mannly’ dialog and quirky mannerisms, I knew he had to have a bigger role in the book. FLABIO is introduced during a modeling shoot for a domestic violence ad, though he tries to manipulate the shoot by dressing as a rogue pirate and passionately embracing his ‘lover’.  He’s angry when the photographer makes him ‘let his beer gut show’ and pummel the girl. Later, he becomes irate with Gus, his agent, when Gus tells him he’s ‘just too fat for romance’.  That’s when FLABIO decides to take action. If he can’t join them, he’s determined to kill all romance heroines, and believe me, romance heroines abound in this novel.
Alisha wanted me to bring FLABIO to today’s blog, and he’s been dying to be back in the spotlight. Bear with him. He has this habit of speaking in third person.
Hello, this is FLABIO, God of Romance and Lover of Women. FLABIO has small problem. FLABIO needs woman so FLABIO can be real lover. FLABIO enjoys eating funnel cakes, romantic strolls on beach, eating donuts, shopping at Pottery Barn, eating blueberry muffins, going to movies, and eating spaghetti, hotdogs, and pizza. If you are good cook, and don’t mind to eat smaller portions, possibly only crumbs, of your meal at dinner table then FLABIO is man for you. Sorry, one meal not enough to feed God of Romance, who needs much good food for making strong muscles.  
Please, ask FLABIO any questions and he’ll be sure to answer.  Here’s a scene FLABIO’S infamous modeling scene from ROMANCE NOVEL.  
 
Long flaxen hair blowing in the artificial breeze, the bronze-skinned model flexed his bulging biceps while crushing the voluptuous blonde to his chest. Crying out, she surrendered her body to his mercy.
He was a man in his prime; a god among mortals. Women desired him, men envied him. Who cared that he wasn’t as rich or as successful as his Italian cousin by a similar name? The time had come for a new king of romance.
“Hey, Flabio,” the pock-faced, aging photographer with a bad comb-over, called from behind a wide-angle camera lens.  “Could you look a little more angry?” he whined with a totally unattractive, nasaly pitch. “Maybe pull back your fist like you’re gonna pummel her.”
A look of indignation and shock crossed Flabio’s dark eyes as he jutted his prominent chin. “But we are lovers!” he snapped in a thick, yet superficial, Italian accent.
The photographer rolled his eyes. “This is a domestic violence ad, not a cover for a romance novel. Maybe you could pretend like you’re strangling her.” He motioned to Flabio’s  puffy pirate shirt, with pearl buttons and double-stitched seams. “Unbutton your shirt and let your beer gut show.”
Flabio’s square jaw dropped before he narrowed his gaze at the photographer. He shoved the girl with such force, she nearly fell over. He ripped his shirt off, revealing a distended abdomen and two fleshy man-boobs. Palming his fist, he stalked the girl.
With wide eyes and trembling limbs, she squawked like a deranged chicken, running circles around the studio.
“That’s good,” the photographer moaned. “Rough and dirty.”

Excerpt
“I wouldn’t drink that poison if I were you.”
He spoke with a slight accent, reminding Smella of a lonely soul from another place, another time. Or maybe just a British guy trying to sound like he was from nineteenth century Boston.
Smella’s eyes widened. Her gaze shot to the beer, then back to the stranger. “What poison?”
“You can’t pin anything on me!” The bartender hollered while stumbling backward, before falling against a shelf of beer mugs.
Locked in the stranger’s dark gaze, Smella ignored the sound of crashing glass. She was more interested in his perfectly kissable blood red lips and the cold, impenetrable aura that radiated off his stony features.  
“Alcohol destroys your kidneys.” The stranger flashed a subdued smile, revealing pearly white, jagged teeth.  
“You’re right.” Turning down her lips in disgust, Smella pushed away the offending glass. “Thank you for berating my choice of beverage. Throughout this novel, you may occasionally behave like a total control freak, but I know you are only concerned for my well-being, and because I am a woman, obviously I’m too stupid to act in my own best interest.”
Somewhere in the darkest recesses of her mind, she thought she heard the obese bartender scream, “Help me! I’m bleeding everywhere!” But she refused to let him ruin the romantic tension that she was trying to build with the tall pasty stranger. Leaning toward him, she playfully batted long lashes while twirling a lock of hair around her finger.  
But the stranger didn’t respond to her flirtation. He was too busy pinching his nose and making a gagging sound.
She scooted back. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” He spoke through a wheeze. “I have to go.”
In a flash, he was gone.
Smella was confused, bewildered, frightened, rejected, vulnerable, hurt, self-conscious and irritated.
But never mind her PMS.
She was more concerned about her awkward encounter with the kind stranger. 


PJ's Blog

PJ's Facebook Page

ONE LUCKY COMMENTER WILL RECEIVE A $15 GIFT CERTIFICATE TO STARBUCKS OR AMAZON.COM GIFT CARD! FOLLOW THE TOUR FOR MORE CHANCES TO COMMENT AND WIN!!!

PJ JONES TOUR INFORMATION AT GODDESS FISH PROMOTIONS

Virtual Book Tour ~ T. Harrison ~ WIN A KINDLE!!!

Alisha: Please welcome T. Harrison to my blog today. She's an erotic romance author currently living in the south with her impish husband, two smallish men and one smallish boxer pup. She can often be found with her nose pressed to the screen of her Kindle, reading red hot erotica, nail biting thrillers or bone chilling horror and paranormals by the small halo of illumination created by her book light. She writes to stave off the boredom of living in a small town. Her stories generally fluctuate from urban/contemporary to paranormal romance but, are always dirty.

T. Harrison: Thanks for having me, Alisha! And hello to all of your blog readers! *waves*
I’ve always been a writer. I know all writers say that but, it’s usually true. I just didn’t know that I was a romance writer until recently. My mother, grandmother and great-grandmother watched a lot of soap operas. They called them ‘stories’. “Hush now, my stories are on!” was a common admonishment during the noon hour. Young and the Restless, Bold and the Beautiful and Guiding Light. These shows were my first exposure to the romance genre. All those longing looks, heated embraces and passionate kisses marked my young mind in a way that wouldn’t come to full fruition until much, much later but, they definitely shaped the way stories bloomed in my mind.

I didn’t write my first full length novel until much later and when I wrote it, I was sure I would get published. It didn’t happen. I queried and edited--queried and edited again and still racked up more rejections than I did contracts. Pretty soon, I began to get discouraged. Who wouldn’t? Insanity is repeating the same behavior expecting a different outcome and writing is definitely a form of insanity. So I stopped writing for a while, enrolled in some online classes and entertained the idea of getting a 9 to 5.

Right around this time, e-publishing began to really kick off. People have been reading books on their computers for years but, suddenly it was a more respected avenue of publishing. Kindles were becoming more popular and the Nook debuted at Barnes and Noble. Everyone was talking about e-books and how they were turning the publishing world upside down. This seemed like the right time to try and get published again so I began to research e-publishers. But a strange thing happened during those Google searches. Names like Joe Konrath and Amanda Hocking and H.P. Mallory kept appearing in the search results. And these brave souls were not only e-publishing but, self-publishing. I began to wonder if this was something I could do.

When I spoke to my friends and relatives about it, they all said it was a great idea. They’ve all been reading my stories for years and were convinced that this would be the best way to get my work out there. I wasn’t convinced. I decided to publish some of my shorter works, LoveWanderLust and The Undoing of Langston Black, while I continued to query my novel length works to traditional publishers. I received a few requests for partials but, still no requests for the full manuscript but, my little self-pubbed books were selling. I made a little cash from them and I also received enough feedback to let me know that my writing wasn’t hopeless and there were people out there who would read and love my stories. So, after receiving yet another rejection, I decided to jump into self-publishing with both feet and the result is my new release, In Her Closet! It features an unconventional romance heroine, a yummy hero and a cast of fun and sexy secondary characters. I hope you all will come to love them as much as I have.

Thanks again for having me and don’t forget to comment on this post for your chance to win a Kindle!



Blurb

Fresh off of a night of anonymous sex we join Yves Santiago on the curb for a cigarette. Yves is a self-proclaimed slut who vows to live her life as carelessly as a man and make no apologies for any of it--though her meddling mother and ex-fiancé seem intent on making it difficult for her to do so. She’s determined to avoid anything that looks even remotely like love and escapes most encounters with her heart and her pride intact.

Then she meets Elijah Weinstein…
Elijah saunters in like a dream proclaiming to be the next great love of her life--a declaration that Yves finds ridiculous, though it doesn't make him any less enticing. With his mossy green eyes, broad, sun-kissed shoulders and a mouth so sensual that it should have an NC-17 rating, Elijah Weinstein is damn near irresistible. She willingly accepts his challenge, certain she will be able to get what she wants without relinquishing her heart.

Excerpt

I dress casually for my evening at the Erotic Literary Salon. I’m excited about this meeting with Elijah Weinstein but, I don’t want to make too big a deal of it. I don’t believe in fairy tales, romantic or otherwise, so I’m always careful not to get my hopes too high. So in my favorite Bob Marley t-shirt and yummy ripped jeans, I sit down at my usual table and settle in to listen to the poets and wordsmiths until it’s my turn to take the stage.

I have no idea what Elijah Weinstein looks like. He told me that he would be wearing a green polo shirt. I scan the room but, I don’t see a Jewish guy in a green polo shirt. He’s late or maybe he just changed his mind all together.

“Now calling the poet Yves Santiago.”

I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans and make my way to the stage. Reading my poetry in front of a crowd still makes me nervous even though I’ve been doing it for years.

“Good evening,” My voice bounces off the back wall and I hate the way it sounds when it makes its way back to me. Any other time I fancy that it sounds deep and sultry but, up here it sounds high and nervous.

“This is more of a ramble than a poem. I call it ‘Sleek and Tawny’.”

I clear my throat, close my eyes and take a deep cleansing breath.

“She’s lost all the parts of her that were pretty.
Her shine and nubile beauty wore off long ago.
Rubbed off--rubbed raw by men.
She’s nothing sweet anymore.
She’s something feral,
something wild.
Sleek and tawny, un animal.
Something constantly in search of something--
someone to devour.
She sees her prey and when he passes her way
the scent of him enlivens her.
She pursues him because in this moment, he
is what she needs.
What she hungers for.
That tender morsel she draws across her teeth
hungrily…
But when her passion is spent
she remains discontent
until a hint of some other succulent scent
rattles her cage.”

I open my eyes. A wave of satisfaction washes over me from the appreciative smiles of the crowd. “Thank you,” I murmur, backing away from the microphone to a chorus of whoops and applause.

A man approaches me as I walk back to my table. Mmm, tasty, I think as he offers me a smile.

“Yves Santiago?”

“Yes?”

“I’m Elijah Weinstein.”

I'm barely able to keep my mouth from dropping open. This is Elijah Weinstein? Elijah Weinstein is gorgeous. Fuck gorgeous. He is damn fine. He reaches for my hand and shakes it, holding on for far longer than is necessary for a greeting. Our hands sway gently between us--a frizzle of friction forming between our palms.

“Nice to meet you,” I sigh, trying my best to keep from licking my lips.

T. Harrison's Website

Twitter: @dirtyscribbler

CONTEST: T. Harrsion will award a Kindle to one randomly drawn commenter, (limited to participants in the continental US). Follow T. Harrison's Virtual Book Tour and comment throughout the tour for more chances to win!

TOUR DATES ARE HERE!

Virtual Book Tour ~ The Promise by Tory Richards

Alisha: Please welcome Tory Richards to my blog today! Tory is a multi-published, best-selling author who was born in Maine but lives in Florida with three crazy cats. She likes to travel, preferably by cruise ship, and doesn’t like to fly but she will if she has to. She collects antiques and art, loves chocolate (who doesn’t?) and good coffee.

Tory has wanted to be a writer since she was a kid, but life got in the way of her dreams. A few years ago, with the support and encouragement of her family, she decided to get serious. Her romances are laced with humor and filled with suspense and sizzling sex.

(Dear Readers ~ Leave Tory a comment today and you'll be entered to win a $15 gift certificate to Bath and Body! Follow the Tour and leave comments for more chances to win! The tour dates can be found here: GODDESS FISH PROMOTIONS )

Tory, please tell us about your journey to publication.

Tory: I was sitting in school one day, when I distinctly remember saying to myself, "I want to be a writer when I grow up." I was young, around ten, and I don't know why I just decided that. My first stories were short and written on note book paper. I can vaguely recall they were akin to fairy tales. I was really into the prince and princess thing back then. Cinderella was and is still my all time favorite.

Then at thirteen I graduated to a manual type writer. My parents got it for me for Christmas. My sister got a TV. They never questioned why I wanted a typewriter. I guess they thought it was for school work. But one day, I felt compelled to tell them my dreams. Their reaction? They laughed at the thought of my becoming a writer. I can remember my dad telling me it cost money to publish a book. Only I didn't let that stop me from writing.

Their hurtful reaction caused me to become what I call a closet writer. I began typing stories in secret. Hiding them to make sure no one found them. I'd die if someone did and read one, and then made fun of it. My parents laughing at me somehow made me feel that it was wrong to want to be a writer. That it was a stupid idea. My confidence was gone. So I was very careful where I hid my stories. When they thought I was shut up in my bedroom doing homework I was actually typing away at some romance that didn't always have a happy ending.

I didn't realize writing had become therapy for me until much later in life.

I wrote for years, until I got older and eventually got married. Then life got in the way, my daughter came along, and my writing took a back seat to more important things. I packed everything away for another day. That other day turned out to be over 20 years. When the urge came back and I dug out those old stories, the paper had turned yellow and some of the ink had faded to the point that I couldn't read it. By now I had a computer and was able to transfer some of them to that.

Still, I kept my writing a secret. Even from my husband. But then one day, out of the blue, my niece said to me, "I like to write and I've got a couple stories started." That immediately peaked my interest, and I cautiously admitted to her that I like to write, too. So we began talking about it. She and my daughter convinced me into letting them read something I'd done, they liked it, and encouraged me to submit to a publisher. I thought, what the heck, I don't want to go through the rest of my life not knowing. I should at least try.

Twp months later I was offered a contract. And that book, Cupid's Arrow was on the publisher's best sellers list for two consecutive months!

So, that's my story and I'm sticking to it:)

Blurb for The Promise

Shannon Hayes’ husband David was killed in Iraq nearly a year ago, and now she
must face her first holiday season without him. With a toddler in tow, she travels to the Vermont farm where the rest of the family has gathered for the holidays. There she comes face to face with the man who was with him when he died, and her destiny, his older brother Ryan.

For the first time in years, Ryan returns home to keep a promise he made to David —to take care of Shannon and their daughter. It’s a pledge Ryan is reluctant to keep because he’s been secretly in love with Shannon since first setting eyes on her. Their attraction to each other is instant, intense and soon the promise isn’t the only thing between them.


Excerpt

“Ryan!” If he heard her, he ignored her, and continued walking toward the garage. “Ryan!” Shannon picked up her robe and dashed down the steps and into the snow. The cold immediately went through her slippers. “Ryan, please wait!”

He rounded the garage and disappeared. Shannon couldn’t believe that he didn’t hear her. She rushed to catch up with him, almost falling when she stepped on an icy patch of snow. She entered the garage just as he opened the door to his jeep. “Ryan!”

He stiffened but didn’t turn around as she expected. Shivering, Shannon stepped infront of him, putting herself between him and the open door. She didn’t know what she was going to do; only that she had to stop him in some way. “What are you doing?” she asked, flinching from the unwelcome coldness in his eyes. It was just getting light enough for her to see his expression, hard and set as usual.

“I would think that’s obvious,” he said flatly, a tick appearing in his jaw. His gaze was focused somewhere over her head.

“Your leaving will ruin everyone’s holiday. Every year, all they ever talk about is you coming home.” His gaze zeroed in on hers with deadly accuracy. He looked so angry, as if he was about to explode. Shannon felt the urge to reach up and kiss away the firmness of his mouth until it was soft and friendly. “Are you leaving because of, ah, what happened?” She didn’t have to spell it out; they both knew what she was referring to.


“I think it’s better this way.”

“I’m not blaming you,” she began. “It’s something that just happened, a moment that got away from us.” Trying to sound as if it was insignificant didn’t come off as convincing as Shannon wanted it to. She could barely look Ryan in the eye because of the heat filling her cheeks.

“What makes you think it won’t happen again?”

Shannon’s eyes rounded in surprise. The little thrill his words caused evaporated quickly when she realized he wasn’t happy about his earlier loss of control.

Would it happen again?

She didn’t have the nerve to ask. Deep down part of her wanted it to. She
could tell he wanted to leave, but she was in his way.

“Ryan please, if you can’t stand being under the same roof with me then I’ll leave.Just, please, don’t hurt your family this way.” It surprised Shannon that his leaving would hurt her, too.

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Happy Reading! ~ Alisha

Virtual Blog Tour ~ Jean Hart Stewart ~ Love Is New

Alisha: I'm thrilled to welcome Jean Hart Stewart to my blog today. I'm always curious about each individual author's method so I've asked her to explain hers. Thank you for stopping by to guest host my blog on your Virtual Blog Tour, Jean! Come back anytime!

Jean: I’m opening myself to a little possible ridicule here if I discuss my writing methods. Mostly it’s the usual ‘make yourself sit down and get those ideas of paper, dammit.’ Once in a while I get stymied. I often have the beginning firmly in mind, as well as the happy ending. I sometimes start out a book by doing the first and the last page, just to solidify the journey. Where I can get stuck is on the soggy, dreaded, middle.

This is where my subconscious can sometimes take over. At times I focus my mind on the problem before I go to sleep. Around two o’clock a solution usually comes to me, full blown and ready to go. I’m usually too groggy and too lazy to get up, put on the light and write it down. So when I’m still half-asleep, I try to memorize a few key words to the solution and then go back to snooze again. Mostly this crazy method works, although I know my dreaming solution is more detailed than my memory. Does this qualify me for some kind of mental institution? The trick is to find a key word, or a few key words and fix it in my mind.

As to research, I do a lot. Every book of mine is set in a different year, mostly because I write serials or historical books. My Druid and Mage series start with the parents’ romance and then progress to each of the children, their friends and their children, although each is a stand alone book. I research the heck out of the period I’m writing about before I truly start writing. My latest historical, For Love Is New, is set in 1815. The hero and heroine are trying to stop the wicked villain from getting money to Napoleon from his British supporters. Yes, there were a lot of those in Britain who wanted Napoleon to win.

Many chapters in For Love start out with a very brief resume of what Napoleon is doing that day to further his escape from Elba. Then it goes on to the action in Britain. I probably did more research for this book than any I’ve written, and loved doing it. So many giant-sized figures in that era, including Napoleon and Wellington.

Would love to answer any questions you have. Do comment and tell me what you think.



Blurb
pleasures of London. He has one duty to discharge before he searches for a mistress. He must offer his protection to Lady Juliet Sloan. Paul Sloan was killed in battle, leaving Christian a horrifying letter of his sadistic treatment at the hands of Roger Gullis. To his dismay, Christian finds Gullis sitting in Lady Juliet’s parlor when he comes to call. All his plans must now concentrate on keeping Juliet safe. Christian further suspects Gullis of being a traitor and his fears for Juliet increase.

Juliet is attracted, but suspicious of which man is the traitor. As attraction between Juliet and Christian grows, Gullis turns cruelly vengeful.

Will Juliet and Christian be able to thwart Gullis’ plans to help bring Napoleon back to power, even as he finds wicked retribution for his rejection by the two lovers he has come to hate?

Excerpt
London, January 2, 1815

“You’re as antsy as a debutante at her first ball, Christian. What in bloody hell is wrong with you?”
Christian threw his best friend an apologetic smile.
“I’ve spent three dammed days at the War Ministry and finally agreed to take an occasional job for them. I didn’t want to do even that. I don’t want to be tied down in any way. Any way at all. And now I must fulfill one last unwanted obligation and call on a certain Miss Juliet Sloan.”
Delaney whistled long and low. “Not really a hardship, my friend. I’ve never met her, but she’s reputed to be a beauty.”
Christian snorted. “I don’t care about getting tied up with a virtuous woman, Delaney, no matter how beautiful. All during this damnable war I dreamed about getting home. I want to start living the life of a carefree bachelor, and all I get is more obligations thrown at me. I want to sample every wicked pleasure London has to offer. Virtuous women are not on the list.”
Delaney laughed out loud at this uncharacteristic outburst.
“Satan’s bones, but you’re really stirred, aren’t you? Make your damned duty call and get it over with.



Buy Link for Love Is New

Virtual Blog Tour ~ Chiczofrenia - crazy is an art form!

Welcome to my blog, Dr. Laina Turner! You've written a book I NEED to read!

YOU CAN’T FIX EVERYTHING
Surprise, surprise. You can’t fix other people. For many women that’s a hard pill to swallow. Having a project so to speak, can make me feel better about who I am and take pressure off myself because then I can be focused on someone else and their issues rather than mine. This “fix-it” mentality seems to be more common in women. I think men take things more at face value rather than look at all the ways they can change someone. There are so many women out there who like to find men to fix. Why? Is it more satisfying to be with someone who needs your help? We all like to be needed but you can’t change people, and don’t you think your time and energy would be better spent if you worked on improving yourself rather than someone else? It can be hard when you have someone who would be just perfect if only . . . But first of all, no one is perfect and you need to accept people for who they are and secondly, who are you to fix them? Maybe they don’t feel they’re broken.
It can be a hard habit to break when you have built a pattern of rescuing someone. It can be difficult to sit back and watch them flounder but you have to remember . . . it’s not your job to fix their problems. Even if all you’re doing is listening, how many times do you need to listen to the same story before you want to scream? And if they’re complaining about the same issues all the time then are you really helping them by allowing them to continually complain rather than giving them some tough love and telling them to quit bitching and do something?
Instead let them figure it out but still be there to help pick up the pieces if they need a shoulder to cry on. You may be surprised that they don’t.
Laina


Chiczofrenia – crazy is an art form – released January 2011.
Chiczofrenic is the term for the woman who is purposeful and intentional in how crazy her life may be. The goal with this book is to recognize many women drive themselves crazy, intentionally, by trying to be all they can. I firmly believe we can have it all. A great relationship, being a great mom, keeping a good house (if that’s important to you), being a career woman, following your dreams, working out, eating right, and many more. Women seem to have the knack for how to manage it all and not go crazy.

Women seem to always take on more and more…and are successful at it.
Women have tried forever to pretend they fit in the norm even when the norm wasn’t what they wanted. I want women to embrace that more - without caring what anyone thinks. Learn to laugh at your own craziness and be cool at the same time. Be the strong individual you want to be while looking like a million bucks.
Being a woman is difficult and is a constant evolution and journey of self discovery. It’s not always an easy journey and through the process you realize everyone has her own issues. Her own brand of crazy, which is my own kind of normal. Crazy but embracing it.

Excerpt 1
Attention can be a four-letter word. Sometimes it can be bad to want it, but it sure is nice to have. Everyone wants and deserves attention whether it be men, women, and kids, young or old, it doesn’t matter. Some people need a lot of attention and I mean need here not want and just want it. Lack of attention can hurt relationships especially when the person you’re needing/wanting attention from doesn’t know you need/want it. It can be hard to tell someone you need/want attention. It goes along with the notion you should be self-sufficient and not need anyone for anything because who wants to seem needy? But why the hell not? If you need it and want it, then ask for it and take it when offered. If the person says no or just can’t give it, wouldn’t you rather know that then be left to wonder or hope? It’s not a sign of weakness to ask for what you want or need but rather it’s a sign of trust that you can put yourself out there and be honest. I also want to reinforce the point of taking the attention when offered. Pretending you don’t need it and rebuffing it from your partner hoping they will keep giving it to you won’t work! You then can’t get mad that they stop giving it.
When it comes to women wanting attention, we all usually jump to the assumption it’s about attention from the male species. But that’s not the only type of attention we may need. We can also want or need attention from a female friend, especially if we are in the midst of a crisis. Attention isn’t always about someone just telling you how wonderful you are. It can be cathartic to get your emotions out, good, bad, and ugly to someone who really cares about you. Someone who can listen and be empathetic, boost your confidence, and help you work through obstacles and issues you may not be able to see clearly on your own. Someone who can volunteer to kick someone else’s ass for upsetting you. But there is a point where you can be overly needy. This can be tough for those around you. You can’t replace your own self-confidence through attention from someone else. Your existence can’t be validated by attention from someone else no matter how much attention you’re getting, as nice as that might sound. If it’s attention you need, how can you give yourself attention?


Follow Dr. Laina Turner on her Blog Tour! Tomorrow she will be here:
2/18/2011 Sexy Adventures, Passionate Tales

Go to Goddess Fish Promotions for more dates!



ISBN: 978-0-578-07034-6
Book: $14.95 Available on www.lainaturner.com
E-Book: $9.95 Available on Kindle and Smashwords

Virtual Blog Tour ~ Clare Austin ~ HOT FLASH

Thank you for having me on your blog site today. I’m thrilled to be here and chat a bit about my new release, Hot Flash.
This has been an exciting year for my writing journey. I’ve had three books released since last August. Butterfly and Angel’s Share, the first two novels in my Fadό Trilogy, have been well received and I’m looking forward to finishing the last in that series soon.
Hot Flash, written before the Fadό Trilogy, was the first book I sent to publishers and agents. I felt it filled a need in a market rarely targeted…baby-boomers. To me, facing “boomerdom” myself, it felt like time. We have time to read, our children, if not grown, are independent enough to allow us a modicum of freedom and we have maturity and sophistication that only experience in life can teach. Why not a heroine turning fifty years old?
Publishers in general did not agree with my theory. So, I put Hot Flash away, wrote Butterfly and sold it almost as soon as I finished it. Angel’s Share came out just a few months later and my publisher, The Wild Rose Press, asked if I had any other stories. I submitted and sold Hot Flash.
Hot Flash is about starting over, learning to trust again and believing in one’s own value.
When this story started to form in my mind I was, literally, working out in an all women’s gym. There we were, sweating away as Cher belted out a song on the CD player, a room full of smart, beautiful, mature women. Sure, we might have a wrinkle here or there and a little cellulite on our thighs, but we know the value of relationship and never discount the virtue in good color and highlights! Though we live in a culture obsessed with youth, it is not true that it is more likely for a woman over forty to be abducted by aliens from outer space than she is to attract the hot guy. Not if we believe in ourselves.
Hot Flash is, I think, tender, full of physical and emotional challenges, but not forgetting the humor and joy that are the necessary comic relief in fiction as well as real life.
Recently I received a wonderful note from a woman in her eighties who has read all my novels. She said these are the first “romance” novels she has ever read and loves them. That kind of encouragement is precious to me. But, Hot Flash is not a book limited to any particular age group.
If you enjoy an in-depth story of relationships and the challenges of blending families, and a sizzling hot romance set in the exciting world of equestrian sport, this novel will capture your imagination and, hopefully, your heart.
I wrote Hot Flash for you. I hope you enjoy it.
Clare

My novels are available from most online booksellers in trade paperback and digital formats.
If you would like an autographed copy of any of my books, please go to my website buy link www.clareaustin.com/books.html and you may order there using PayPal or by contacting me at Authorclare@gmail.com. You can go to www.clareaustin.wordpress.com for updates, ideas, and my random musings.

“Sexy but sensitive, powerful but poignant---Hot Flash is not your daughter’s romance! This is a story for real women. Savor every word.”
---Award winning author---Deb Stover







Back cover blub…

Kate Aiello has spent her entire life trying to please others—her three brothers, her Italian mamma and her husband of twenty-five years. It isn’t insult enough she is turning fifty, and left at the side of life’s road by her philandering husband. Now she has to contend with her body’s betrayal…hot flashes!
The plain truth hits her with each thermostatic aberration—she has never been first in anyone’s life, including her own.
Brandon Sullivan has been on a downward spiral since the death of his beloved wife. Now he is a man desperate to save himself from impending financial ruin, loss of his farm and his life’s dream. He needs to get into the winner’s circle by spring or he’ll be just another poor, landless Irishmen downing his pints and bragging about the good ol’ days.
Sparks fly when Italian attitude meets Irish temper. Add two big crazy families, a barn full of horses and one woman’s menopausal hot flashes and the probability for combustion increases exponentially.
What will Kate and Brandon risk for a second chance at love?


Excerpt from Hot Flash
“So, Katie, tell me…why riding lessons?”
“It’s Kate.” She corrected him.
“What?” He looked genuinely confused.
“Kate…my name…it’s Kate, not Katie.” She wasn’t sure why it bothered her he liked to call her that. Maybe it felt a little too personal. Jeffrey had never called her anything but Catherine.
“Ah and why not? Katie suits you well, a good name for a beautiful woman.”
Nervous laughter welled up in her. “You have that ‘charming Irishman’ thing down to a fine science don’t you? Go ahead, call me anything you want.” Obviously, the man had his own opinions. It was most likely fruitless to try and correct him. She should have resented it, but his arrogance fit him like those breeches he wore. From another man, his attitude would have felt patronizing, but coming from him it was...well…titillating.
He said nothing, just looked directly into her eyes and smiled a slow, lazy grin that made Kate shiver deep in her bones.

Leave a comment for Clare and you could be the lucky person drawn to win a Hot Flash mug or t-shirt! The more you comment on the tour, the more chances you have to win. Clare Austin's Tour Dates

Good luck!

Virtual Blog Tour~ Beyond Eden ~ Kele Moon

Why Ellora’s Cave was right for me!
By Guest Blogger Kele Moon



Beyond Eden, my first novel, just released from Ellora’s Cave September 8th. Laced with symbolism and the beauty of true love, three life long friends come together in this erotic Garden of Eden themed romance. Darker than your average erotic romance, certainly unconventional, Ellora’s Cave was my top choice for a home for it. Aside from Ellora’s Cave being the obvious choice as the largest publisher of erotic romance, they were also a big part of the reason why I wrote it in the first place and thus the publisher I crossed my fingers and toes hoping to grab the attention of.

In 2009 I attended the Romantic Times convention as an unpublished author. One of the deliberate reasons I attended was to keep my ear to the ground and find a career direction. Throughout the convention, I was struck not just with the strong presence of Ellora’s Cave, but with their authors who seemed to be having the most fun and were optimistic and positive in all the panels and events. Others complained of the difficulties in publishing, specifically the romance market, aside from this group of erotica writers who were so enthusiastic and upbeat about their careers. The difference was noticeable, at least to me.

I attended the conference looking for a genre to write in mainstream romance and left a determined erotica writer—that’s how strong of an impression Ellora’s Cave made on me at that conference and I’m so glad they did. I started writing Beyond Eden with the deliberate intent to create a steamy ménage romance and I ended up creating a beautiful story of true love between three people that is all the more potent for the dark, sexual themes erotic romance gave me the freedom to explore.

And my experience with Ellora’s Cave has been incredible. I can see where the enthusiasm and positivity came from. Everyone I’ve worked with and met with at Ellora’s Cave has made my journey all the more exciting. My editor, Grace Bradley, is the only person I can imagine having trusted with Beyond Eden. She made it the best it could possibly be and I love her for it! If I hadn’t already been in determined to get a book published with Ellora’s, Grace would have totally been a reason to go for it!

Visit Ellora’s Cave to read another excerpt from Kele Moon’s breakout novel Beyond Eden:

http://www.jasminejade.com/p-8612-beyond-eden.aspx

Kele Moon’s website:
http://www.kelemoon.com





Blurb for “Beyond Eden”
Three lifelong friends find themselves tangled in a web of love, pain and dangerous secrets in this erotic Garden of Eden tale.

Tall, dark and handsome Danny Carlow has always gotten whatever he wants except for the two he wants more than anything—his best friends, lovers Paul and Eve. Determined, he waits like a snake in the grass, poised for the right moment to offer them a temptation too delicious to resist.

Artist Eve Everton makes the painful decision to leave behind her true love Paul for the Siren’s call of New York City. Ten years later with her life in shambles, she returns home. When Paul’s waiting arms aren’t available, Eve falls for Danny’s charm and finds herself a willing accomplice in the dangerous games Danny plays.

Former college football star, Paul Mattling is now a successful attorney with a bright future ahead of him. But behind those brilliant blue eyes are secret desires for a taste of the forbidden. Will he play it safe or will he give into Danny and Eve and bite the apple?

Excerpt“You’re gorgeous, Danny Boy.”
“So are you,” Danny whispered, his gaze running over her in a hot, possessive sweep that made her feel as if he was touching her with a look. He stepped closer and Eve was so desperate she arched into him before he touched her. “I’ve wanted you forever—you’re the only woman I ever really wanted, Evie Girl. This feels too good to be true.”
She felt herself get weak, tilting her head to stare at him in disbelief. “Is that true?”
Danny leaned into her, one hand resting against the table, trapping her against the wood. He bent down, capturing her lips again as he pushed her palm against him, forcing her to feel the long, hard outline of his cock through the rough material of his jeans.
Eve could taste his pain then, the longing that came from a lifetime of waiting. She would never figure out how he managed to convey that much love and agony in a simple kiss, but he did. That was all it took for a love she had never expected to burst to life inside her heart, resting beside the blossom that had never wilted for his best friend. Eve was too far gone to ponder the ramifications of what he had done by dividing her heart in two because her body responded to the feel of his cock against the palm of her hand, making her throb for more than what he was giving her.
For the first time in her life, a kiss made her weak in the knees. She would have fallen if Danny’s arm hadn’t wrapped around her, anchoring her to him as his tongue pushed deeper into her mouth, as if knowing it was suddenly his to plunder.
The two of them lacked grace as they fell heavily to their knees on the hardwood floor. Their lips parted when Danny wrenched her shirt over her head. He tossed it aside and then tugged at her unhooked bra, pulling it off easily. Despite her body that was pulsing in need and Danny’s declarations, Eve still felt her nakedness self-consciously, being very aware of how beautiful Danny was and remembering the pristine girls he had dated in high school.
“If you’d been mine, I never would’ve let you go to New York without me,” Danny said in a raspy whisper. “I would have followed you.”
Eve closed her eyes, her heart jolting for a different reason. “Don’t talk about him. Not now, not like this.”
“You still love him,” Danny said knowingly, the pain evident in his voice.
It wasn’t in Eve to deny that, so she leaned into him instead, gripping at his shoulders and dipping her head down to lick at the curve of his neck. She savored the low groan of defeat from Danny as he ran his fingers through her long hair.
“Come here,” Danny said in a silken voice, using his grip on her hair to tilt her head back. Eve found herself looking into dark eyes swirling with lust and something darker, a wild possessiveness that had Eve suddenly thankful she hadn’t admitted she was still hopelessly in love with Paul. She leaned in closer to him impatiently and a smile tugged at his lips in response, making him look almost evil. “Love me or not, I’m going to make you mine.”
Eve shuddered, her eyes drifting closed. “If you say so,” she whispered and then parted her lips in a silent plea for more.

~ Leave Kele a comment for a chance to win a $25 gift certificate to Amazon or Barnes and Noble! The more you comment on the tour, the more chances you have to win!
Tour Dates for Kele Moon

~GOOD LUCK!

Virtual Blog Tour: Kaily Hart's Picture This (Leave A Comment For A Chance to Win A Goody Tower)

Alisha, thanks so much for having me here today!

Experiencing my first sale and seeing my first book published has been a crazy and exciting ride. Some things I’d imagined before hand and they were pretty spot on. Others, I couldn’t have anticipated in my wildest dreams, such as, what it feels like to read a glowing review, to have a reader reach out directly to tell me they loved the book and to have people ask me when the next one will be out! I write to quiet the demanding voices in my head (I’m not really nuts, honest!) and to also provide enjoyment and pleasure and escapism with my words, because that’s what books have meant to me. I write romance because…well, I believe in striving for happiness and what makes us whole. I write hot and steamy romance because I believe important aspects of a developing relationship don’t stop at a closed bedroom door. In fact, those intimate moments can be where we learn the most about the characters and how they’re evolving. I spend a lot of time on developing my characters. I create complete histories for them and flush them out with beliefs, opinions and of course, flaws. To me, it’s what makes them real. Often, most of these details never make it into the book explicitly, but I sure know how any of them will react if put into a given situation! Do I have favorite characters? Nope. That would be like asking me to choose favorites among my children. Each one is different, with different qualities (both good and bad) and they just are who they are, each special and unique. Are my heroines like me in any way? Yes and no. I think they must have something of myself in them because I need to be able to relate to them on some level (just as the reader needs to), but they don’t necessarily physically resemble me or have the any of the same personality traits. Sometimes it’s fun to write someone more daring, more bold, and let’s face it, someone who gets to have more fun! It’s the heroine in romantic fiction the reader is invested with, but I always say it’s the hero’s show in many ways.

There’s often a lot of discussion about what makes a sexy hero in romantic fiction, but what about the heroine? What traits do you think the heroine needs to have or what ones make it difficult for you to relate to her? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

LEAVE A COMMENT FOR A CHANCE TO WIN A GOODY TOWER. THE MORE YOU COMMENT ON KAILY'S TOUR, THE BIGGER YOUR CHANCE OF WINNING. GO TO KAILY'S TOUR DATES HERE!
TOUR DATES


Blurb:
Desperate and young, Jillian Moore did something she knew would one day come back to bite her in the ass. She’d posed nude. For money. Years later, and on the fast track to a successful career, she’s still haunted by her mistake. She can’t help but wonder when her past will catch up with her.

Samuel Steele is not short on female attention, but the women who warm his bed pale in comparison to the fantasy he’s created of the seductive temptress in the painting hanging prominently in his bedroom. A fantasy that has ruined his once satisfying sex life. When he discovers that her exact likeness works in his building—for him—things get…interesting.

Book buy link
Kaily Hart's Website
Kaily's Blog
Kaily's Facebook
Kaily's Twitter

Excerpt:
It’d been sold, again, three months earlier. Private auction, anonymous bidder and there was no way for her to find out who’d bought it. All she knew for sure was that it’d been a man. It figured. Damn, she’d been close this time. Not that she would have been able to afford to make even one bid herself. It had opened at fifteen thousand and after some fast and furious bidding had finally gone for a cool seventy-five thousand—dollars. Jeez, she’d probably be paying off her student loans for another twenty years and some guy had dropped seventy-five grand on a picture?

Virtual Blog Tour: Sex and Subterfuge by Isabel Roman (Leave a Comment for a chance to win Prizes)

Alisha: Please welcome Lucien Harrington, Earl of Granville, Viscount Harrington to my blog today!

Lucien: Sensual Paranormal Romances? My dear Alisha, what a surprise and pleasure to meet you. Thank you for having me here today.

Alisha: You're so very welcome. What’s it like to smuggle fellow magickers to safety?

Lucien: Rewarding. When I was young, we didn’t have this problem, magickers lived as they always have for centuries, discreetly. And then Corwin made his grab for power, using old superstitions and fears to revive the Witch Hunters. Complete with their ridiculous color coded uniforms. We had to move quickly, to get as many out of England as we could.

My friend, Preston, and I smuggling them on our steamships, and I know there are other captains sympathetic to the cause. Where there’s money to be made, there’s someone to take the risk. However, it was never about the money for me, I have plenty of my own. It was about the risk and about doing the right thing for my people.

I have to give it to Preston, though he left England to replenish his family’s fortunes, it wasn’t about the money for him, either. He’s no magicker himself, but he is a great man, one I’m proud to call friend.

Alisha: Most interesting. What did you feel the very first time you met Morgana Blackthorne?

Lucien: Since it’s your blog, Alisha, I’ll tell the uncensored version. The first time I saw her, I wanted her. It was more than simply her striking beauty and her sharp tongue. There was a recognition between us. A knowing twinkle in her eye, the sensual touch of a hand.

Alisha: *Shiver* Do tell. How different is your Druid society from normal British society?

Lucien: That’s a good question. I guess I never really thought about it before. It’s hard to separate the two. I am British and I have been brought up to live within the English society. But the Druidic society, our secret society, can never be brought to the light of day, we can never live openly amongst the world as we once did.

Truly it isn’t all that different. We have rules we abide by and our own cultural understandings. Where it does differ, is that we cherish the opinions of all in our society. We are much more open with our sexuality and our desires for one another before we commit to one. We take marriage very seriously, but until those vows are spoken, we are free to enjoy whom we please.

Alisha: Wow. Give me your honest opinion on Sir John Corwin.

Lucien: He’s a bastard who deserves to die. He’s taken an old superstition and turned it for his own power. He’s not interested in ‘saving’ England, but in becoming the next Prime Minister. Or possibly King-emperor of the world through terror and fear.

I want to remove Sir John Corwin, Head Witch Hunter, from this earth. Not kill him, if it was that simple I’d do it today. No, I fear he’ll become a martyr for his cause if murdered, but I want him disgraced, embarrassed, plucked from this world as if he never existed.

Alisha: I can tell you don't like him very much. Morgana is magickally stronger than you, any thoughts on that?

Lucien: It’s extremely enticing. I’ll leave it at that, I am a gentleman after all.
Thank you, dear Alisha, for having me today. It’s been lovely being here. I do hope to see you again.

Alisha: It has been a pleasure to have you. Come back anytime! :)



Read Lucien’s story in Dark Desires of the Druids: Sex & Subterfuge available now in bookstores! And be sure to check out Isabel’s free Dark Desires of the Druids: Choose Your Own Adventure story!

Blurb:
A master magicker, Morgana Blackthorne has a tenuous hold on her following. When a strange Englishman arrives on her doorstep with news of other druidic magickers, and magicker problems, she’s intrigued but suspicious. There hasn’t been contact between the American and European druids in over a hundred years. Plus she has her own worries and doesn’t need the handsome earl adding to them.
Lucien, Earl of Granville, left England to seek out the Blackthorne Druid line and discover what they’ve been up to since contact was lost. Once he and Morgana meet, their mutual attraction distracts him from his purpose. Embroiled in her problems, he finds himself more concerned with her welfare than is practical for a passing affair.

When I invited you into my bed, it never occurred to me I wouldn’t want you to leave.

There are darker forces at work and the hunger of a weak magicker desperate for power. Will Lucien convince Morgana of his true feelings before things spiral out of control? Or will the surrounding subterfuge tear them apart?

Sexcerpt:

“Lucien Harrington,” Jacobs, her butler, intoned, “the Earl of Granville.”
Smiling, Morgana swept out of the circle, stepping into the foyer, and greeted her guest. His timing was off, but as the magicker she knew him to be, not suspect.
“Welcome, Lord Granville,” she said, offering a slight curtsy.
He was tall, with dark blond hair, dark blue eyes, and a sharp nose over which he looked down at her. Her eyes traveled over his face, down his body, clothed in immaculately tailored Savile Row, back to his face. Arousal pooled hot in her belly.
She’d never wanted any man. Yet Morgana wanted Lord Granville. Her skin prickled at his nearness, her womb clenched with want.
Forcing her mind off his body, she studied his face. Briefly, want flashed in his eyes and she smiled a truly wicked smile at him. It was gone as fast as it’d shone and she returned to studying him. There was grief hidden deep in his eyes, along with suspicion and weariness. Tilting her head, she wondered what caused those emotions. Suspicion she could easily understand. It’d been more than a hundred and thirty years since their families had any contact. Though, since he’d sought her out, she should be more suspicious of him.
“Mistress Blackthorne,” he bowed over her offered hand. Flicking a glance behind her, he said, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Not at all,” Morgana smiled. She could all but feel David’s displeasure. Suppressing a giddy smile, she took Lord Granville’s arm and led him into the parlor. “We’re about to begin the New Moon Ritual. Do you still practice it in England?”
Looking up at him with guileless eyes, she waited for his confusion, gratified when it sparked briefly in those bottomless depths. Damn them all. She could be as gracious as she liked, but in the end, resentment bubbled to the surface. They’d abandoned her ancestors to indentured servitude and hadn’t bothered to contact any of them since.
“I’m afraid we lost that custom when we lost the valuable Blackthorne line.”
Morgana raised her eyebrow at him as they entered the parlor. Wasn’t he the diplomat?
“Would you care to join the ritual, Lord Granville?”
He bowed again and smiled. “It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Blackthorne.”

Alisha: Since I know you’re begging for more, here’s another teaser.

Sexcerpt 2:[After Lucien and Morgana return from intimidating a French smuggler into handing over a case of dangerous and illegal venom used in making potions.]

“I need to speak with him,” Morgana said. “I’ll send him along later.”
James’s eyes narrowed at her, but he nodded. Even in company he barely tolerated, he’d never question her. Especially in company he barely tolerated.
Lucien watched her with a quizzical expression and she smiled. The parlor door closed silently behind her. They wouldn’t be interrupted by servants. Now was the time.
“Since we met,” she said confidently and closed the distance between them. “I’ve been attracted to you.”
He nodded, caressing her cheek with the knuckles of one hand. “I’ve felt the same way.”
“Good,” she whispered, voice husky, lips a breath from his. “Come upstairs with me.”
Lucien tried to recall a time when a woman was bold enough to seduce him, and could not. Morgana was different from his previous lovers and far, far more daring. His entire being was focused on her, on her body. Thoughts of their night, the venom, and André’s mysterious buyer swept from his head the instant she kissed him.
Now, both half naked, his lips trailed down her thigh, over her knee, to her delicate ankle. Up the other leg, over the delicate swell of her hip. He looked at her in the dimness of the room. And in the shifting shadows, her eyes were a deep recess that drew Lucien in and captured him. In those interminable minutes before their lips touched again, he felt himself drowning in her; her taste, her scent, her very essence.
Their lips touched softly, gently at first.
Flesh on flesh. Then she opened her mouth under his and drew him in. He watched her eyes flutter shut as she gave herself over and he pulled her closer, determined to have all of her this night.
Tiny, invisible tendrils wound around them, drawing them to each other, into each other and together they crossed that final barrier. He felt her hands move up his sides, over his shoulders to caress his neck, only to wind themselves around and pull him even closer, molding her body to his – perfectly.
Lucien thought he knew what it was to give into lust. To know that rush, and revel in it for as long as it lasted. Thought he’d experienced everything there was to experience when it came to matters of the flesh. As her hands tugged off his shirt, slowly roaming the bare flesh underneath, he discovered he was wrong.
Morgana sighed his name. “Lucien.”

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Happy Reading!
~Alisha