Gabrielle Bisset

Monday, April 30, 2012

Week 2 of the Blood Avenged Tour

It's Monday again. Where do those two days of the weekend go?  I swear Monday and Tuesday don't go by so quickly. :)  Well, as far as Mondays go, it's a good one. I'm out on Blood Avenged's tour again this week, and I'm thrilled with all the great comments and questions I've been getting at each tour stop. 

I'm at Delighted Reader Book Reviews today talking about the men of the Sons of Navarus.  If you've read Blood Avenged, you know all about Vasilije (or at least as much as he's decided to let you know--he can be diabolical at times), but coming up in just a few weeks is Saint, a man as different from Vasilije as night is from day. Variety is the spice of life, isn't it? And then there's Terek, the former monk turned vampire. He possesses both the angel and devil in him. ;) I hope you'll come by Delighted Reader and say hi!

Remember that each stop will have one winner of a swag pack of Sons of Navarus bookmarks from the first three books, and one commenter from the entire tour will win a $10 Amazon gift card, so the more you comment, the better your chance of winning.

Have a great Monday!  Keep in mind, it's only as long as a Saturday. :)

Friday, April 27, 2012

#Paranormalromance Friday

Well, it's Friday again, but not just any Friday.  Today is the last day of classes for me for the spring semester. :D  Sweeeeeeeeeeeet! In addition, I'm in the middle of a great book tour with Goddess Fish Promotions for Blood Avenged.  For those of you who missed the first couple dates, here are the links.  I've been chatting about everything from Vasilije and writing sex scenes to Saint and the rest of the Sons of Navarus. 

The Forbidden Bookshelf (interview and giveaway)
Romancing The Book (interview and contest)
The ParaNormal Romance Party (guest post and giveaway)
BVS Readers Blog (guest post and giveaway)
Dawn's Reading Nook (interview and giveaway)

And today I'm at Cocktails and Books talking about how important Greek mythology is to the Sons of Navarus series.  Stop over and leave a comment!  Remember that one randomly chosen commenter from the tour will win a $10 Amazon gift card, and one commenter at each tour stop will win a swag pack of signed bookmarks from the first three books in the Sons series--Blood Avenged, Blood Betrayed, and Blood Spirit. 

Speaking of the second and third books, edits are complete on Blood Betrayed, so now formatting and the nuts and bolts stuff begins.  We're less than a month away from its release, so the clock is ticking. And writing continues on Blood Spirit, which is scheduled for a fall release. For a little taste of what the book's hero, Terek, is like, I put this pic up on FB and Pinterest the other day.  Terek would have a bit more hair, but the vibe is all him--serious, smoldering...and the cross is perfect for him. ;)

And, finally, Book #4, Ramiel's book, is beginning to take shape with some back story on him.  Right now, he's looking like he was turned in the later years of the Roman Empire, a Visigoth warrior in a world that was coming apart at the seams.  For the most violent of the Sons, this seems like a perfect beginning.  Tentatively titled Blood Prophecy, Book #4 in the Sons series will be a big one.  Keep an eye out for updates!

Have a great weekend! 

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Author T.C. Archer Guest Post

While I'm out on Blood Avenged's book tour at TWO stops today--Black Velvet Seduction Blog and Dawn's Reading Nook--I'm giving the floor to T.C. Archer.  Welcome!

Hi, Gabrielle, thanks so much for having us on your blog! We’re here to talk about the first book in our Phenom League series. These alternate history/paranormal romances are set during WWII. The League, a group of humans and nonhumans who worked behind the scenes during the war, knew that Hitler threatened more than just world domination. He threatened the very essence of what they were.  

Chain Reaction is the first in the Phenom League series. Our hero, former Chicago Police Detective Jordan Pierce, is a newly made vampire who is head of night shift security for the secret government lab at Chicago University. The race to beat the Germans to the first nuclear reaction is in full swing when Jordan discovers that the woman who stirs what’s left of his humanity is a spy.

Then he discovers that something is stalking her.

I put my hat back on my head, tugged the brim low over my eyes, and scooted along the alley behind the Five and Dime and Jimmie's Drugstore across the street. I stopped and peered between them until I saw Gladys through the window of the automat's glass façade. She sidled along the bank of doors, inspecting the compartment contents. During lunch and dinner, three or four women worked, stuffing portions into empty compartments. At eleven o'clock at night, a lone woman in a blue and white waitress uniform worked behind the little glass and chrome doors.
A car passed as Gladys reached the end. She retraced her steps, running a finger along the doorframes. Halfway down, she stopped, pulled a dime from her purse, and dropped the coin into the slot of an empty compartment. Why had she paid for nothing? As she opened the door, a blonde woman in uniform I hadn't seen earlier stepped up and slid a plate of toast into the cubby. How had Gladys known the waitress would put toast in that empty cubby? She couldn't know, I realized, and jerked my gaze to the waitress. I glimpsed slim shoulders and blond hair in a hairnet as she headed toward the rear of the restaurant.
I cursed and looked back at Gladys. She had withdrawn the toast, yet remained facing the wall. I tensed. Half a dozen heartbeats passed then she shifted and I caught sight of a piece of paper she slipped into her purse before turning and walking toward the tables. There it was. Two spies passing notes.
I watched Gladys slide into a seat near the front window, anger so hot in me I could feel my blood warm. She had to eat the damned toast—good spies played their part—so I had a few minutes. I glanced both ways on the street and skittered across toward the alleyway between the automat and a movie theatre next door.
Once in the shadows, I sprinted to the rear of the automat and discovered the back door had no exterior knob. I couldn't break down the door without alerting everyone inside and if I entered through the front door and demanded to see the waitress I would blow my cover to Gladys. I would wait. Spies at the waitress's level were nothing more than couriers. If I barged in and tipped my hand now, we gained nothing. If I got a look at the note before making any overt moves I might get an edge. I slinked back to the street in time to see Gladys leave. She turned right, toward me and back to campus. I pressed deeper into shadow as the sound of her high heels on concrete grew closer.
I fought the primal urge to taste her blood even as my mind conjured up the involuntary picture of my hands seizing her shoulders and pulling her into the darkness. I could almost taste the salt on her skin, and my mouth watered to savor her tender neck. I hardened with the need to press her body against mine. She was a spy, a traitor to her own people, less human than me. Take her, my lust urged. As when I had been taken, no one would know who attacked her. A growl started deep in my chest.
I staggered back a pace. What had happened to me? I wasn't like the disease-ridden she-creature who had taken me. I was no rapist, no stealer of humanity. I was a police officer, sworn to uphold the law. I froze as Gladys passed along the sidewalk without glancing my way, and kept my gaze glued on her. She was a spy, yet she couldn't be more than just a link. A man, a brutal murderer, was my quarry.
Jealousy shot through me. Could the killer be her lover and the automat worker their go-between? The idea of another man's hands touching Gladys, bringing her pleasure, seared me to the core. My incisors sharpened. Leaning from the shadows, I watched her cross the street. I had to put a stop to the way she made me feel.
I froze at the sight of a lighter shadow materializing between buildings a couple of stores down from me, then skittering across the street behind Gladys. In the last eight months, my eyes had become so sensitive to darkness I could discern things the average human couldn't. Yet, the shadow was how I would appear to anyone watching me when I moved in fast motion. Blood pounded so hard through my veins, I could feel the beat in my toes. Who else but the she-creature who had infected me could move so fast? Fear tightened my chest. Why was she following Gladys?
I shot forward at top speed, crossing the street and coming to a halt behind the nearest tree along the walkway in bare seconds. Fifty yards ahead, Gladys walked at a clipped pace. I scanned the shadows off the lit walkway, between shops.
Movement registered in the corner of my eye and I jerked my attention left as a blurred shadow zipped from behind a tree thirty feet from me. I squinted, concentrating on the shadow before it melted into the deeper shadows paralleling the walkway, and discerned nothing more than a female-like form.
Why couldn't I better discern her shape? Anyone with my super-human eyesight could distinguish my figure when moving at such speed. A chill swept through me. I couldn't see her because she moved much faster than me.
Were the she-creature's skills greater than mine because the disease had infected her longer? Was this what I had to look forward to if I didn't find a cure? What other abilities did she possess? What the hell did I care if this disease could provide the secrets to the universe? The price of becoming nonhuman was too great.
I shot forward, adrenaline pumping my legs faster than I thought possible. I concentrated my vision in an effort to separate the darkness from the subtle shadow difference of my prey. Black upon black blurred between two more trees thirty feet ahead. I glanced at Gladys. She was sixty feet ahead and hadn't seen us yet. I took a deep breath and nearly flew the thirty feet to where I anticipated the shadow's next location. Taking the last few feet in a leap, I landed in her path.
She slammed into me. My arms closed around shoulders and arms. She grunted and a whoomph of air gushed from her. I felt ample breasts being crushed under my arms, breasts bigger than I remembered. Shock immobilized me and my grip loosened. We tumbled down six or seven steps to a below-street-level entrance to a pawnshop. She wasn't the creature. A hard elbow slammed my ribs. I wheezed in pain, grappled for her arm, but she twisted, and had my arm pinned behind my back. I had the strength of four men, but struggled to no avail. Was this woman yet another creature like me? Did she have my strength? How many were there? It was a damn invasion.
She shoved me from her and lunged up the stairs. I swung my legs beneath her. She tripped, landed on her hands and feet like a cat on the sidewalk. I leaped up after her, but she disappeared in a blur, drawing fallen leaves along her path. I looked to the right at Gladys, who clutched her handbag tighter and continued on her way at a faster clip. Then I looked back in the direction where leaves settled back onto the ground along the path the creature had fled. A tiny shadow moved south at high speed, and I raced after the apparition. Two minutes later, I stood on the south side of the campus, breathing heavy, with no sign of the woman.

Former Chicago Detective Jordan Pierce put his life on hold in order to protect America’s secret weapon against the Nazis, The Manhattan Project. But he can’t protect himself as his humanity is eaten away by a mysterious disease that destroys him, while at the same time makes him more powerful than any man he’s ever known. Jordan finds out how much the disease has devoured his soul when he falls in love with the woman who might destroy America and tear apart his last shred of humanity.

T. C. Archer is comprised of award winning authors Evan Trevane and Shawn M. Casey. They write paranormal and sci-fi romance, and romantic suspense, and are published by Loose ID, Silver Publishing, and Etopia Press.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

4 Stars For Blood Avenged at RT

Blood Avenged's book tour continues at The ParaNormal Romance Party, a perfect place to be today since I found out yesterday that Romantic Times reviewed Blood Avenged and gave it four stars! Here's the review:

Bisset introduces the Sons of Navarus and sets up a sequel in her take on the vampire legend. Dark, mysterious and sometimes violent, this sexy tale uses New Orleans and a taste of voodoo as a backdrop. It will capture your imagination from the first paragraph.

Summary - When ancient vampire Vasilije turns Alex, he's unaware he's unlocking a 400-year-old wound. Alex is connected to an evil vampire who staked Vasilije's sire, Tatiana, who hatches a plot to eliminate Vasilije as well. Sasa, an empath whose mother is dying, makes a deal with Tatiana to save her life in exchange for spying on Vasilije. Neither of them bargains for Sasa falling in love with Vasilije. Powers at work behind the scenes could destroy them all.

Donna M. Brown

The takeaway line for me is "It will capture your imagination from the first paragraph."  Love that!  As an author, if you can make the reader interested from the first paragraph, you're doing something right.

While the 4 star review is very nice, what pleases me most is that this may introduce Blood Avenged and the Sons of Navarus series to a wider audience that I haven't reached as of yet.  That puts a huge smile on my face.

I hope you'll stop over at The ParaNormal Romance Party, where I'm chatting about the writing process.  (I swear it's more interesting than it sounds.) And feel free to ask me some questions about the book and the series...and those delicious vampire males. Hope to see you there!

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Author Cassandra Carr Guest Post

Welcome to author Cassandra Carr! 

These boots were made for walkin'
by Cassandra Carr

In my recent release, Collision, my intrepid heroine, a professional figure skater, is tapped to do a cross-promotional tour with the bull riding tour. She is, shall we say, not much of a cowgirl, preferring Versace to Wranglers, but my charming hero manages to convince her she'll feel more comfortable on tour if she's dressed similarly to everyone else.

They go to a western store and Leah finds a pair of cowboy boots that she absolutely adores.

Brady laughs at her, telling her they're not "real" cowboy boots, but she counters that she's not a real cowboy and should be able to get what she wants. I have to tell you, it was a lot of fun finding that pair of boots online so I could describe them in the story. Leah's clothes were a lot of fun to discover- not many of my heroines hang out in La Perla lingerie and carry around Louis Vuitton luggage.

When Leah insists on getting them, Brady sighs, but warns her she should find another pair that are a little more...staid. So she finds this pair.

I really could've gone on and on about Leah's clothes, but I'm known for economy of words and I figured several multi-page descriptions of her outfits were out of the question. But I had a ton of fun "shopping" for her!

Do you ever wonder what an article of clothing looks like when you see it described in a book? Have you ever gone out and tried to find something similar?

Blurb for Collision:

Olympic Gold medal-winning figure skater Leah Fitzpatrick, dubbed “The Ice Queen”, is on the down slope of her career when she finds herself roped into a joint promo gig on the professional bull riders’ tour. She’s paired with “The King of Rodeo”, Brady Parrish, and although his looks could stop traffic, she’s got a future to worry about that doesn’t leave room for knocking boots with the sexy bull rider. No matter how hot he is.

Brady is living the good life. He’s at the top of his profession, and has no idea something is missing until the cool Leah is thrust into his life. But he sees something in her that hints at an underlying fire, and sets out to prove her nickname wrong. In the midst of their steamy affair, he falls hard. Blindsided by the potent combination of beauty and vulnerability Leah displays, Brady is determined to melt “The Ice Queen’s” heart.

Excerpt for Collision:

“Can I help you with something, darlin’? Need a hand back there?” Then he turned on the full force of his smile and she cursed her weak knees. As soon as she was able to recover, she berated herself. Here she was, a grown woman, practically falling at the feet of this cowboy who was so not her type.

“No,” she bit out, but then rolled her eyes and relented. “Well, yes. I need someone to help me into my dress.”

He winked and the phrase “bad boy” flashed through her brain. Yeah, this Brady was no Boy Scout. “Helping women into their dresses isn’t my specialty, but I’ll give it a shot. You must be Leah.”

She held up a hand to shake his, but snatched it back when the dress began to fall, briefly revealing the side of her breast before she was able to conceal it once more. “Yes, I’m Leah. And I need the wardrobe assistant’s help. She’s over there, brushing off some chaps from what it looks like, if you can believe it.”

Brady laughed. “Yeah, I wore them last night, they’re probably pretty dusty.”

Leah’s mouth fell open. She’d been making a joke about the chaps, hoping Brady would agree with her about the apparent cheese factor. “You wore them? In public?”

“Yes ma’am. But I’d be happy to oblige you if you need help—”

“No! Just get Sandy,” she commanded, adding, “Please,” when he didn’t move immediately.

Giving her another smile, as well as a smoldering look that had her nipples tightening and her thighs clenching involuntarily, he loped away. Sandy came to zip up her dress and then her hair and makeup were done. She was wearing twice as much makeup as she usually did, which was saying something, considering by necessity she wore entire vats of it to perform. Not only that, but the makeup they used were colors she thought were better suited to a burlesque dancer than a figure skater, but she was so eager to get the show on the road she sat there and let them do whatever they wanted without protest.

Through it all, she watched as other assistants fussed over Brady, helping him dress in his chaps, which she was quite sure he was perfectly capable of putting on himself, and smoothing their hands over his Western-style shirt on the ridiculous premise of making sure it wasn’t wrinkled. All the while Brady smiled and laughed and flirted, and Leah fumed. He was acting totally unprofessionally, like a country bumpkin on his first trip to the big city. And of course the girls were eating it up. It was disgusting to watch, and yet Leah couldn’t take her eyes off him. She didn’t stop to consider why it bothered her so much.

When they were both ready, David brought them together. “All right, now we’re going to take a whole bunch of pictures. All you two have to do is stand there and look good. We’re gonna play off your nicknames. Leah, did you know Brady’s is ‘the Rodeo King’? Isn’t that perfect?”

“Perfect,” Leah grumbled, not happy they were going to use her dreaded nickname.

As they were being positioned, Brady spoke to her out of the side of his mouth. “Come on, sweetheart. This whole thing’ll be a lot more fun if you loosen up a little.”

“I’m plenty loose,” she ground out between clenched teeth.

“You’re about as loose as a calf I’m tying up on the ranch.” He paused and then gave her another long, thorough perusal. “Though I like tying up women a lot more.” Despite the heat that flooded her in parts she’d rather not think about at the moment, she managed to throw him another glare which he laughed off. Did he take nothing seriously? Her career was hanging in the balance and he acted as if he didn’t have a care in the world. It would be nice if she wasn’t the only one with a stake in this.

Turning away from him, she concentrated on the cameraman. Through the next few hours, she simply shut down and gave them whatever they wanted, put on each ugly skating dress without complaint, even while knowing the pictures were only going to give more fuel to those who hated her for whatever reason. She posed however they put her, and smiled through it all. Brady continued to laugh and joke with the crew as if this was the most fun he’d had in months.

The cameraman gave them a break while he checked the pictures he’d taken thus far, and Leah took the opportunity to eat a sandwich and guzzle down a bottle of water. When the cameraman called them back, he said, “All right. We’ve got some good pictures so far, but I’d like to sex things up a little.”

“Sex things up?” Leah echoed.

“Yeah. Both of you are young and good-looking, let’s play that up. Now, Leah, if you could turn toward Brady. Great. Put your left arm around his waist and your right hand on his chest.” Rolling her eyes, Leah complied. As soon as her hand made contact with his muscular pecs it started to tingle and her breath caught. Luckily Brady was listening to the photographer and didn’t seem to notice her sudden discomfiture.

“Brady, put your right arm around her shoulders and stick the thumb of your left hand in the belt loop of your jeans. Pull them down just a little. Perfect.” He took a few shots that way and then cocked his head as Leah fought to get her breathing under control. No man had ever caused a pure visceral reaction in her like Brady did, and she was stumped about what seemed to draw her to him like bees to honey. “Brady, would you mind unbuttoning your shirt?”

Brady grinned and Leah snorted, trying her damndest to cover her still-increasing respiratory rate. Of course he didn’t mind. The women on the crew were already drooling and falling all over themselves—including her, much to her own chagrin. When he began to unbutton his shirt and finally separated the two plackets, pulling the shirt out of his jeans as he did so, it was all she could do to keep her own mouth closed. The man’s chest was mouthwatering, sprinkled with the same dark-blond hair that was on his head. His well-developed pecs led down to six-pack abs, where another trail of hair led to…

Brady cleared his throat and Leah’s head snapped up. “Excuse me?”

“The photographer is talking to you.” Brady was smirking and she had a crazy notion to shock him by kissing that expression right off his face. Instead, with her cheeks flaming she turned to the cameraman.


“I want you in the same position as before, but,” he walked up and shoved her hand underneath Brady’s shirt, “put your hand here.” Leah’s stomach dropped as her fingers came into contact with the coarse hair and smooth skin of Brady’s chest. “Brady, lower your right arm and put your hand on Leah’s hip. Pull her into you. That’s good, very sexy.”

Her gaze flew up to Brady’s face. His brown eyes had darkened with heat. Forcing her eyes away, she concentrated on the photographer and tried to ignore how warm and hard his body felt against hers.

A few moments later Brady leaned down and whispered into her ear, his own breathing hitching, “Darlin’, if you don’t stop petting me we’re gonna have a mighty interesting situation that I don’t think any amount of airbrushing can disguise.”

Copyright 2012, Cassandra Carr

Buy links for Collision:

My bio:

Cassandra Carr is a multi-published, award-winning erotic romance writer with Ellora's Cave, Siren, and Loose Id who lives in Western New York with her husband, Inspiration, and her daughter, Too Cute for Words. When not writing she enjoys watching hockey and hanging out on Twitter. Cassandra's book Caught was recently named Best BDSM Book 2011 by LoveRomancesCafe.

For more information about Cassandra, check out her website at, "like" her Facebook fan page at or follow her on Twitter at

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Spring Fling Fun

Welcome to the Spring Fling Blog Hop hosted by Selena Blake, Reading Between The Wines, and Bitten By Paranormal Romance. Spring is one of my favorite times of year. I love it almost as much as summer. Spring is the perfect time for romance, so what better thing to do than celebrate with a giveaway of some romance books? Here at my blog I'm giving away a signed paperback copy of my Victorian Erotic Romance Trilogy.

The three novellas of the Trilogy are sexy and sensual--exactly what a romance reader would like on those nights when the weather is getting warm and the scent of honeysuckle is hanging heavy in the air.  Vampire Dreams, Love's Master, and Masquerade are the three novellas of the Trilogy, and each one offers the reader a different taste of the erotic Victorian Period. Visit the Victorian Erotic Romance Trilogy page here on my blog for an excerpt from each.

So what do you have to do to be eligible to win? The only mandatory entry is to leave a comment below with your email address (so I can contact you if you win). But I'd love it if you'd do the extra entries in the Rafflecopter thing, especially liking the Sons of Navarus page on Facebook and subscribing to my newsletter (I promise it's only once a month, and I sometimes do newsletter only giveaways).

The giveaway is open internationally, so an email gets you in. The winner will be chosen by random after the giveaway ends and will be notified by email. And if you already liked the Sons of Navarus FB page, follow me on Twitter, and/or subscribe to my newsletter, just let me know so I can count those entries for you. :)

Friday, April 20, 2012

#ParanormalRomance Friday

The end of the week is here, and I can even see the end of the month coming, but first there are some fun things happening before we get to the month of May.  Blood Avenged's book tour with Goddess Fish begins on Monday, and take a look at all these fantastic blogs I'll be visiting:

April 23: The Forbidden Bookshelf
April 24: Romancing the Book
April 25: The ParaNormal Romance Party
April 26: Black Velvet Seductions Blog
April 26: STOP #2 Dawn's Reading Nook
April 27: Cocktails and Books
April 30: Words of Wisdom from The Scarf Princess
April 30: Delighted Reader Book Reviews
May 1: Kacey's Konnections
May 2: Ramblings From This Chick
May 3: Erotica for All
May 3: STOP #2 For The Love of Reading
May 4: Reading Romances

I'm thrilled all these wonderful bloggers are giving me time at their blogs to chat about Blood Avenged, my Sons of Navarus series, and of course, Vasilije. I hope you'll stop by each day for all the interesting tidbits and giveaways.

And on Monday, April 23, in addition to the tour I'm participating in the Spring Fling Giveaway Hop.  Love is in the air, so what's better than a giveaway of some erotic love?  Be sure to stop back for that!

Blood Betrayed's edits are almost complete, so I'll begin posting excerpts soon, along with sending out emails to all the sites that have agreed to review the book. I've loved hanging out with Saint, Solenne, Vasilije, Sasa, and all the Sons of Navarus in this second book.  (Yes, Vasilije appears prominently in this book too.)  I've been writing Blood Spirit, and Terek's story has been wonderful fun.  I enjoy these characters a great deal, so writing their stories is a joy for me.  However, the reality of what's to come always lingers on the horizon. Nothing's written in stone, but a battle is coming and the Sons will need everything they possess to triumph over the Archons. 

But not all will make it to the end...

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Musical Inspiration As I Edit Blood Betrayed

As I've been editing Saint and Solenne's story, this Rod Stewart song has been playing in my head over and over.  I love the emotion in this song. The idea of not wanting to love someone when you can't help yourself is one I love, but I can tell you that writing a character who is so tormented by what he feels can be incredibly draining. The payoff, though, is when your betas and editor tell you that they weren't sure you could top Vasilije, but somehow you made a character so different from him just as wonderful.  I love Saint as much as Vasilije, maybe even more because he's a tortured soul, so to hear those words makes me beam with happiness.  So for a sense of what my hero is feeling in Blood Betrayed, here's Rod singing about love that tears you up inside and still you can't let it go.

My Heart Can't Tell You No

I don't want you
To come round here no more
I beg you for mercy
You don't know how strong
My weakness is
Or how much it hurts me
Cause when you said it over with him
I want to believe it's true
So I let you in knowing tomorrow
I'm gonna wake up missing you
Wake up missing you

When the one you love's
In love with someone else
Don't you know it's torture
I mean it's a living hell
No matter how I try to convince myself
This time I won't lose control
One look in your blue eyes
And suddenly my heart can't tell you no

I don't want you
To call me up no more
Saying you need me
You're crazy if you think
Just half your love
Could ever please me
Still I want to hold you, touch you
When you look at me that way
There's only one solution I know
You gotta stay away from me
Stay away from me

When the one you love's
In love with someone else
Don't you know it's torture
I mean it's a living hell
No matter how I try to convince myself
This time I won't lose control
One look in your sad eyes
And suddenly my heart can't tell you no
My heart can't tell you no

I don't want you
To come round here no more
I beg you for mercy
You don't know how strong
My weakness is
Or how much it hurts me
Cause when you say it's over with him
I want to believe it's true
So I let you in knowing tomorrow
I'm gonna wake up missing you
Wake up missing you

When the one you love's
In love with someone else
Don't you know it's torture
I mean it's a living hell, a living hell
When the one you love's
In love with someone else
Don't you know it's torture
I mean it's a living hell, a living hell
(Simon Climie/Dennis Morgan)

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Author Carrie Ann Ryan Guest Post

I'm happy to welcome to my blog today author Carrie Ann Ryan. Settle back and read a little about her new release, Trinity Bound, and the idea of two men.  Hmmmm...

Sexy Men – Two is Better

            Okay, two is better for Trinity Bound anyway. I love sexy men. You know you do as well. I love watching fans of my series and other series on fall for the male heroes. I love watching them wish they were the heroines. To me, that’s sometimes one of the best parts of write romance stories.
            The Men.
            Yes, it’s a bit sexist if you think about it…but I’m okay with that. I mean, the women are hot as well. But I’m here to talk about Trinity Bound with Reed and Josh.
            You see? My book has two men. Two men to get to know, fall in love with…and want.
            The fun with having two men *cough* I mean…two men to write about, is that you can mix and match them. I have the sensitive, yet I’m-a-werewolf-and-can-kill-you-with-my-bare-hands artist, Reed. And I have the military man who is more lonely then he though in Josh.
            You see? How fun is that? LOL
            Hannah is one lucky witch. She gets to sleep between two men who love her and each other. They protect and care for her, but also know she can take care of herself.
            I love writing about their looks, their personalities, the way they make me swoon. Yep. I’m loving writing ménages. Even though not all my books are ménages…it’s still fun to *cough* experiment!
            What would you do with two men? LOL Here’s a picture of what I know some would do!!

Trinity Bound Blurb

Hannah Lewis, a rare earth witch, is taken from the only life she’s ever known. Held at her will by a sadistic wolf, she almost gives up hope that she’d ever see her real life again. But as her fellow captive, a werewolf named Reed, tries to calm her fears, she begins to feel a spark of something she never thought she’d feel – love. But is Reed, alone, enough to get her out of this dark basement so she can move on with her life?
Reed Jamenson, the artist of a werewolf Pack of Alpha males, knows instinctually that Hannah is his mate. Thus, despite their imprisonment, he will do all to protect her and then worry about their hearts. But is he strong enough to find a way for both of them to escape? And why does he feel as though something else is missing?
Josh Kolb, an ex-military human, stumbles upon Reed and Hannah and finds he must trust this new world of supernatural beings to survive. But that desire will lead the three to a triangle of attraction that will test the boundaries they all possess and its consequences in defeating the enemy. Can they all trust one another to save themselves and life as they know it? Even at the cost of their own hearts?

Snowflakes stuck to Josh’s eyelashes and he bat them away. A strong gust blew past him, the cold chilling his bones. He surveyed his surroundings, taking a silent step through the undergrowth. Tall trees reached to the sky, blocking whatever sunlight filtered through the dreary storm clouds. Their limbs heavy with leaves and the extra weight of collecting snow drooped down, dropping snow bundles on his shoulder and in one unfortunate incident, his face. If only he could have Found these two in the nice spring or cool fall months. No, he had to search for them in the onset of winter and the beginning of what looked to be a deadly snow storm. Lucky guy.
When he left his bench on Main Street, he had quickly gone home to fetch some of his equipment. He dressed warmer, grabbed a pack with extra clothes for Reed and the witch, some food and water, and weapons. Lots of weapons. Knifes and blades of various shapes and sizes adorned his body. He had his SIG strapped to his side, with extra ammo in his belt. Sadly he didn’t have any silver, but lead would at least slow the beasts down if they came after him.
And they would. Because as he followed the trail in his mind to this remote bunker, his sense of unease swelled to a staggering sensation. Crap, he might not make it this time. He was but one man. One human at that. But looking down at the lair that held two people that he needed to find, he set aside those worries and the creeps it gave off. The two of them were more important – for some unknown reason. And if anyone truly knew him, they would know that it was freaking hard to give Josh the creeps. But he ignored those chills as well.

Carrie Ann Ryan is a bestselling paranormal and contemporary romance author. After spending too much time behind a lab bench, she decided to dive into the romance world and find her werewolf mate - even if its just in her books. Happy endings are always near - even if you have to get over the challenges of falling in love first.
Her first book, An Alpha's Path, is the first in her Redwood Pack series. She's also an avid reader and lover of romance and fiction novels. She loves meeting new authors and new worlds. Any recommendations you have are appreciated. Carrie Ann lives in New England with her husband and two kittens.
Carrie Ann loves hearing from readers. You can find her at:

Twitter: @CarrieAnnRyan

An Alpha’s Path

A Taste for a Mate

Trinity Bound

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Author Julie Eberhart Painter Guest Post

Today I welcome author Julie Eberhart Painter to the blog. Take it away, Julie!

Writing outside the box: method or madness…by Julie Eberhart Painter

Editors and agents frequently ask what makes this book or story different? Why should we invest time and money in seeing it to print?

The benchmark has to be that the story is either a familiar theme told from a unique perspective, or it’s really off the wall, another reason for instant appeal or instant rejection. Despite the outside the box style, it must make sense to readers.

Several examples come to mind. One is a new TV show called Awake. This is a story centered on complicated grief, something I saw in bereavement groups when I volunteered as a counselor’s co-facilitator with hospice. I’ve used the grieving theme in several of my books, especially Mortal Coil. The main character and her daughter have lost Tom, husband and father.

In Awake, when guilt is mixed with extreme loss, the grieving can produce an extrasensory reaction like the one being portrayed in the TV series. The man who suffers the loss of either his wife or his son sees two psychiatrists. Each is trying to sort out why he is living—either asleep or awake—two lives, one with his wife and one with his son. It's obvious he is grieving and in dramatic denial, perhaps having lost both. By keeping them both alive, but mourning one and then other, he honors them both.

Another story with an unusual perspective is the novel, Turn of Mind, by Alice LaPlante, who wrote the entire book from the point of view of Jennifer, an Alzheimer’s patient who may or may not have murdered her best friend. One reviewer called it a diary of a disease. It’s also a murder mystery. The mystery is the linear backstory while the rest shows the fragmented and confused thoughts of the patient as she sinks deeper into dementia still trying to remember what happened the night her best friend died.

The Lovely Bones and The Sixth Sense movies are two other examples of unique formatting and unusual points of view.

When choosing a way to tell any story, it must come from the most visceral place, the heart of the character with the most to lose. If the authors mentioned above had chosen an outside narrator, the stories would have been reduced to journalism.

Using the material from research as a linear back story, the writer should put his or herself into the main characters’ heads, starting with their first awareness that something is off. Writers need passion and patience to wander through an experience as if never having seen it or felt it before. That sense of marvel brings the story to life. It's the feelings that sell a story.

LaPlante's book, Turn of Mind, is totally un-linear except for carrying the plot time line by using the female detective’s unannounced visits to search out the truth. Could a woman with advanced Alzheimer’s have murdered her best friend? Now that’s off the wall and out of the box.

Julie Eberhart Painter is the author of seven books. Her include Mortal Coil, Tangled Web and the CTRR award-winning Kill Fee, which is one of five nominations for best book and best author from the publisher. See more on Read her flash fiction on , Eight stories listed there. Julie’s articles and stories appear quarterly at!issue-11

Monday, April 16, 2012

Loving The Hunky Hero

Welcome to this stop on the Hunky Hero Giveaway Hop!  Thanks for stopping by!  And thanks to the fabulous bloggers at Riverina Romantics for hosting this great hop. I do love me a hunky man.  Tall, dark, handsome...or maybe tall, blond, and gorgeous?  I'm open-minded. ;)  As an author who spends her time writing erotic romance, I have the pleasure of bringing fantasies to life in my stories.  What a job! 

And like readers, I fall in love with my hunky heroes.  I can't help it.  They're the embodiment of the perfect man, each and every one of them. 

Take my Sons of Navarus heroes Vasilije and Saint.  Vasilije is sensual, sexy, and dangerous.  He's the quintessential bad boy.  For me, the idea that he could be so incredibly hot, yet so seriously deadly is a turn on.  (I know I'm not the only one who likes bad boys. Admit it. :) 

And Saint is the tortured soul, the brooding hero.  As much as I love the sexy bad boy, I love the man whose past haunts him, whose darkness is more than just danger.  It's secrets from the past and things he did that still haunt him.  Love that!

If you've ever stopped by my Pinterest boards and checked out the Men board, you know I'm a fan of the hunky hero.  These are just three of the wonderful examples.

He's actually the inspiration for Saint.
That's just nice.
Look at those eyes.

Okay, enough drooling over men.  Let's get to the giveaway.  For this hop, I'm doing something a little different.  I've been doing the swag and Amazon gift card for the past few hops, so this time I'm changing it up.  I was walking through my local mall the other day and saw a wonderful metal bookmark in the window of a little specialty store. So this time I'm still giving one winner Sons of Navarus swag, along with one of those beautiful metal bookmarks I found.

Isn't it pretty?  And this is what the Sons swag looks like (fronts and backs of the bookmarks--they don't have borders around them, though. That's me playing around with Photobucket.):

So what do you have to do to enter to win?  The only mandatory entry is to leave a comment with your email address.  That's it. But I'd love it if you'd do the other entries in the Rafflecopter thing, especially liking the Sons of Navarus page and subscribing to my newsletter (I promise it's only once a month and I sometimes do newsletter only giveaways).  The giveaway is open internationally, so an email gets you in.  The winner will be chosen by random after the giveaway ends and will be notified by email. And if you already liked the Sons of Navarus FB page, follow me on Twitter, and/or subscribe to my newsletter, just let me know so I can count those entries for you. :)

Friday, April 13, 2012

New Blog Design Unveiled!

Ta-da!  This is the first of my two new designs for my blog and my website.  While I loved my previous design, this one seems more fitting now that I've chosen to write the Sons of Navarus series.  With eight vampire heroes, I'm going to be doing paranormal romance for a while, so I thought I'd redo the digs to reflect that.

The old design, which was great, was more classic.

The wonderful Emily from Blogaholic Designs, who designed the previous look, got the nod for this one too, and I love what she did!  Darker and sexier than the older look, the header now has my author tagline "Romance...from sensual to decadent...whatever your desires" and don't miss the signature below each post.  I love that! 

The website design will change soon too, and for that I'm going even sexier.  Here's a teaser of what that header will have:

Isn't that pic delicious?  So sexy! 

In other dark and sexy news, the edits for Blood Betrayed are back from the editor, and I've completed the initial run-through clean up/edit. I type very fast (about 120 words a minute), but I can only sustain it for a little while (no more than a chapter a day).  I hate typing, though, so I always push it too long and as a result, my first draft is riddled with typos.  My editor must hate that, but I send it to her as it's typed.  She's got an eagle eye for such things, so when it comes back to me, it's now riddled with yellow.  I did the clean up edit last night, and this weekend the structural edit begins. 

And the third book, Blood Spirit, is shaping up very nicely.  Last night as I was writing, I had an idea for one of the Sons that's going to add a great layer of tension, so I can't wait to get to that.  Saturday and Sunday are editing and writing, so it's looking to be a terrific weekend for me.

I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Author Ginger Simpson Guest Post

Write with Purpose:

I've been an avid reader most of my life, and a published author for almost ten.  As I encounter each editorial session for contracted books, I continue to learn more about the art of writing...and believe me, it is an art. 

Some of the biggest "stinkers" I've read were written by authors who didn't ask themselves the simplest questions:

Is there a hook at the beginning of my story that draws the reader in and makes them want to keep reading?  If not, chances are the reader won't get beyond the first few pages.  

Does the reader immediately have a feel for the time and place in which the story takes place?  Nothing is worse than starting a story and having no idea about where it's taking place and in which era.  Immediately identify the year and locale if possible to give the reader an immediate feel of the setting.

Are my characters likable, and have I connected the reader with them?  Very few people will read about characters they dislike if no one in the cast holds appeal.  Heroes and Heroines are usually strong personalities because no one likes wimpiness or someone who is too wishy-washy.  You can get away with a little in secondary characters, but make sure there is something admirable about the person or persons in your lead role.

Does each scene do something to propel the story forward?  I personally find it boring to read a scene that adds nothing to the story but word count, and doesn't propel the plot forward.  If you write a scene, make sure it adds to the flow and sets the stage for action or reaction.

Is the plot believable, or in the very least, something with which the reader can identify?  Yes, in fiction we can play make believe, but we still have to have some degree of believability in order for reader to relate to the story.  We can have werewolves and shapeshifters, even invisibility, but there must be something about the characters that bonds them to the reader.  Something human and tangible to stir an emotion.

Is my grammar and description pertinent to the era in which the book is set?  If you write historical, you'd better be accurate in your facts no matter how fictional your characters may be.  There is no faster way to lose credibility than to have your characters speak in a manner not befitting the time frame in which you've set your story.

Have I been redundant?  Oh God, this is perhaps my biggest fear.  I detest nothing more than re-reading the same information over and over, no matter that it may be worded differently.  Readers have good memories, and if you tell them something once, they are likely to remember it and frown if they read it a second or third time.

Have I been consistent?  No one likes a character who has blue eyes in one chapter and brown in the next.  Although I'm a pantser and don't plot my stories, I've taken to making notes of hair/eye color, age, and other important data that is easily forgotten from chapter to chapter.  When you've written quite a few books, remembering who is blond and who is red-headed, can be a chore.  Be consistent.  It's important.

Have I ended each chapter in a way that makes the reader keep turning pages until the end?  I always try to imagine that the person reading my book is looking for a place to put the book down, settle into the blankets and turn off the light.  I don't want them to find that place.  My goal...keep them hooked and turning pages and nothing becomes a snoozer more than a mediocre ending to a chapter.  Each closing paragraph or sentence should set up enough curiosity that the reader can't possibly lose interest.

Will my reader feel the same emotions as my characters?  This is where SHOWING becomes much more important than TELLING.  You can tell someone how sad your character is, but if you do a good job of SHOWING their unhappiness, the reader is bound to feel the same emotions.  Make your reader walk in the character's shoes...feel the emotions, smell the aromas, and feel the downy carpet beneath their bare feet.  

And most of all, as Cheryl St. John taught me, don't let your story become predictable.  Readers want to respect your characters and not be able to figure out the plot before they get to the end.  Surprise them, shock them, scare them, but don't disappoint them.

One last tip.  Read your story aloud.  It's the best way to catch a lot of these problem areas.  Proof-reading your own work is hard because your brain will read what it thinks should be there.  If you say it aloud, it sticks, and you can fix it.  Hope this post has been helpful.  Feel free to add a few tips of your own in the comments section.  We all learn from one another and our reading and writing experiences.

Thanks to Gabrielle for hosting me today.  Consider yourself invited to stop by my blogs, Dishin' It Out and Cowboy Kisses.  If you'd like to see all my books, mosey on over to my website.

Thanks so much, Ginger!  As someone who's been an editor in addition to a writer for years, I second these ideas. 

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Wednesday Tidbits: #iamwriting, #iamediting, and a new publishing gig

So how is everyone doing today?  I'm in the last days of the semester, and the four month summer vacation is calling my name, so I am feeling fine! :)

Blood Betrayed is nearly done with the editor and will be back in my hands within a week.  I'm looking forward to getting back into Saint and Solenne's story.  Since I've been away from it, I've had a few ideas crop up in my mind about little things I want to tweak.  I guess I'm strange, but I like the editing part of the process.  Stepping back from a project and coming at it again anew is always a good feeling.

The third book in the Sons of Navarus series, Blood Spirit, is just at its beginning, but I'm enjoying the writing a great deal.  Terek is a former monk, so he's a character whose sense of commitment and devotion runs deeper than other characters I've written before.  Add to that the influence his sire, a Muslim trader, had on him when he was made vampire in the mid-1300s and Terek is a very interesting man.  This book is coming together well, so here's to a great summer of writing and editing so it can be ready this fall!

Speaking of the Sons, have you stopped over and liked their Facebook page yet?  I'm busy building it up, but there's some history of how my vampires came to be there, along with the yummy covers for the first three books.  Stop over at and give those incredible men a like. ;)

And I've been keeping secrets from everyone. A while back I agreed to be the columns editor for the BTS eMag.  I've been editing for years, so I thought I'd give this new gig a try.  The first edition of the eMag is out today, so jump on over there and take a look.

Also, my blog and website are getting makeovers, so look for the new digs soon.  I've gone a little darker and sexier. ;) I figured since I'm all in with these sexy vampire men for a series, I might as well make them feel at home.

Have a terrific Wednesday!

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Author Elysa Hendricks Guest Post

Welcome to author Elysa Hendricks who visits the blog today to talk about her book This Heart For Hire.


By Elysa Hendricks

A convent reared innocent and a gunslinger with no memory struggle to survive and find love while crossing the dangerous west Texas frontier.
Abandoned by his father and betrayed by his half-brother and fiancée on the eve of his wedding, JAKE GALLAGHER no longer believes in love. Though he longs to go home, his undercover work for the Texas Rangers keeps him in a lawless Texas border town. Even though it jeopardizes his mission he refuses to stand by and watch outlaws rape and murder a young woman. Getting shot and losing his memory wasn’t part of his plan.
While fleeing from her stepfather’s plans to steal their ranch, CHRISTINA GOODWIN witnesses her brother’s murder and is left in the hands of a merciless band of outlaws. Raised in a strict convent, Christina has little knowledge of men or the world, its dangers and temptations. Frightened and alone, she is forced to accept the help of the dark gunslinger who rescues her. Though drawn to Jake’s potent masculinity, she hesitates to trust him, fearing her stepfather has sent him to bring her back. Unsure of Jake’s motives for helping her, she struggles against him, determined to find a way to avenge her brother’s death and regain control of her ranch from her stepfather.

Christina's eyes widened at the sight of the bulge threatening to escape the gap in the man's trousers. She could almost still feel it pressing against the juncture of her thighs. Her hands trembled in rage.
"How dare you touch me?" She tightened her grip on the gun with one hand and with the other dragged the blanket up in an attempt to cover her torn nightdress.
He shrugged his shoulders. "I apologize for my ungentlemanly behavior."
He didn't sound sorry, he sounded amused.
What should she do now? Shoot him? The thought tempted her, but what about the men downstairs? He'd saved her from them. But for what purpose? Perspiration prickled under her arms.
"You know how to shoot a pistol, Kitten?"
"Be quiet or you'll find out. And stop calling me that ridiculous name. I need to think."
"Anything you say, ma'am."
Nothing in her convent training prepared her for this situation. The only men she remembered dealing with were Father Jose, her brother Christopher, and her stepfather. This man was nothing like them.
In the dimly lit room, she couldn't make out the man's features, but he appeared tall, with broad shoulders and lean hips. He exuded an aura of strength and power. Even Mother Superior would have trouble giving orders to this man.
She gulped and felt her skin grow warm. Bruised and battered, physically and mentally, she longed to curl up under the covers and weep. She couldn't. Christopher was gone, dead, killed by the men below. The sound of a shot had jolted her from sleep just before a man burst into her room.
Alone now, she didn't have time to weep. She needed to be strong.
Struggling to make sense out of the events, her brain refused to function. The terror of the last hour, combined with her travel exhaustion, left her lost and confused.
The floorboards squeaked as the man shifted his weight.
"I said don't move." Her voice shook, along with the gun.
"Yes, ma'am."
Christina focused on him. Unless she took care she would join her brother...or worse.
"If you don't mind, it's a mite chilly." The man gestured toward his shirt lying near the foot of the bed.
Christina stared at his bare chest. Chilly? She felt hot. She nodded curtly.
He bent over and picked up his shirt.
"Back over there and get dressed." She used the heavy gun to motion him toward the room's far corner.
He complied, but the small room still left him too close for her to relax.
Tears started at the back of her eyes. She blinked them away. Christopher was dead and the blame lay with her. He hadn't wanted to stay in this seedy little town, but after two weeks on the trail, she begged for one night in a real bed.
After she overheard their stepfather's plans, she persuaded Christopher to flee the Rocking A ranch, though he argued they should stay and confront the man.
If they had stayed, would Christopher be alive? Or would they both be dead?
Four years younger than Christopher, Christina didn't know her brother well. For the last twelve years Christopher lived in St. Louis with their uncle, while their stepfather left her to be raised in the convent. Though they corresponded, only within the last month were they reunited.
Their childhood affection remained intact, but they were strangers. Still, she would miss him.
The gun barrel tipped downward. Her gaze followed. She swallowed at the sight the gun now targeted on the man. Tightening her grip, she lifted both her eyes and the gun upward.
Dangerous. The word came to mind as Christina watched the man button his trousers and pull on his shirt. He moved with the fluid grace of a big cat.
She remembered the strength his rugged body held and how easily he took control. The memory of his hard muscles holding her helpless against the bed made her shudder. Still, he hadn't hurt her. His grip, while inflexible, wasn't painful. Not like those other men who pawed her with hurtful hands. Yet, if not for the gun she held, how long before he finished what he started?
"May I sit?"
Christina jumped. She did it again, allowed her mind to wander. The man stood in front of her, his chest practically touched the muzzle of the gun. His closeness reignited her fear. Scrambling backward on the bed, she lost her balance and tumbled sideways. The gun slipped from her moist fingers and fell with a clunk to the floor at his feet.
Afraid to raise her eyes, she sprawled helpless across the bed. What would he do now? Rape her? Shoot her? Unsure what rape entailed, she didn't know which fate would be worse.
"I think you dropped this." The man's voice, low and soothing, penetrated her haze. She forced herself to look up at him.
One knee on the bed, he loomed over her, a dark, threatening presence. The gun rested loosely on his open palm.
Her eyes widened in shock. He was giving her the gun! Was it a trick?
"Go ahead. Take it if it makes you feel better." He grinned at her. "If you like I'll even show you how to shoot it." He laid the gun next to her hand and backed away.
Christina looked at the gun then at him. She shook her head. Despite everything she knew she couldn't shoot him, even if she could figure out how. Killing was a mortal sin.
The man ran his hand through his hair and scowled. "Damnation woman, let's get something straight." He leaned toward her, then swore again as she tried to scramble further away. The blanket slid through her fingers and tangled around her hips and legs, ensnaring her.
Before she could free herself and escape, he sat down and wrapped the scratchy blanket around her shoulders.
"Listen to me."
Caught between his hard body and the wall, what choice did she have? She refused to look at him.
"I'm not going to rape, or shoot or otherwise hurt you."
His words, while she assumed were meant to reassure her, sounded harsh and angry.
"I didn't rescue you from those animals downstairs to finish the job myself. I am not going to hurt you." He barked the words at her. "I don't take unwilling women to bed."
He wasn't going to rape or shoot her. Venturing a look at his scowling face, she placed her palm against his chest, where his shirt lay open, to push him away. Warmth from his smooth, surprisingly soft skin seeped into her fingers.  "You took off your clothes." She struggled to keep the quiver of fear out of her voice.
The man shifted on the bed. A hint of red appeared on his cheeks. "Yeah, well, not all of them."
"Only because I stopped you."
"Maybe." He flashed her a boyish grin. "I had to convince Conchita you were my woman, not Rico's." He put a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face to his. "Did I hurt you?" His eyes locked on hers.
"No-o," she stammered.
"Well then, what's the problem?"
"But-but, I..." She looked up at the dark stranger in confusion. No, he hadn't hurt her. Yes, he saved her from the men below. But for what? If he didn't want her body and he didn't mean to kill her, what did he plan on doing with her?
Her eyes widened. Oh no! Had her stepfather sent him to bring her back?
"I'm not going back." She went rigid and spat the words at him.
She curled the hand laying on his chest into a claw and raked it across his skin.
The man jumped. "What the Hell!" He grabbed her wrists as she tried to scramble away.
Though unsure of its meaning, Christina shouted a word Conchita had used. "Let go, Bastardo!"
Christina fought his hold. No match for his strength, she wiggled in impotent fury when he trussed her in the blanket like some Egyptian mummy. "Let me loose! How much is my stepfather paying you? I'll double it."
Ignoring her outburst, the man went over to the window to examine the scratches on his chest. Though superficial, they had to sting. The satisfaction Christina took in the fact caused her convent-reared soul only a moment of guilt. He deserved it. As if he heard her thoughts, he turned around and glared at her. She went still and watched him warily.
"What in the hell am I going to do with you? I've got a job to do, if I haven't already blown it. It won't be long before Rico's men realize what they've let slip through their fingers. I need to get you out of here before they demand I give you back. But how?" Though he spoke out loud, Christina realized he wasn't addressing his comments to her.
He stalked over to the room's one window. "Can't get out this way. Room's a good twenty feet up. No ledges."
Opening the door a crack, he peered out. "No way I can sneak you past them now. But they're drinking heavily. Maybe we'll get lucky later and they'll all pass out. A slim chance, but it looks like our only one." He closed the door and propped a chair under the doorknob. "Won't keep anyone out for long, but the noise will give us a few seconds warning."
He moved back to the bed and lay down, pinning her between his body and the wall. She tried to stay stiff, but his heat and scent wrapped around her.
"Move over," he growled in her ear. "I've been on the trail for the last three days, catching up with Rico. I need some sleep and so do you. Besides, looks like we're stuck here 'til morning."
"What are you doing?"
Squirming to put some space between them she loosened the blanket and managed to shove an elbow in his midsection.
"Oof! Be still or I'll tie you up." He put his arm around her waist.
"Unhand me this instant! Go sleep on the floor."
"Not likely. I'm staying right here so I can keep an eye and a hand on you. But you go on wiggling if it makes you feel better."
Under her breath, she muttered one of the words Conchita had used. Though she knew the word was improper, it accurately reflected her feelings at the moment.
"What was that?"
The man's laughter felt warm against the nape of her neck, stirring the fine hairs. The scent of him, leather and beer, mingled with soap and spice, teased her nose. A shiver, unrelated to fear, went through her.
Within minutes his body relaxed in slumber.
Christina held herself rigid in his embrace. She wouldn't go back. She would never agree to marry her stepfather.
As surely as if he pulled the trigger himself John Anderson killed Christopher. She didn't know how, but she would make him pay for his crimes, past and present.
Exhaustion warred with anger, but her fear faded. Held close against the stranger's hard body, she felt oddly secure. His warmth wrapped around her like a thick blanket making her feel safe and protected rather than threatened. The heat of his large hands splayed across her belly penetrated her thin nightdress. His other hand rested below her heart, his fingers brushing the underside of her breast. She wiggled trying to dislodge his hands. He responded by tightening his hold.
Like a big mountain cat, he would pounce at her first attempt to rise. If her stepfather sent this man after her, she was well and truly caught.

Elysa Hendricks is 5'6" tall. She has curly hair and brown eyes. She's an author, a wife, a mother and a daughter. Everything else is subject to change without notice.

After trying her hand at a variety of careers, insurance underwriter, video storeowner, home day care and cleaning houses, Elysa Hendricks, a longtime reader sat down to write a short contemporary novel. When her heroine turned out to be a winged, telepathic alien, Elysa decided she enjoyed writing stories set in different places and times.

While living in north east Illinois she helped found the Windy City Chapter and the Futuristic, Fantasy & Paranormal Chapters of Romance Writers of America and taught workshops on writing at writer’s conferences and at local community colleges. Recently relocated to central Ohio she’s happy to be part of the Central Ohio Fiction Writer family.

Someday she dreams of writing on a laptop while sitting on a tropical beach. In the meantime she keeps warm during Ohio’s chilly winters by creating sizzling love scenes.