PLEASE check out this beautiful post for a chance to win a copy of my historical romance boxed set! ♥
Recently, I’ve been working on something that is a little different from what I usually write. Chasing Ginger is a BBW romantic comedy, as well as book one of The Misfits Series. I am eager to share this snippet with you. In the post, I’ve included some character pictures (Colin Egglesfield is the closest celebrity image I can compare Lance to, so just deal with his hotness…LOL).
Anyway, let’s bring on the romance, right? 😉
Here is the teaser:
A scream tore out of her as someone snagged at her hair, and she yanked away. The pull on her scalp was nothing compared to the panic she felt now. She doubled her efforts as she raced down the sidewalk, her feet pounding in her matching green heels.
Please, please, God. I’ll never use a dating site again if you just get me out of this right now.
A hand shot out, grabbing her arm, and she screamed again.
“Sweetheart, come on,” a male voice coaxed. “There’s no time.”
The voice was soothing. Ginger instantly calmed and found she was led up a set of brief stairs into a large building. Inside, she backed away from the glass a little, breathing a sigh of relief as she saw the group of men pass by.
By now, she could barely breathe and her forehead, upper chest and lower back were sweaty. Her feet and legs ached. She felt like she did at the gym, exhausted, practically passed out, draped over the handlebars of the treadmill. Her breaths hitched in her chest. And she really wasn’t kidding about the boob pain. She winced, passed a hand over her face, and then turned to confront the new threat.
He was a looker, for sure, with dark, spiky hair and really nice blue eyes. He had handsome features and somewhat full lips that were made to be kissed. Get ahold of yourself, Ginger. The man wore a gray business suit. He’d obviously just come from work. And Jesus, he was tall and muscled.
His eyes widened as he took in her appearance.
“Not you too,” she moaned. But hell, for all she knew, maybe he’d never seen a perspiring green marshmallow before.
“Are you all right? Why were those men chasing you?”
She nodded and managed, “I don’t know.”
Because she didn’t. They hadn’t warned that InstaSin would be like this. And it was only day one. Extreme sexiness? Check, if the response she’d received was any indication. Grounds for a restraining order? Nope. They certainly hadn’t covered that in the description of the drug.
“Well, you’re safe now. I think they’re gone.”
His eyes were kind, she decided. And he didn’t look like he was sizing her up for a kink room or a coffin at all. Maybe InstaSin wasn’t supposed to work on every male. Duh, Ginger. If that was the case, there would really be a problem. Thank God. She could breathe a little better now.
“Thank you for the rescue,” she offered.
He smiled. “Anytime. Are you sure you’re okay?”
She nodded. “I think so. I…I mean, yeah. I’m good.”
“Honey, I’d be surprised if you were okay after that.”
“A little shaken at first.”
She detected a slight twang in his speech, and realized he was the consummate Southern gentleman. As the image of her as a Southern belle, trussed up in one of those huge, ruffled gowns, came to mind, she burst out laughing. Then she sobered as she caught his frown. “Ah…uh, sorry. Private joke.”
“I wish I knew the punchline.”
She couldn’t contain a smile, and knew she was blushing. The redhead’s curse. God, he was just too damned cute. Like one of those hot movie stars she couldn’t help fanning herself over. Maybe Henry Cavill? There was one fine man. And Chris Pratt wasn’t too bad either, at least in a rugged space cowboy kind of way. She cleared her throat.
“Right. I should let you get on with the rest of your evening.”
Yeah. First stop? Visiting her doctor friend, Laura Preston, whom she knew would still be at work this late. She wanted her take on that red pill. “I really appreciate your help. And you’re right. I should go.” She began to push open the swinging door.
She tensed, then slowly turned back, measuring his steady gaze. He certainly didn’t look crazed, like those other men had been. “Yes?”
“Will you let me drive you home?”
“Oh. I…I’m not going home.”
“Then to the destination where you’re heading. Look, after what happened, I’m really worried about you. It’s not safe to be alone. And even if you insist, I’d rather make sure you got there in one piece.”
“Well, I suppose that would be all right.”
He nodded. “We can go out the back exit.” He reached in his suit pocket and used his cell phone. “Yeah, Frank? Pull the car in the parking garage, will you? We have a guest.” He nodded. “Thank you. See you in a few.” Then he pressed a button and shoved the phone back in his pocket.
Her eyebrows rose. Car? Guest? The man was speaking a different language. Maybe he’d just been talking to security or his valet, for all she knew.
“Come.” He offered his hand once more, this time waiting on her.
She glanced at it, considering. Geez, she was about to accept an offer from a complete stranger. This was what people warned you against. What if he was secretly a serial killer, or was a closet Dom or something? She shuddered. No way would she ever let someone Fifty Shades her to death.
“You can call me Lance. I promise you can trust me…ah, I don’t know your name, Miss.”
She nodded. “Maybe it’s better that way.”
A look of disappointment crossed his face. At least, that’s what she thought it was. “Very well. I respect your wishes. I’d still like to see you safely to your destination.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
She took his hand then, knowing full well she was putting her life in his hands. But, there was something about him that made her trust him completely. It was his eyes, she thought. Everything in that gaze was genuine, full of concern for her circumstances. His grasp was firm, yet not harmful as he tugged her down the corridor to an elevator, pressing the button.
She glanced at him warily and he offered a reassuring smile.
“It’s all right. We’re just going down to the garage, where my driver is.”
“Oh.” She glanced at the elevator. It was a shiny gold, maybe made of brass or gold-plated. It couldn’t be real gold, right? But, it was still fancy. And he had a driver. How odd. Maybe he was an important man? She glanced down at his reddish brown dress shoes. Damn, were they Italian leather? More to cover the silence than anything, she ventured, “A driver, hmm? You must be special.” When the elevator dinged, they climbed in separately and she waited while he pressed ‘B’. The doors closed and the car shifted.
The man named Lance shook his head. “No, not really. I have my own company, nothing more.”
“So humble,” she murmured. “You realize that’s no small thing.”
“Perhaps. I try not to flaunt it as some people do.”
“That’s admirable really. I work for the owner of a company.” When she realized how stupid that sounded, she laughed and found herself blushing once more. “So foolish. I meant that I’m his assistant.” Little more than a secretary really, she didn’t add.
“Oh, well, that is important. A CEO is nothing without his assistant.”
She glanced away, nodding.
“That’s not what you want to do, though, is it?”
Ginger looked back at him. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I can see it in your eyes. You respect your boss, but he probably doesn’t treat you well or you’d be more content.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to press.”
“No, he’s, ah…a good man.”
“But, you want more than that position?”
She shrugged. “I always wanted to sing.”
Ginger didn’t answer.
“Why didn’t you?”
She shook her head. It wasn’t like she was going to tell him her dark truths, even though her shortcomings were obvious.
“Well, maybe it’s possible now,” he commented as if she hadn’t ignored his question.
“I wish that it was more than anything,” she murmured.
“Do you really?”
She avoided his gaze, pinning her eyes to the floor. It was marked in a black and white Harlequin pattern. God, she thought. It was pure marble. This really was a ritzy building. She hadn’t even paid much attention to where she’d ended up. He really was lowering himself to help her out.
I am pleased to announce a great book release by Mika Jolie, a friend and author I met during my journey! Her contemporary romance, Somewhere to Begin, officially releases on September 20th! Yay! That’s awesome, Mika! Congrats on your upcoming release!
When a new book comes out, it is always an exciting time for an author!
Mika is giving us an exclusive look at her intriguing romance, Somewhere to Begin, today.
This is the blurb for Somewhere to Begin, book one of the Poison and Wine Series:
There are wounds that never show on the body.
For twenty-nine years, Colbie Bennington does as expected with an eternal smile stained on her lips. The biggest chances she’s ever taken can be counted on one hand, three fingers to be exact—her battered red chucks, painting her toenails a vibrant blue, and her wedding dress. Always the dutiful daughter and a Stepford fiancée, she has never acted on impulse, never been in love.
She’s never lived.
On her wedding day, Colbie ends a toxic relationship, drops the fake smile, and says, “I can’t do this anymore.”
Navy SEAL Zander Serrano returns home broken and burdened with a volcano of remorse. Too trapped in a mental war to be at peace and too damaged to be at war, he shuts the world out. The last thing he expects is to feel, especially for a runaway bride with her own baggage.
Two empty hearts marred in different spots find themselves drawn to one another. Each with their own scars. Some, the world can see. Others, unseen to the naked eye.
They say two broken people should not be together. But for Colbie and Zander, their attraction is undeniable, unexpected.
Can two souls with fractured parts be the best cure for each other’s wounds?
Starting over is never easy, but sometimes in life, everyone needs somewhere to begin.
And here are some teasers to entice you with.
Also, the much awaited prologue…
“Somewhere there’s a war.”
~ Mika Jolie
Afghanistan, six months ago . . .
Zander’s body hit hard against the concrete. Bones cracked. Muscles snapped.
Another massive blast shook the building, blowing everything up in its path. Walls screamed. Lights flickered. Tables jumped. Chunks of the ceiling caved in. A cacophony of sounds hit his ears like a tidal wave—the crunching of metal, the tinkling of glass shattering as the explosion blasted its way out of the complex, the sound of a shrill and deafening alarm warning of danger.
“Evacuate. STAT. Bomb. Bomb.” The raucous blaring of the overhead radio jarred through his head.
Black dust hung in the air, burning Zander’s throat and invading his lungs. They were ambushed by enemy fire, facing a barrage of bullets from all directions. Every cell in his body reeled at the immediate assault.
Too close. Much too close.
Human instinct told him to counterattack. Ignoring the initial urge, he waited and gathered his wits. Years as a Navy SEAL taught him never to invest in the first option that crossed his mind.
SEALs held back to see what else showed up.
He spotted a shadow darting around the corner of an adobe wall, assault rifle in hand. Zander drew his semi-automatic pistol. With only a split second to decide, he squeezed the trigger and watched the body collapse.
A deathly silence loomed.
Choking on the lack of oxygen, he released a breath, rolled onto his chest, and scanned the room. Blood dripped from his forehead into his eyes, blurring his vision but not enough to obliterate the horror staring at him. His friends lay like rag dolls in the position of death—lifeless and dismembered, flesh and brains erupted in liquid halos, a plethora of shattered bones—arms outstretched, burning flesh, cracked skulls, brains blown out.
Death tinged the air.
He coughed and swiped his mouth. Through cracked lips, he spat a glob of blood mixed with saliva onto the floor, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Squinting, he inspected the room through the swirling dust for Ben.
A few feet away, his best friend, wet with gore, slouched against a wall. His face was twisted in a grimace, his skin pale and clammy as molten-red fluid pumped from his stomach.
The desperate plea sent chills down Zander’s back. Nausea rolled in his stomach. He closed his eyes for a moment and swallowed hard, pushing back the vomit from his parched mouth. “I’ll get us out. Don’t move,” he cautioned when Ben motioned at the wound on his thigh. They were brothers—not cut from the same cloth, but they’d shed blood together. “I promise—” His words cut short by another deafening explosion.
In the chaos, he analyzed the environment and assessed the risks. Two doors. Four windows. Enemies to the right and left. They were ambushed—a well-organized attack—leaving his band of brothers dead or critically injured. The chance of surviving was nil, but he’d die trying.
Zander flicked his mind to autopilot mode—survival instinct—willing himself out of his surroundings. Becoming invisible was a powerful mental skill he’d mastered over the years when shit got real. He was trained to control the situation, to never react on emotion and to judge every move with logic.
Bullets continued to plow through the room like metallic hail, chipping the pavement around him. Some passed so near to his face he could feel the air being cut in front of him. He snatched one of the fired rounds from the ground and rolled it between his soil-covered fingers. So light, so cold, a trinket designed to take the only thing that really mattered, life.
He shook hands with death, acknowledged it, and whisked it away like a bunch of fruit flies caught in a heavy gust of wind.
Time to kill or be killed.
Relaxing his grip, the bullet slipped through his fingers. The empty casing hit the concrete, making a hollow clinking sound. Zander planted his hands on the floor and pushed himself up. A stifling sensation, as if shaving with a flamethrower, shot through his body.
His legs wobbled.
Gravity yanked him down.
Winded, he dragged himself to a sitting position. Back pressed against the wall, he peered at his legs. Below his knee, blood turned his khakis a deep Tuscan red.
Quickly, he stripped off his jacket, tied it around his thigh, and scanned the area. Not a sound could be heard, either close at hand or in the far off distance. Even his own breath seemed to die as soon as it left his mouth. It was an eerie sort of tranquility as if the world was encased in a cocoon or a bubble, and there was no way out. So instead of being soothed, his senses heightened.
He spotted an M4 carbine inches away. Stretching his arm, he grasped the handle and hauled it toward him. Gun in hand, he belly crawled along the floor, scraping his fingernails across the puddle of his own blood. Sweat and sanguine fluid poured in warm rivulets down his face. He went from body to body, patting down the corpses of James, Pete, and Scott for identification.
Something. Anything to commemorate their existence.
Because SEALs often worked behind enemy lines, a dog tag or something that could give away their identity was considered a huge unnecessary risk. He knew it, but he’d hoped. Pushing back the thought he’d have to identify every one of them later—if he survived—Zander wormed his way from one side of the room to the other and sat next to Ben.
His elbows burned from the effort. None of that mattered. “Put your arms around my shoulder.”
Ben glanced at him. His blue eyes dazed, his skin pale as a ghost.
Shit. Not Ben, too.
Zander rose to his feet, his teeth cutting on his bottom lip. The injury down his thigh protested, and he staggered a little. Ignoring the fire blazing through him, he dragged Ben’s weight down the hall. Tiny lead pellets traveled at twice the speed of sound through what remained of his left leg, the pain intensifying with each dragging step, jarring and brutal. He winced as the pain burned without mercy, penetrating to the cells that should have been protected by smooth skin but most likely lay open and raw.
He was a soldier.
He trained for war, stood for justice, and fought to win.
With all the strength he could muster, he pushed his weight up against the doorway, dragging his left leg along with him. After leaning Ben’s body against the wall, he palmed the door open and picked out the details of his target. A group of insurgents stood in a circle, plotting. They thought they’d won.
Every movement became robotic, more machine than man. The rush of combat spiked his psyche with crazy excitement and hyperalertness. Curling his finger around the trigger, he aimed and squeezed. A hail of bullets jingled in rapid succession, pushing through the air with elegance, striking bodies with extreme precision.
Flesh tore. Arteries split. Indistinguishable faces marked with red splatter extinguished without a wisp of silvery smoke.
For a moment, silence loomed. Time stood still and yet it raced. Sand shifted under his combat boots. Suddenly he heard the sound of blades in the sky. With a deadly whoosh, the helicopter launched its missiles. A storm of dust came stinging, numbing the air with an acrid smell of death.
Exhausted, he leaned against the doorway, drowsiness coiling insidiously within him. An uncomfortable premonition—a feeling in the pit of his stomach as if he was looking death right in the eye—swept over him.
Another earsplitting sound rumbled in the distance. Clouds of fire belched upward. Weightless, he collided with the ground, drenched in his own blood. He sucked in a breath as every muscle throbbed in pain. The faces of his parents, his sister, his brothers, and home dangled in front of him as the gate of hell opened. Eyelids fluttered shut. One last memory of roughing it in a football game with his band of brothers crossed his mind.
A smile curved his lips.
And then everything faded into an abyss.
Universal Amazon link: http://bookgoodies.com/a/B01LK0VKI4
Ooh! What a fascinating story! This looks like a sexy, interesting ride!😉
I can personally vouch for this one, as I was a critique partner for Mika. And I’m a big fan of her Martha’s Way Series.
(Sighs.) I love romance. ♥♥♥
Thank you for telling us about your book, Mika! I know I can’t wait to read this book again! 🙂
Readers, don’t forget to pre-order your copy of Somewhere to Begin today!
Enter the cool gift card giveaway on Rafflecopter:
Good luck in the giveaway, readers!🙂
Wow, this new title looks great! Be sure to get your copy next week, or pre-order it today!
Mika Jolie is the bestselling author of the Martha’s Way series. She lives in New Jersey with her Happy Chaos—her husband and their energizer bunnies. A sports fanatic and a wine aficionado, she’s determined to balance it all and still write about life experiences and matters of the heart. Let’s face it, people are complicated and love can be messy. When she’s not weaving life and romance into evocative tales, you can find her on a hiking adventure, apple picking, or whatever her three men can conjure up.
She loves to hear from readers. Connect with Mika on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads and Amazon.
For latest news on her current works-in-progress, interviews with fellow authors, or just to see what she’s up to, check out her website: http://www.mikajolie.com or sign up for her newsletter http://mikajolie.us8.list-manage1.com/subscribe?u=031e437e36c82d666bd5f3d46&id=af83626053 where you can hear her latest news and enjoy giveaways.
Amazon Author Page: http://amazon.com/author/mikajolie
Thanks again, Mika! We hope to see you back on ILRB sometime.
Happy reading, everyone!🙂
I am pleased to announce a great book release by Young (Bernard Foong), an author I met during my journey! His riveting LGBTQ erotic romance memoir, Turpitude, officially released this month!
Yay! That’s awesome, Bernard! Congrats on your new release!
When a new book comes out, it is always an exciting time for an author!
Bernard is giving us a look at his new MM erotic romance memoir, Turpitude, today.
This is the blurb for Turpitude, book four of A Harem Boy’s Saga Series:
Turpitude is the fourth book to A Harem Boy’s Saga, a provocative story about a young man who was initiated into a clandestine sexual society through his UK boarding school. From there, he was spirited to the Middle East to attend the Bahriji (Oasis) School in The United Arab Emirates in preparation for Harem services for the wealthy elite.
It is also a love story between the young man, his ‘Big Brother,’ and his ‘Valet,’ who served as his chaperones and mentors.
This book follows the teenagers’ erotic and exotic adventures and experiences at their fourth Arabian Household, the Assalamu Alaikum (Peace Be with You) Harem. There, they became confidants to a sheik, assistants to his numerous international ventures, especially that of a film production: “Kāmasūtra – Lover’s Tale.” The teenagers continue to apprentice and model in a controversial photography project, “Sacred Sex in Sacred Places.”
This story is an account of the author’s experiences. Through these truths, often demonized by contemporary societies that deem such behaviors inappropriate, the author hopes to dispel condemnation and negativity related to sexuality, love, and personal freedom.
A Harem Boy’s Saga series – Film Contract has been secured with an independent UK Producer, operating in Hollywood.
And here is an excerpt to tease you with.
“Norway of Arabia”
“Sex is emotion in motion.”
Our helicopter flew towards the picturesque Musandam Dibba Al Hisn, a hidden pene exclave that belonged to Sharjah but was located within the Sultanate of Oman (and which the Omanis referred to as the ‘Norway of Arabia’). I was awed by the imposing mountains and the rugged coastline that surrounded the fertile Gulf of Oman, where colorful marine life swam placidly within this aquamarine sanctuary.
It was of little wonder that Fahrib chose this haven to dock his competitive vessel in readiness for his upcoming Acapulco race. His luxury sailboat was primed and ready for us when we arrived at the marina.
In normal circumstances, Fahrib’s crew would be at the ready to set sail as soon as their commander-in-chief gave them a thumb’s up. In this instance, the crew members consisted of Jabril, Victor, Andy, me, and a handsome Arabian compadre of the sheik whom I had not met before. When our host introduced him as Tad, he said, “My sailing buddy here is a ‘gift from Allah.’”
The man riposted jestingly. “Are you referring to yourself, Fahrib?” before he gave our captain a fraternal hug. The Arabs laughed at their insider’s joke while we looked on with befuddlement, though I would soon discover that this man was indeed a gift to any who had the opportunity to experience his sexual prowess.
As I stood watching our attractive crew get the boat in motion, a sense of freedom overcame me. Suddenly, it dawned on me why my Master kept coming to the “Norway of Arabia” – not only to get away from his nagging wives, but most importantly, to disappear from the maddening crowd and from his public identity.
This narrow entryway that protrudes into the Strait of Hormuz and into the Persian Gulf from the Arabian Peninsula had given rise to a hidden paradise, a place for the unsolicitous to rediscover equilibrium within their harrowed souls. It was a safe haven for the next in line to the throne to set aside what was expected of him and to simply be a man whose carnal desire happens to be for his own sex. In us he’d found valiant camaraderie, a roborant masculinity as old as ancient Hellenism and as new as contemporary bromance.
As soon as we were out of sight of dry land, Tad advocated we strip bare to enhance our seafaring experience. Jabril seconded his motion, followed by our commander-in-chief. We E.R.O.S. recruits had no qualms about being naked, and neither did Victor, who was an ex Enlightened Royal Oracle Society member.
As each of us revealed our nakedness, Sharjah’s cover-ups and pretexts seemed to tumble away. I felt liberated from society’s constraints as my last item of clothing was discarded.
The sheik’s playful bon mot with his pal certainly proved true when he revealed all of himself. Tad’s and Fahrib’s imposing looks, combined with their formidable endowments, were impressive to behold. I couldn’t help but steal secret glances at their ‘Allah’s gifts to mankind.’ They were not just majestic in girth but resplendent in length, even when flaccid. Any hot-blooded male or female to witness such plumpness would undoubtedly deem my perception accurate. It was of little wonder our captain’s wives craved their husband’s attention.
Comfortable in our skins, we cruised along the majestic mountains, the sweltering sun beating upon the fjords of Oman. The steamy crew had fueled my heightened libido as my erection bobbed to the rhythmic motion of the rocking boat. We made no effort to hide our arousal as we worked tirelessly at our assigned chores.
Captain Fahrib had assigned me as an assistant steerage to Tad, the red-hot Arabian helmsman. My job was to help him keep the boat’s wheel in check so wind wouldn’t steer the vessel off course. He said jokingly while studying a map, “Ready about… hard-a-lee?”
I stared at him, befuddled. He laughed at my nautical ignorance.
“What? What did you say?” I queried in all seriousness.
He smiled wryly at my erection before answering, “Don’t be embarrassed by your excitement. We sailors are in tune with nature’s wonders.” He made no effort not to look at my length. He resumed, “Even though we take japes at nautical idioms when sailing in the buff.” He gave me a cursory look.
Up until this juncture, I’d had no idea that the helmsman was an accomplished member of the sheik’s sailing team, bound for the 1968 Summer Olympics, not to mention being a champion polo player and a titlist camel racer.
I gave the man a comely smile before inquiring, “What’s hard-a-lee?”
Instead of responding, he tapped my erection, which bounced uncontrollably. His hardness had grown during our flirtatious intercourse, its bulbaceous size stirring my concupiscence to flutter as his sturdy hand stroked me into a dizzying spell. He pulled me to him, French kissing me passionately.
Spellbound by his erotic expertise, I lost all sense of propriety. The feel of his bearded chin and hairy chest spawned my stiffness to drum incessantly against his furry torso.
I had desired this sinewy helmsman from the moment we met. When he gave me the traditional nose-to-nose greeting, he’d stared at me unflinchingly. He had claimed my person with his assertive eyes then; now, thrills of chilling excitement coursed through my body as he cupped and squeezed my buttocks, teasing my tenderness with his manly hands.
As we continued our alluring foreplay, the boat had drifted into an aquiline cove. It was then that I noticed my beloved Andy observing us by the doorway. My Valet gave me his approval to continue appeasing the beguiling athlete as he stared, mesmerized, at our erotic performance. He, like me, was entranced by Tad’s virility. He was witnessing a reflective manifestation of our intimate moments together in which I had surrendered myself fully to his maleness, as I did now to the helmsman.
Universal Amazon link: viewBook.at/Turpitude
Ooh! Pretty hot! ♥♥♥ This looks like an interesting book!😉
Thank you for telling us about your book, Bernard! 🙂
Readers, here is a little more about the series.
A Harem Boy’s Saga: A Memoir by Young…
A Harem Boy’s Saga series is published by Solstice Publishing and is available in print, audio and E-books internationally.
A Harem Boy’s Saga series Film Contract has been secured with an independent UK Producer, operating in Hollywood.
Books I, II, & III
If you haven’t started this series yet, this is the perfect opportunity!
FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER,
Starting today, Book I-‘Initiation’ has begun an
Amazon Kindle Countdown!
Get your copy of Book I quickly!
The price goes back to normal($5.99) on September 17th!
Also, enter this awesome giveaway as part of the new release tour!
Enter For Your Chance to win!!!
- Authors have a chance to win a $10 Service From Rukia Publishing Book Promotions
- Readers have a chance at winning a $10 Amazon Gift Card
All entrants will receive a copy of No Distance Between Us
Rafflecopter Giveaway Link: https://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/9ad07a2936/
Good luck in the giveaway, readers! 🙂
Wow, this new title looks great!
Young alias Bernard Foong is, first and foremost, a sensitivist. He finds nuance in everything. To experience the world he inhabits is an adventure which is mystical, childlike and refreshing. He has a rare ability to create beauty in a unique fashion. His palettes have been material, paint, words and human experiences.
~By Christine Maynard
(screenwriter and novelist)
Watch Life on Maui with Steven Freid ~ Guest: Bernard Foong, Author
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Young/e/B00CENKJKM/
Thanks again, Bernard! We hope to see you back on ILRB sometime. ♥
Happy reading, everyone!🙂
If you follow my work, then you know I published a paranormal romance/urban fantasy book called Second Nature in December of 2014. Well, the sequel is not done yet, but I randomly find myself working on book two of the Blood at First Sight Series. It is titled Blood Instincts. Here is a brief teaser to keep fans in the loop:
Again, the conviction that this “date” was a bad idea didn’t leave. It was too late to cancel, and what was more, he actually wanted to see her. She had a lovely face, somewhat exotic, with dark, shiny hair he wanted to touch. He’d bet her long waves were soft. Her skin too, he thought idly. And those eyes…she had dark brown eyes, almost black but not quite…eyes he wanted to gaze into as she climaxed under his hands.
Oliver shook himself with a reminder that he didn’t have to get involved with her to watch her. He’d go out with her tonight, but following her might be a better idea after all. Oliver finished dressing and went to the car he’d rented for the evening. He wanted to celebrate this woman in style, to really treat her right. When he realized how that sounded, he cursed. It was too late to change his plans now.
By six-thirty on the dot, he was standing at the door to her apartment. Clearly being a practical woman, he knew she’d appreciate punctuality. Absently, he ran a hand through his short hair, then looked down, saw the single rose in his hand and scowled. He couldn’t have made his intentions clearer if he’d tried. Myah was going to think he was interested, and not just for the short-term. Of course, it was possible that she didn’t know the meaning of flowers as he did, for a single red rose meant ‘life-long devotion and love’. His chest began to ache, and he attributed it to guilt. He didn’t want to use her, he realized, not for blood and not for her body. She deserved…more.
He took a deep breath, and then knocked. A few seconds later, the door swung open. He was still looking down at the bloom in his hand when he caught her scent. His nostrils flared, aware of the heady combination of jasmine and the sweet fluid in her veins.
“Oliver, is everything all right?”
“Yes, it’s…” His gaze swung back up to hers, but didn’t stop there. Oliver took her in like a man long deprived of water. Tonight, her hair had a fine sheen and was straight as if she’d ironed it. It fell straight down her back and she’d gone to a little more trouble with her makeup, yet she still appeared natural. She’d done something amazing around her eyes, however, and they really stood out. He wanted to drown in that gaze. How silly, he thought, but then got a look at the rest of her. Her silver earrings dangled down in a marquis pattern. Her neck and the top of her chest were somewhat exposed as she’d squeezed herself into a mid-thigh length black dress with thin straps. The dress was made of soft black lace, causing him to wonder if she wore matching panties as well. Her legs were athletic, but smooth, and he had to stifle the urge to drop to his knees and kiss all the way up her perfect thighs. Her small feet were strapped into shining black heels.
“Oliver, did you hear me? Are you okay?”
He cleared his throat, forcing his eyes back to her face. “Ah…I’m fine. My God, you look amazing.” His throat was incredibly dry, and he was aware of a thirst that not only had to do with her appearance but her life essence. He worked on suppressing the bloodlust.
The blush that moved across her cheekbones was charming. “Oh, thank you. You clean up well too, Mr. King.”
He smiled, then handed her the rose. “This pales in comparison to your beauty, but I wanted to give you something.”
“Oh, it’s lovely! How sweet.” She leaned down, inhaling, and as her nose got closer to the red rose, he thought she made quite the picture. Again, he wished to paint her; he would use the brush strokes to really capture who this woman was. When she looked back at him, there was a teasing light in her eyes.
She shook her head. “Oh, it’s nothing.”
“Tell me,” he urged her.
“I wasn’t sure you were interested the other night or if you just felt bad for me and did it to appease your guilt.”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t interested. I thought the diner was the way to try to make up for it, of course, but the more I saw you, the more I wanted to know.” He didn’t add that his foolish, impulsive side didn’t seem to want to listen to anything he told it. ‘No’ clearly wasn’t in its vocabulary.
That pretty blush returned to her face. “Ah…let me put this rose in a vase.”
When she came back, she’d put on a black coat, closing the two buttons in the front as she got to the door.
“Do you have everything you need?”
“Great. Shall we?”
“Of course.” Myah locked up, and soon they’d left the apartment building. He led her to the sleek black car at the curb. “This is yours?”
He shook his head. “A rental. It is nice, but I don’t usually drive cars.”
“May I ask why?”
Oliver shrugged. “I just prefer walking, that’s all.”
She stared at him with a strange look on her face for a moment when he opened her door.
“Is there a problem?”
She shook her head and smiled. “Not at all. I am partial to walking as well. But, this car…it is very fine and appropriate for the evening.”
“That’s what I was going for.” Her cheek dimpled and he couldn’t resist leaning forward and pressing his lips against it. Her face was warm, incredibly soft beneath his mouth, and he had to move away before he did something really stupid. The surprised glance she sent him sealed the deal.
He had to go slowly with Myah. He sensed an unusual innocence about her, which only made his protective instincts fire even more. “My lady,” he murmured, gesturing to the open car door. He reached out and grasped her hand to give her some leverage as she climbed into the leather seat in those insane heels. Her quiet thank you was natural, and yet it made him feel like he could climb a mountain. He shook off the sensation, closed her door then rounded the car and got in.
Recently, I’ve been working on something that isn’t quite what I usually write. Blue Vision is a paranormal/sci-fi romance. In any case, it has been a blast to write and I can’t wait to share this snippet with all of you. Bring on the romance, right? Hmm…what should I choose to show you? This one should do just fine.
Here is the teaser:
The cold air practically cut through her pea coat now. Brooke shivered and just as she drew her coat tighter against her, she saw a sudden bright light in the sky. It streaked down, nearly at an angle, like a beam shooting down from the heavens. It was a bright green color and its descent was fast, too quick to discern the source. It went straight into the middle of the forest, then everything was dark once more. Just as she narrowed her eyes, straining to see better, the earth moved. She felt the tremor beneath her feet and at the railing under her grasp.
Thrown off balance, she fell back on her rump. After the initial shock wore off, she laughed, righting herself. Almost sure she had imagined the light, she suddenly saw a bright green glow coming from the woods to her right. Curious, she left the deck and entered the cabin once more.
She dialed Helen’s number using the landline in the kitchen, then sat down at the table there. “Yes, I’m calling from cabin 13. This might sound silly, but I think we just had an earthquake.” She paused for a moment. “You didn’t feel anything? But, I’m certain there was something. And the green light. No, of course I haven’t been drinking. I didn’t know there was any wine here.” She sighed. “Well, all right. Thank you.” She hung up, then stood, wrapping her arms around her trembling body. How could she be the only one who noticed it? “I know I didn’t imagine it.”
Brooke went to find a flashlight in one of the kitchen drawers and when she located one, she left the cabin, descending into the woods in the direction of the green glow. She was aware of it from a distance and as she trudged through the snow, scaling the slope of land, she thought she could hear a humming sound, almost mechanical. She pushed on, aware that her legs were quickly becoming numb and the wet snow was inching its way into her boots at a maddening rate. She pushed forwards, intent on finding the source of the light. Then everything went dark, including her flashlight.
She froze. A string of curses left her as she beat the infernal flashlight against her thigh. The battery rolled around in the chamber, but nothing else happened. There was complete darkness surrounding her. She strained to see the light that had been there just moments before, but to no avail. Nothing was there. And she couldn’t go further without seeing ahead of her. She didn’t want to stumble or injure herself if she headed back to the cabin. She certainly didn’t want to die on the ground in the forest in the middle of winter.
She shivered, pulling her coat tighter, but it did little to protect her from the icy cold. Suddenly the green light returned and it was just ahead. She pushed forward, trekking through the calf-deep snow in her awkward boots and short skirt. “Hello?”
As she neared the green ray of light, she saw a figure looming before her. It was shrouded in black. Startled, she screamed, tripping over her own feet. She landed face first in the snow. Coughing, she struggled and then eased back on her heels, trying to push herself up. She felt an arm around her, lifting her, assisting her. When she regained her footing, she whispered, “Thank you.”
But, there was no answer. She swung to see who it was, but no one was there. She turned back and saw the figure standing several feet away once more.
“I’m sorry to have startled you.”
Brooke laughed nervously. “I didn’t expect to see anyone else out here. No one believed me. But, I know what I saw. I came to see about the light.” Aware she was babbling and probably sounded like a loon, she clamped her mouth shut, crossing her arms over her chest.
She frowned and pointed at the green beam of light just ahead, beyond the trees.
“You saw nothing.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? It’s right there! Just look.”
He stepped closer to her, enough so that she could see his upper body and face. He was tall, his shoulders broad and his physique muscular, his shoulders wide like a football player. His hair was cropped short at his skull and dark brown. His eyes were so dark, practically black as he stared down at her. And there was a bluish tint to his skin. Her gaze widened as it traveled down. He was naked. Holy crap, he was really naked. Her breath caught at that discovery and her heart began to race wildly.
“You saw nothing,” he repeated, lifting her chin with one finger as he looked into her eyes.
She shivered, and then blinked. His eyes were electric blue now. Jesus, maybe she was losing her mind. People’s eyes didn’t shift color like that.
I’ve been steadily at work finishing up the final book of the Heiresses in Love Series, Upon Your Love. Current word count? 112,816 words. Lots more writing to do before I even think of edits. So, I thought I’d drop by today and offer a teaser. For those familiar with the series, you may have wondered if I was ever going to pair Eric, Grant’s valet and family friend to the Hill’s, with someone. Well, here’s the answer and a sexy teaser:
“You don’t approve of women who give their favors easily,” she said at last, her eyes fastened on him once more.
“That’s right. It’s not snobbery in any fashion. I believe that some women are placed in that position because of circumstances I can’t even imagine. I do see why it occurs, but it’s not my preference at all.”
“In what context is it all right then?”
He wondered where this line of questioning was going. Judging from her reaction just a few minutes ago, she couldn’t be in a hurry to repeat that intimacy. “If two people care about each other and are attracted to one another, then I believe there’s no reason they shouldn’t act on their feelings. Unless there are reasons they should avoid it.”
He shrugged. “One is too young or it’s an extramarital affair. In those cases, it is, of course, the proper thing to avoid getting too close.”
“And what about us? Would that be proper?”
He swallowed hard. Couldn’t she see that she was tormenting him? “Ah…yes, I suppose. But, you don’t feel that way about me, Claudette.”
She frowned. “You’ve kissed me many times.”
“So I have. But, if you felt any more for me, you would have told me by now.”
She began to pace around the room, his eyes following her like she was his body’s only compass. “And what if I was waiting on you?”
“Were you?” he murmured, then shook his head. “You don’t mean that. Awhile ago, you thought I’d hurt you, which I would never do, chére. What you’re saying is not possible.”
He frowned. “What?”
“I wasn’t afraid you had attacked me.” She sighed. “I was afraid I’d had too much to drink…”
“That I’d taken advantage of you?”
“No, only that I let you, that I consented. But, then I saw that you were still dressed.”
“It was meant to reassure you.”
“Thank you for that.” She crossed the room and sat beside him on the bed. When she reached out and touched his cheek, he steeled himself against the urge to lean closer. “You’re a good man, Eric. I’ve never known anyone like you. It would be an honor to be with you.”
Mon Dieu, was she saying what he thought she was? His most fervent dreams couldn’t possibly be happening right now. “The honor is mine, I assure you. For any moment I spend with you is unforgettable.”
A fine sheen came over her eyes, making her green gaze appear luminous. Tears, he thought, but she didn’t shed them. He kept his eyes on hers, absorbing her nearness until she leaned forward and brushed her mouth against his. The tingling sensation moved throughout his entire body, creating fires that weren’t quite there before. Helpless to resist her invitation, he let himself dive into the kiss, seeking her sweetness with his tongue. When they came up for air, he speared a hand into her long hair. “Ah, Claudette, you know how much I want you. I cannot hide it. But, I want do to this properly.” He took a deep breath as he looked into her pretty eyes. “Tell me ‘no’ now, and I’ll leave this room.”
“I don’t want to say ‘no’.”
He groaned. “If you don’t, I’m going to make love to you and I doubt either of us will be the same again.”
Her lips parted and he stole a kiss, knowing he was on the edge. They both moaned. “Say it. Tell me ‘no’,” he said, tearing his mouth away.
“No one has ever made love to me. I should like to experience that.”
Her voice was barely a whisper, but his body heard every word, leaning closer. It took a second for his brain to weigh in. He nodded, and knew that he had to go slowly because of her limited experience, and she clearly wasn’t going to brush him off. He paced himself by touching her gently, brushing her exposed shoulders and arms with his palms as he leaned in to kiss her again.
A promo for SECOND NATURE on L.T. Kelly’s blog!
Title: Second Nature, book one of the Blood at First Sight Series
Genre: Paranormal Romance/Urban Fantasy
Second Nature Blurb:
She never expected it…
Desiree Edwards has a problem. She’s been attacked, kidnapped and forced to get along with a vampire of all things. It’s something right out of the story books she reads, or her worst nightmare. But, sometimes he’s not the monster he appears to be. He seems so humanlike that she can’t help it when her emotions betray her, when her body betrays her. To make matters worse, she finds out more about herself than she ever wanted to know.
She was unlike any other…
Alec has a problem. The animal in him wants Desiree. But, so does the man. The more he learns about her, the harder it is to deny what he wants. But, he’s a freak, and she’s just a human. The two species don’t mix that way. Then an old enemy surfaces and Alec is…
View original post 811 more words
I thought I’d share another teaser from SECOND NATURE, which is with beta readers right now.
The erotic growl came back and it ended on a purr. “If I do this, I can’t go back. I can’t undo it.”
She frowned and thought he was talking to himself more than to her. She couldn’t imagine what he meant. “I’m not going to change my mind. I want to help you, Alec. You need to feed and I can provide that for you.”
He was quiet for too long. “You don’t know what your trust means to me.”
She blinked back the tears that speared into her eyes. Like this, he certainly didn’t sound like a vampire or a supernatural being that had used people for years. He sounded…well, like a man. “Do it. I want you to,” she whispered, her body now trembling from a mix of anxiety and passion.
When his fangs struck her, she cried out at the bite, the burn. Suddenly it faded, replaced with only warmth. His arms encircled her, drawing her so close she couldn’t imagine not being with him in some way. The sucks, the slight pulls on her skin were very erotic and she knew she grew prepared for him.
She wondered how vampires could gauge what was enough, what was too much to take. Well, she could add that to her long list of questions, couldn’t she?
“So much thinking…relax, Desiree. I won’t take you if you’re uneasy about this.”
Her name sounded so right on his lips. She closed her eyes, and concentrated on the slow sucking sensation from his mouth. “I’m here. I’m fine,” she assured him. To ease them both, she lifted a hand to his hair. The black spikes were soft against her fingertips. His groan communicated itself to her. She moved her hand from his hair to the nape of his neck. His arms were like steel around her, but the strength wasn’t a deterrent. For a moment, she thought wildly of what it might be like to be a vampire, biting him, taking him as he took her equally. Her belly grew warm in a liquid slide.
His growl returned and she wondered if he’d read her mind. Probably.
She smiled and just held him in return.
I just wanted to share this teaser from a work in progress. It’s a paranormal romance…
Then the unthinkable happened. The knife slipped from her grasp and she could only stare in horror as the blood drained from her wrist. No, she thought. No! her mind screamed. Suddenly, she felt weak and with a delayed response, she reached for a towel.
Before she knew it, a weight pressed in behind her. Fear sliced into her. The scream didn’t make it out of her mouth. She watch in dull fascination as Alec brought her bloody wrist to his mouth. A second later, she started kicking and screaming. He managed to subdue her easily, trapping her arms.
“Cease the fight, love,” he said softly.
“You will not drain me dry. I am not dying.”
“Shh,” he whispered. “Trust me.”
His dark eyes were hypnotic on hers. He was facing her now. How did he move so fast? She watched as he ran his tongue over her wounds. The breath was all caught up in her chest, choking her. She wanted to scream, but for some reason, she’d lost her voice.
“Look,“ he commanded.
Her mouth dropped open as the cut sealed itself. When it was closed completely, he tugged her to the sink where he wet a cloth and wiped the bloodstains from her skin. He also wiped his own mouth off.
“You didn’t seem to enjoy that. You…you didn’t take advantage.”
He scowled. “You are right, Desiree. I get no pleasure from your pain.”