S.O. S. - Sex on Saturday 3/16/13

How about a little something from my one and only auto racing themed romance?

His little brain filled in the missing image of soft, pale skin, creamy breasts covered in something lacy and utterly feminine, something that matched the scrap of panties he'd have to slide his hand inside her coveralls to get to. 

Sweet Carolina is available from these retailers - 

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Smashwords

Kobo

Sony

All Romance eBooks

Diesel

Apple iBook Store

S.O.S.- Sex on Saturday

This isn't your grandparent's cruise ship!

Ryan's elbows slipped out from under him and he fell against the table, cursing a blue streak as his hands sought and found her head, still bent over his spewing cock.

The Lust Boat is available from these retailers - 

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

All Romance eBooks

Kobo

Red Sage Publishing

Read an excerpt here.

Visit Roz Lee's website.

Lost Melody by Dolores W. Maroney

Many of you know of my alter ego, Dolores, but you rarely see her. Dolores is stepping out of the shadows today with her new release - a mainstream contemporary romance.

Here's a peek!

Blurb-

Out of sight, out of mind. That’s what Melody Ravenswood was counting on when she invented a new life for herself as Mel Harper in the small farming community of Willowbrook, Texas. She could be herself, whoever that was. Having long since lost her identity to being the only child and sole beneficiary of a legendary rock and roller, she was finally going to live the normal life she craved – a job, a house, friends and no paparazzi.

Hank Travis is the last thing Mel needs in her new life. The local boy turned rock and roll star’s sexy, won’t take no for an answer pursuit makes her long for a life she has only dreamed of. Before Mel can have the future she wants with Hank, she must confront her past and find the Melody she lost along the way.

Excerpt -

Smitty’s was packed to the rafters with locals out for a little recreation after a hard week of scraping a living from the black soil of North East Texas. Hank paused inside the door, soaking in the familiar ambiance of stale spilled beer and the lingering stench of cigarette smoke from the days before smoking had been banned in the bar. The jukebox belted out a country ballad. It wasn’t his style, but he could tolerate it. Someone shoved a cold Lone Star longneck into his hand as he passed the bar. He took a long swig and sized up the competition in the back room. Chris and Randy waited for the center table to free up. He joined them, leaning against the wall.

“Glad you could make it,” Chris greeted him. “The table should be free in a few minutes.”

“I’d never miss a chance to whoop the two of you.”

“Right.” Randy smirked. “Be prepared to put your money where your mouth is. I’ve been practicing while you’ve been gallivanting your pansy-ass all over the world.”

“I’ve never needed practice to clean your pockets. How much are you planning to part with tonight?”

They were still haggling over the size of their bets when the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Hank turned, scanned the room. He was just about to dismiss the feeling as nothing when he saw her. Mel Harper. It took a couple of seconds before her gaze met his, but when they locked, something flared between them, and he couldn’t look away. 

She wore denim. Expensive, designer denim. The short jacket matched the jeans and parted to reveal a white lace camisole. His gaze skimmed down her long legs to her sexy high heel sandals. Her toenails, painted a soft pink, matched her fingernails. She’d pulled her shoulder length hair into a high ponytail that swung side-to-side every time she moved. She sparkled like a diamond in a box of rocks. 

Lord help him, but he wanted her. 

He took a step in her direction, his gaze fixated on the patch of skin peeking out from the collar of her jacket. He’d start by tasting her there. A swish of hair crossed his line of sight, drawing his gaze up to troubled blue eyes. She shook her head and turned to leave. 

He pounced, crossing the room in three steps and grabbed her by the elbow to halt her retreat. “Wait.”

“Let go of me, Hammer.”

Hank flinched at the nickname. He loosened his grip on her arm, and she twisted enough to break the contact. The voice of reason whispered in his head, Let her go, but instead he said, “Stay a while. We were about to play a game or two.”

Her gaze darted around him to Chris and Randy. “No. No, I don’t think so.”

There was disgust and something else, fear perhaps, in her eyes. She turned, making a beeline to the door. He let her go. What else could he do? He cursed the nickname Karen had given him and the reputation that went along with it. It was shit like the stunt Karen had pulled on him that made celebrities wary of the media.

“What was that all about?” Chris asked when he rejoined his friends in the back. A table became available, and they moved in to claim it.

“Hell if I know.” He leaned against the table and stared at the worn floorboards, absently rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. A part of him told him he’d just dodged a bullet, but another insisted she was worth the risk. Which one was right?

 “What did you do to her?” Randy asked. “She high-tailed it out of here with the chick who owns the bakery downtown. You would have thought there was a skunk chasing them they were moving so fast.”

He straightened. “All I did was invite her to play a round of pool with us. I hardly know the woman.”

“Didn’t look that way from here,” Chris said.

Hank grabbed a pool cue and chalked the tip. “She called me Hammer.” 

Chris racked the balls. “So?”

“So, she knows who I am. I guess she believes everything she reads.”

“She’s a reporter. She should know better,” Randy said, circling the table to give Hank room at the end.

Hank positioned the cue ball and lined up his shot. “I don’t want to talk about it. Okay? I came here to play pool. Let’s get on with it.”

“There is some good news in all of this,” Randy persisted. 

“You obviously see something I don’t, so fill me in,” Hank said.

“Well, she knows who you are now, and it’s obvious she doesn’t want to be anywhere near you, so the chances of her using your dad to get close to you just dipped to zero.”

Chris nodded. “He’s got a point.” 

“Will you two stick a sock in it and just play?”

Leave it to those two to point out the flaws in his logic.

His friends were like two dogs with a ‘coon in a tree. They wouldn’t leave it alone. He lost the first game to Chris, and the second to Randy. He paid up without comment and settled his bar tab. He left his friends to play a winner-takes-all round without him. 

Randy was right. She should know better than to believe everything she reads, which begged the question, why was she so upset to find out who he was? And the other question he couldn’t shake—why did he care? 

Lost Melody is available from these retailers - 

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

All Romance eBooks

Smashwords

About the Author - 

Dolores has been married to the same wonderful guy for thirty-three years. They have two lovely daughters and a black lab. She makes her home in the wilds of New Jersey (yes, there are wilds in NJ). A Texan with familial roots that go all the way back to the Republic of Texas, Dolores says you can take the girl out of Texas, but...well, you know the rest.

She's been a stay-at-home mom for most of her married life - a job she says is under-rated on the difficulty scale. Now that her girls are grown, she's still available to them anytime, day or night, but she fills her days with writing romance novels and reading.

Dolores is a best-selling, multi-published author of erotic romance under the pseudonym, Roz Lee.

Connect with Dolores -

Facebook

Website

S.O.S.- Sex On Saturday

Here's my one-liner for the day.

God, he tasted like the finest wine, and she was well on her way to being intoxicated when a hot, wet tongue swept the sated flesh between her legs.

Inside Heat is available from these retailers -

Amazon – eBook and print

Barnes & Noble – eBook and print

All Romance eBooks

Smashwords

Kobo

Sony

Diesel

Apple iBook Store 

Review - Too Close for Comfort by Lynne Marshall

Blurb

Joy Waltham is stressed out. Before she can expand her business empire, she needs her ex-husband's signature dissolving his silent partnership. A trip to Maine to find her ex, get the signature, and chill out seems ideal. But instead of relaxing, Joy winds up in the middle of a mystery--and wrapped in the overprotective arms of Comfort's chief of police--her ex-husband.

After retiring from LAPD, Paul Donovan took charge of tiny Comfort's police department. Bored senseless, he's still not ready for chaos in the form of his ex-wife shaking up his life. Joy arrives just in time to meddle in his investigation of a string of accidental deaths. Now forced to work together, Joy and Paul confront some unexpected challenges.

It's emotional deja vu as they dig through their thorny past, reawaken old sexual attraction, and face the fact they never stopped loving each other.

My Review - 

This is another great read from an author who continues to surprise me. TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT is a cozy mystery woven together with a tender love story. As I’ve come to expect, Ms. Marshall’s characters come across as real, fleshed out people. They are your neighbors and your friends. Their emotions and personal struggles are believable.

As in her earlier work, ONE FOR THE ROAD, Ms. Marshall has done the romance world a favor by focusing on an older generation. Joy and Paul have been there – done that. Their twenty-something years of marriage ended in divorce, but they soon find that a piece of paper doesn’t make a divorce any more than it does a marriage.

Ms. Marshall does a fabulous job with the rebirth of the romance that brought these two together in the first place. If there’s any fault to be found in this story, it’s the way the heroine stumbles and bumbles her way into her ex-husband’s business. I was reminded of a clueless version of Jessica Fletcher of Murder She Wrote fame, complete with a Cabot Cove-ish setting. I can forgive the heroine’s behavior because it becomes apparent that this trait was part of what made her attractive to the hero when they first met – before life’s struggles created a wedge between them.

Overall, I give TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT four stars. I enjoyed watching Joy and Paul rediscover what made them fall in love in the first place and come to terms with the realities that forced them apart. 

Learn more about Lynne Marshall at her website.
Available in print and eBook from -

Review - The 90 Day Rule by Diane Nelson

When playing by the rules means stepping over the line…


Sometimes starting over means trying out assault and battery, especially when the object d’ violence is a cheating husband caught in the act. Restraining orders aside, safety comes in numbers and having certain … standards.

For Jessamine chaos and capitulation are facts of life. Giving up dreams to service her husband’s ambitions and enabling the same blind submission in her own daughter ends abruptly, leaving her rootless, homeless and destitute. 

For some people, it is the kindness of strangers who make the difference but for Jes it is the unlikely alliance of the mother-in-law-from-hell, a devastatingly handsome basketball coach and a phalanx of determined team members who convince a woman of a certain age that beginning again doesn’t mean giving up or giving in.

The only problem is … there’s that pesky 90 day rule.

Review-

Who says love and romance is only for the twenty-something crowd? I’m a firm believer that there’s no expiration date on a woman’s heart, and THE 90 DAY RULE by Diane Nelson proves the point.

Jes’s story is one far too many women have lived. At an early age, her dreams fell under the bus that was her husband’s career, relegating her to the subservient role of token wife in charge of nothing but raising the perfect child and projecting the image of the perfect family. It’s all about keeping up images, until she catches her philandering husband in bed with a woman/girl young enough to be his daughter.

Fresh out of options, Jes is sleeping on the sofa in her daughter’s college digs while she tries to knit together a new life with tattered threads from the old one. Help comes from an unexpected source, but like most gifts, it comes with strings attached – play the devoted wife for ninety days, long enough to get her husband re-elected, in exchange for a quick divorce complete with a financial settlement that will allow her to resuscitate her dreams.

This is a wonderfully refreshing read jam-packed with real emotion and realistic conflict. As a reader well past the twenty-something mark, I appreciate a mature heroine with mature issues. Can she pick up where she left off all those years ago? Are the dreams of her youth no longer attainable or realistic at her age? What, exactly, does she have to offer the world? What is she to do with unexpected desire, and the important question in any romance, can she dare to love again?

I loved Jes’s journey from lost and broken to grounded and strong. The transformation isn’t easy, but real life rarely is. THE 90 DAY RULE is honest, and real, and fabulous, as well as refreshing, bold, and well written with layers upon layers to make a reader think along the way. I give it five stars for originality in a genre that too often takes the freeway when a side road might be more interesting.

Purchase THE 90 DAY RULE here.

Diane Nelson's Website

New Release! - Sweet Carolina

Winning her heart will be the sweetest victory of all.

Twenty-three-year-old Carolina Hawkins needs an experienced Cup driver, or the business she inherited from her father will be facing its last lap on the NASCAR circuit. Approaching her childhood friend, Dell Wayne, is risky - there's a reason he doesn't have a ride in the middle of the season. Carolina pins her hopes and dreams on the man once touted as a brilliant, new style of driver, but whose recent track performance has earned him the nickname – Madman.

After his father's tragic death at Darlington, Caudell Wayne Jr. has done his best to live 'down' to his father's expectations. When Carolina Hawkins hires him to drive for her failing race team, her faith in his ability prompts Dell to dig deep to find the driver she needs in order to save her business and her dream, and if he's lucky, maybe he'll win the biggest trophy of all, her heart. 

Excerpt -

Dell closed the door behind her and watched through the sidelight as Caro walked to her car. Who would have thought little Carolina Hawkins would grow up to look like that? When he opened the door and saw her standing on his porch, he thought he was hallucinating. He'd heard she was back, and running Hawkins Racing, but he hadn't seen her until tonight.

Damn. Now he understood some of the bawdy comments he'd heard around the garage. Caro had always been pretty, but she'd also been a tomboy – smudged with dirt and grease. She couldn't go five minutes without getting dirty.

She wasn't dirty tonight. Nope. Her classy clothes were spotless with that crisp, don't-even-try-to-guess-how-much-I-cost look about them. Her father had been right to send her away. She turned into a first-class lady, and a beautiful one too. When her taillights were out of sight, he shook his head and returned to the den and the six-pack he'd been working his way through when she came calling.

He opened another bottle and downed half in one long pull. The cold liquid did nothing to ease the ache in his groin or erase the image of Caro Hawkins' shapely ass from his memory. The skinny tomboy wasn't skinny anymore. She'd developed more curves than the track at Sonoma, and those legs… what he wouldn't give to see the full straightaway of those. Preferably wrapped around his hips, or spread on his bed. Then there was the thing she did with her hair. Some sort of tight coil intended to ward off the entire male population, but having the opposite effect. On Caro, it looked utterly feminine and screamed a challenge no human with a y chromosome could ignore. He had a sneaking suspicion if you got the hair to unwind, the prim little skirt she was wearing, and the silk blouse would disappear faster than a pit stop.

But he wasn't going to be the one to make it happen. For some reason he couldn't fathom, he agreed to drive for her. She was the boss, and Dell had never screwed an employer, and he sure as hell wasn't going to start now. No matter what.

Besides, this was Caro Hawkins. He'd raced her Big Wheel-to-Big Wheel when they were kids. He wondered if she still liked peanut butter and banana sandwiches and RC Cola or if her tastes were more sophisticated now, like the way she dressed. There wasn't much about the new Caro Hawkins that resembled the one he remembered, except those eyes, and those lips. He'd been barely old enough to start noticing those things when her dad sent her away.

He'd hated like hell for her to go, but seeing the way she turned out, it was a good thing. No one in the Hawkins' garage would have gotten a damned thing done with her around. Throwing all that brewing estrogen into a garage full of testosterone would have ignited one hell of a blaze. He wasn't entirely sure it wouldn't now. Sure, she was older, and presumably able to rein in her sexuality when need be, and now that she was the boss, even more off limits than when she was the boss' daughter.

That was crap. Everything about her was feminine, from her womanly curves to the intelligence in her eyes. Her presence would disrupt a garage full of eunuchs.

What the hell was he thinking? Did he want a ride that bad? He drained the rest of his beer and let his head drop against the back. No. He didn't want a ride that bad – he needed a ride that bad. The only time he was able to forget was when he was driving – fast. The faster, the better.

The NASCAR official accused him of being suicidal on the track. They didn't have a clue what they were talking about. On the track was the only time he wasn't suicidal. Behind the wheel of a stock car, he didn't have time to think about anything but self-preservation. Get distracted for a fraction of a second, and it would be all over. That was enough to keep him focused on staying alive.

It was all the other times – like tonight – before Caro Hawkins showed up on his doorstep with her offer of salvation. Those were the times when his life was in danger – from himself. From his memories. Too much time alone with those memories messed with his head.

At least Caro had given him something else to think about tonight. His hand went to his fly and he wondered if she'd have this effect on him when he was driving. He'd never tried driving with a hard-on before. It would be a new experience. Dell laughed. At least it was something new to contemplate. Better than trying to solve the mysteries of the universe, or dwelling on a past he couldn't change or a future that didn't exist.

Sweet Carolina is available from -

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Smashwords

The Secret Life of Authors -Rue Allyn

My thanks to Roz Lee for inviting me to post on her blog.  I’m thrilled to be here and share the inside scoop on The Secret Life of Authors.

Spoiler alert:  If you don’t want to know what an author’s life is really like don’t read any further.  Just skip to the blurb for my current release, Off Limits.

I used to believe that authors led glamorous, exciting, even thrilling lives filled with fascinating people, exotic settings and heart-thumping adventures.  Every author earned millions in advance royalties, lived in mansions surrounded by servants, assistants, and adoring fans eager to satisfy  the author’s least whim.  Despite these luxuries (or perhaps because of them) all authors secretly suffered great tragedy, putting on a brave face for all those eager adoring people.  From the well of this suffering sprang an author’s creative force, the mystical power that allowed him or her to paint vivid unique word pictures that enthralled editors, agents, publishers and readers and compelled followers to beg and plead for more of the author’s work.  Despite these beliefs, I could only imagine an author’s life, and so that life remained shrouded in secrecy. 

Now I am a published author, and I know better.  If you don’t already know better, keep reading.  The big secret about the life of authors is that there isn’t one.  We are single, married, men, women, (sometimes even children), husband, wives, mothers, fathers, employed (i.e. we have day jobs), unemployed (i.e. we don’t have a day job and don’t earn enough from writing to claim it on our taxes), military veterans and active duty service members, Ph. D.s, high school drop outs, rich, poor, et cetera ad nauseum.  You name a human condition, I’m willing to bet that some author somewhere has that condition.  Because that statement about the human condition is true, then probably some author somewhere (or when) fits the fantastic description in my opening paragraph.  Most of us don’t. 

Earning a living as an author is hard work and the financial rewards may be small—very small.  No one can do the writing for you (not strictly true if you consider ghost writers, but suggest that you aren’t doing the writing, even if your name is on the work).  Writing is pretty much a DIY profession up to the point where someone else publishes the writer’s work.  And you may have noticed that self-publishing is on the rise, making the entire process from idea to point of sale DIY.  If there is a secret life lived by an author, that’s it.  

We are do it yourself professionals of all stripes with one goal in common to bring the best story possible to as many readers as we can reach. 

I’m including a short description and some links for my newest erotic romance, Off Limits, but be for you get distracted, please share your thoughts and questions about the ‘secret’ life of authors.  

Off Limits:  For Senior Chief Hank O’Mara no woman could compare with the sea until he met Lieutenant Bethany Morton. Only the sea could draw two passionate people of such opposite backgrounds together, and only US Navy regulations could keep them apart. Because fraternization between Officer and enlisted is forbidden, both Beth and Hank do their utmost to resist the passion and love growing between them. However, love proves stronger than either the sea or the USN. If they are to be together, Hank must sacrifice his career and Beth will risk the destruction of her professional dreams.

A Bit about Rue Allyn:  I wrote my first story around the age of five and read my first romance at the age of eight. I’ve been in love with being in love ever since. I’m happily married to my sweetheart of many, many years. We share the home of two cats, who condescend to allow me to feed them and clean their litter box. They occasionally permit me to pet them but demand my love and attention as their right. I am in awe of their feline ability to dominate with half a glance or a mere twitch of tail. I am insatiably curious, an avid reader and traveler. I love to hear from readers about your favorite books and real life adventures. I also love my work. Seriously, what could be more fun than sharing love and adventure with all your friends?

Thanks, Rue for stopping by today! I'm still searching for the glamorous life, determined to find it somewhere! Perhaps I should choose a different profession? LOL

Off Limits is available from - 

Red Sage Publishing

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Release Day - UNDER THE COVERS

It's here! Book 5 in the Lothario series,

 UNDER THE COVERS,

 is available today!!

Blurb - 

The Lothario, aka THE LUST BOAT, sails again!

Special Agent, Bree Stanton has big plans. As soon as she solves her current case, she's moving on, even if it means leaving her heart behind. Falling in love with Drew Whitcomb was never supposed to happen, but she has no intention of giving up her dreams for a guy who's content to spend his days judging lewd contests, and pining for his best friend's wife.

Drew's job providing security for the Lothario's owners is the perfect cover. Keeping an eye on Bree isn't a hardship, but keeping his hands off her is more difficult. And convincing her to give him a chance is proving to be a mission impossible, given that she thinks he's still in love with his former partner, now his best friend’s wife. Drew is looking forward to the day he can show Bree the man under the cover, but until that day, he's going to do all he can to make sure she won't leave him when he does.

Set sail on the Lothario for a voyage filled with sex, lies and spies, and a bit of romance too!

Excerpt - 

“More.” Her lips formed the word, but she couldn’t be sure there had been a voice behind it. She couldn’t take anymore, but at the same time, she never wanted this to end. Who knew? Who knew a person could die of pleasure? And be happy about it?

“God, Woman…” The growled words preceeded Drew’s hard body falling against hers, mashing her beneath a wall of solid muscle and heat. So much heat. His hands slipped beneath her, cradling her ass, and tilting her to a better angle to receive his thrusts. Thrusts that had been agonizingly slow, making her scream inside when he pulled out, and filling something she’d never known was empty when he buried to the hilt again, came faster and harder now. He’d heard her, or read her mind. She didn’t care which, as her body began that familiar spiral toward heaven, or hell, depending on how you viewed it. It was heaven as long as she didn’t think too hard about who was taking her there. She willed that thought away, knowing all too soon she’d come crashing back to the hell of reality.

Heaven glistened brighter than it ever had. Drew anchored her to earth, stretched full length over her. His strong arms bracketed her face as he reached above her head to take her hands in his. She clung to him as the powerful orgasm roared through her, and just when the last tremor subsided, Drew flexed his hips and buried his cock hard against her womb. The walls of her pussy had never been more sensitive. She felt every involuntary thrust, every pulse, every hot spurt. She grinned at the unintelligible grunts and groans next to her ear that told her Drew wasn’t any less affected than she was.

As good as his skin felt against hers, she needed to breathe. “Drew…”

“Huh?”

“Air. I need…” He released her hands and rolled to the floor beside her. The air-conditioned air raised goose bumps on her damp skin. Drew reached out and pulled her to him so she lay half-sprawled across his chest. His warm, heaving chest.

“Body heat…conserve…” She recognized the training mantra. Survival mode. Do whatever it takes to survive, because dead is final. She had her own survival mantra. Stay the hell away from Drew Whitcomb. She couldn’t let him see how much his touch affected her, how deeply he’d gotten under her skin. She had her plans, plans that didn’t include staying on this ship, or staying anywhere for any length of time. Drew was an anchor, and if she clung to him, he’d drag her down to the bottom of the ocean, and she’d drown in her own dreams. Her body still hummed with the drugging effect of good sex. She pushed up and away from the one place her body wanted to be right now. Only a fool fell under the oxytocin spell, and she’d fallen harder than most. Hormones made you stupid. Trusting and stupid.

“Where ‘ya goin’ darlin’?”

“Do you know you drop half of every word when you’re under the influence?” Bree squinted into the darkness, looking for her wrap. Drew rolled to his side. She jerked when one finger brushed her ankle. She had to get out of here before he touched her again.

“Influence?”

She caught a glimpse of something blue and headed in that direction. “Oxytocin,” she explained. “The cuddle hormone.” She picked up her sarong and fastened it around her, wishing it was made of something impenetrable, like steel. The thin silk wasn’t any kind of barrier against Drew’s potent touch. All he had to do was brush against her and her pituitary gland sent an overdose of oxytocin into her bloodstream – making her stupid.

He’d risen to his full height, still magnificently naked, and semi-aroused now that he’d removed the condom. Maybe there was more than oxytocin at work here. She had to concentrate to keep her feet from moving toward him. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. “You know, it’s the hormone that makes us trusting, makes us want to cuddle.”

His lips inched up at the corners. “Oh? And you think I’m under the influence of this, cuddle hormone?”

“Yes, I do,” she stated. Think. Put this in prospective. “It’s released by touching, and during sex.”

“Really,” it wasn’t a question or a statement. “And are you too under the influence?”

Bree nodded. “Yes, I am. That’s why I’m leaving.” It was a ridiculous statement since her feet were glued to the floor. Drew’s half smile had grown to a full-blown one. He took a step closer.

“Are you saying that my touch makes you trust me? It makes you want to cuddle with me?”

Oh, dear God. “It also makes me say things I shouldn’t – obviously. Or that could be the testosterone.”

He took another step toward her, and she could almost see the testosterone shimmering off his body. “Testosterone?”

“Uhm…yes. It increases in women when they’re sexually aroused.” Stupid.

“And are you sexually aroused right now?”

“No,” she lied.

“As much as I’m enjoying this little Biology lesson, I’m much better with hands on experimentation.” He crooked his finger at her in an age-old signal. “Why don’t you come here and we’ll test out your theories – again.”

“No. No, I…can’t…I have to…go.”

A movement just out of her narrowed vision caught her attention, and her gaze flickered down. Drew’s cock stood at full attention and if she wasn’t mistaken, it grew under her gaze. Her legs trembled enough to shake her feet loose from the floor. She bolted for the door and came up short when it wouldn’t open.

Damn. Locked. She hadn’t heard him move. He stood behind her, not touching, except for his hot breath near her ear. One arm reached out and punched in a code. The opaque glass doors slid open and she ran as fast as her wobbly legs could carry her.

UNDER THE COVERS is available from -

Red Sage Publishing

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

All Romance eBooks

New Release - Making It on Broadway

I'm pleased to announce the release of my wicked little short story, Making It on Broadway.

This one is guaranteed to thaw you out on a winter's day!

Blurb - 

Haylee Daniels has landed a role in a Broadway musical about a down on her luck dancer who'll do anything for another chance at Broadway stardom. The only problem is, Haylee has never danced a day in her life.

Thankfully, she has Chase Nolton, her leading man, and Broadway's premier choreographer, Carmine Romero to teach her all she needs to know. When Carmine suggests she dance nude in order to better understand a dancer's body, Haylee fears she may be as desperate for Broadway stardom as her character.

This is a highly erotic short story about three people who find love and make it on Broadway.

Excerpt - 

“Strip.”

            Haylee looked up from studying the studio’s polished hardwood floor to the wall of mirrors in front of her. Two hard masculine faces reflected over her slumped shoulders. Frustration carved deep lines around their eyes. She avoided looking at her own reflection, knowing she’d find the same lines on her own visage. The lines had been there for two weeks, ever since she began working with Carmine Romero, Broadway’s premier choreographer – now her dance instructor. Why had she ever thought she could do this? She could act. She could sing, but dance? No. That had never been one of her talents.

            “What?”

            “Take your clothes off.” Chase Nolton, her leading man, and Carmine’s partner in these torture sessions grinned. “That’s what the word usually means.”

            “I know what it means. I just don’t understand why, or how it applies in this instance.”

            Carmine came to stand between her and the mirror. He was older than Haylee by a few years, not enough to matter, but his expertise as a choreographer was renowned. He rarely took on individual students, especially ones with zero dance experience. She was lucky to be working with him, and she knew it. “Look, Haylee. We’ve been at this for two weeks. You still move like a Barbie doll.”

            Haylee bristled at the insult. “I’m not a dancer.”

            “I get that, but Madeline is, and that’s who you have to be on stage. The opening number takes place in the strip club where she’s working to pay the bills. She’s broke and desperate, and she thinks she has nothing left to offer but her body.”

            “But she never takes all her clothes off,” Haylee pointed out.

            “No, she doesn’t, but she’s stripped bare, none-the-less. So that’s where we’re going to begin, by stripping you bare. From now on, you’ll dance nude.” Haylee shook her head. “Think about it. Madeline has nothing left but her body. No money. No career. No pride. She’s willing to do anything for that one last chance to be a star, including give her body to a man she hardly knows if he’ll give her a part. She’s a dancer. She understands her body, how it moves, how it feels, how to make it do what she wants. You have to be Madeline. You have to learn these things about your body in order to portray her. I think this is the only way we’re going to get to that point, by removing everything you’re hiding behind.”

            Haylee stood statue still, cataloguing Carmine’s face. He was right about Madeline. Even though she was never totally nude on stage, she was exposed. Her every insecurity was on display. In that way, she was truly naked.

            “I don’t see how taking my clothes off will make me a better dancer.”

            “It will allow you to learn how to use your body, how to make it move the way Madeline would make hers move. Without clothing to hide behind, you’ll be more aware of your body, like a dancer is all the time. Chase and I will show you how to use your body to seduce the audience into believing you’re a dancer, believing you are Madeline.”

            Haylee looked around the basement room. Two small windows at street level had been painted over to prevent prying eyes. Other than that, there was only the one door. If they locked it so no one could come in, could she do it?
            “Take your shirt off, Haylee,” Carmine coaxed. “You have a bra on, correct?”

            “Yes.” She bit her lower lip. Her bra covered more than her swimsuit top. What harm would there be in taking her shirt off? “Just my shirt?”

            “For now,” Carmine said with a shrug. “Then we shall see.”

            She tugged the oversized T-shirt over her head and tossed it into the corner where her tote bag and water bottle sat. The room was cold; a necessity when they were moving around the room learning dance steps, but just standing there, the cool air raised goose flesh across her exposed skin.

            Carmine moved to stand behind her. He put his hands around her ribcage, something he’d done dozens of times in the last two weeks, but there had always been fabric between them. This was different. Heat seared her where he touched. “Lovely, but I think the shorts need to go too.” Haylee hesitated. “Take them off, Madeline.”

            Calling her by her characters’ name did something to her. Suddenly, she wasn’t Haylee anymore. She was Madeline, a stripper. “Madeline uses her body. She knows she looks good. She knows men want her.” Carmine’s breath brushed against her ear as he spoke. His hands skimmed her exposed flesh, warming her, heating her blood. “Take them off, Madeline.”

            Haylee slid her thumbs beneath the stretchy waistband and pushed. Carmine’s hand was there to take the garment as she stepped out of them, leaving her in her bra and panties. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She’d worn less on camera. The bikinis she wore for the pool scenes on her Hollywood Sit-com were smaller than what she had on now, but somehow she felt more exposed than she had then.

            Behind her, Chase Nolton stood, looking her over with appreciative eyes. Carmine’s voice snapped her back to the task at hand. “Much better.” His hands covered her hips. Big, heated hands molded her curves. “Move, Madeline.” He guided her movements with gentle pressure from his hands. “More. Close your eyes and see Madeline on stage. She wants to impress the man who can give her another chance at a career in the theatre. If he wants her body, he’ll give her that chance.”

            Haylee stumbled as Carmine pulled her hard against him.

“Here. Feel it, Madeline. Feel my body move, move with it.” Haylee concentrated on the movements of Carmine’s body, mimicked the roll and sway of his hips. “There. That’s it,” he crooned over her shoulder. “You see him, sitting there, watching you, wanting you? You need him. Not his body – his influence. He can do things for you, and all it will cost you is your body. Nothing more. You can give him that, let him lie with you, let him fuck you, without giving him anything else.”

Haylee moved her hips in concert with Carmine’s. For the first time in her life, she felt like she was dancing, even though her feet hadn’t moved and inch. Maybe she could do this after all.

“Give him what he wants, Madeline. Make promises with your body. Promise him he can taste your breasts.”

Her eyes flew open as fingers flicked the front clasp of her bra, setting her breasts free. Chase Nolton stood before her, bare-chested, wearing a knowing grin. She lost Carmine’s rhythm as she stared into Chase’s eyes. Desire, barely banked, lurked behind those indigo irises.

Her heart skipped a beat. Is this what Madeline felt when men watched her dance? Powerful? Desired? Is this how she stripped for a living?

“Madeline,” Carmine whispered near her ear. His hands tightened on her hips, forcing her back into the rhythm of the dance. “This is what you want, isn’t it? You want this man, this influential man to want you. You’ll do anything – let him do anything if he’ll put you back on stage. If he’ll give you a chance to dance. So close your eyes and dance, Madeline.”

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