Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Welcome Guest Author Katherine Grey


I'm pleased to welcome fellow Wild Rose Press author Katherine Grey. Katherine's writing about a subject that challenges authors today - promotion. Welcome, Katherine!

I’m pretty technologically inept. I don’t say that as an excuse or as something to brag about, but as the truth.  I recently moved from the Stone Age by investing in a DVD player (even though my brother advised a blue ray player would be more sensible) after refusing to give up my VHS player because I knew how to use that.  I’ve had a smartphone for all of 6 months and still have to refer to the directions to access my voice mail.  Thankfully, I don’t get very many messages.  But I digress…

When I first realized all that promoting my debut novel last summer would entail I was more than a little intimidated.   I was told to get on Facebook (yes, I was one of 10 people on the planet who wasn’t on it), to start a blog, get a website, open a Twitter account, join Triberr if asked, join GoodReads, hold contests, guest blog as often as possible, get reviews of my book, buy advertisements, put together a trailer for the book, well the list goes on and on.

Thankfully, a friend who was on Facebook took pity on me and helped me set up a page where I could have “friends” and a fan page where people could “like” me.  I thought if people wanted to be my friend, they would already like me but she patiently explained the difference between the two pages.  I finally felt comfortable enough to post things on my own without her on the other end of the phone and Facebook changed to the Timeline format.  Thankfully, it wasn’t a huge transition but I will admit I waited to the last possible minute to change over from the old format. 

With the gracious and very patient help of my fellow authors on The Wild Rose Press author loop, I mastered setting up a blog and posting regularly along with joining GoodReads, though I’m sure I’m not as active as I should be on it, and guest blogging on other blogs.

I haven’t gotten a website yet or bought any advertisements.  I wouldn’t know the first thing about setting up a website much less maintaining it and I have the excuse that paying for the initial set up and monthly maintenance fees are currently outside my budget.  I’ve heard advertisements don’t work, but I’ve also heard they do, so for the time being I’m abstaining.

I haven’t done a trailer for my book. Just the thought even attempting it sends me into a panic. I wouldn’t know where to start much less how to put one together so for now, that’s a no go too.   I haven’t been asked to join Triberr (Thank Goodness) so I have a legitimate excuse for not being on that.  It could be that you have to have a Twitter account that I haven’t been asked. (Shh..I’ll tell you a secret…I asked my nephew to set up a Twitter account for me a few weeks ago but haven’t done anything with it. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with it.  I have a few followers who somehow found me but I haven’t told anyone I have a Twitter account yet. Maybe once I figure out what I’m doing, I will.)

But I have to say in the approximately 8 months since my novel, Impetuous, was released that I’ve been doing promotion, I’ve enjoyed most of it…once I got over the anxiety of not knowing what the heck I’m doing.  I like learning about different authors, their processes, and such. I like connecting with other people who love books and reading as much as I do.  I’ve also liked learning all these new things, much to my surprise.

And just when I was feeling comfortable talking about that first book, my novella, The Muse, was released on May 30th so I get to start doing the promotional thing all over again.  They say practice makes perfect, so now I have the chance to find out if that old adage is true.

Below is the blurb for The Muse and a short excerpt. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.

Blurb:
Noted poet Blaine Hobson counts the Prince Regent among his patrons. But ever since the socialite he wished to marry took her life, he has been unable to compose a single line of poetry. With a sonnet commissioned by the Regent due in a few weeks, Blaine spends his time alternating between trying to write...and wishing he had the courage to join his beloved in the grave.

Raised in an orphanage with her sister, seamstress Emma Tompkins lives with the guilt of her sibling’s death. Accidentally finding a suicide note penned by Blaine, she resolves to keep him alive at all costs. Vigilant, she returns each day, pushing her way into his home--and losing her heart.

Can Blaine forget his beloved and return the affections of the seamstress? Or once finished with his work, will he cast Emma out of his life forever?

Excerpt:

“You’re alive.” The words burst forth with such a
sense of relief, it was all Emma Tompkins could do
not to reach out and touch the man in front of her
just to be certain.

He scowled and stepped back.

“I’m so glad I’m not too late.”

“What are you talking about?” He glanced up
and down her person and seemed to find her
wanting, but Emma didn’t care in the slightest.

“Who the hell are you?”

Ordinarily, she would have been beyond
insulted, but to know she wasn’t too late, not this
time, she ignored his surly disposition. “Emma.
Emma Tompkins.” She dropped into a quick curtsey,
not certain of the proper protocol. Her social circle
included servants, shopkeepers, and the like, not
well-known poets favored by the Prince Regent.



  Buy Links:




Monday, April 23, 2012

Welcome Guest Author Tracey Devlyn, Author of "A Lady's Revenge"

I'm thrilled to welcome my friend Tracey Devlyn, author of the sensuous romantic thriller, A Lady's Revenge. This book will keep you on the edge of your seat, warm your heart, and tempt you to fall in love with her delectable hero, Guy Trevelyan. Tracey's here to tell us about her debut release and a little about herself.  She's also going to give a free print copy of A Lady's Revenge to one lucky commenter...learn more at the end of Tracey's interview.

Tracey, please tell us about A Lady's Revenge.

A British agent flees her French captor’s torturous dungeon and falls in love with the decoder responsible for her imprisonment.

British agent Cora deBeau has spent the last three years seducing secrets from the most hardened of French spies while searching for her parents’ killer. When her latest assignment goes awry, she suffers at the hands of her French captor until Guy Trevelyan, the Earl of Helsford and master cryptographer, saves her during a daring rescue. Scarred and wary of men, Cora shies away from the one man who could heal her savaged heart.

After rescuing Cora from a French dungeon, Guy discovers it was one of his deciphered messages that led to her captivity. Guy strives to earn her forgiveness while outwitting their enemy. But will he find the scars on her wounded soul run too deep?

Tell us a little about what you are working on.
Right now, I’m promoting my debut novel, A Lady’s Revenge, which is the first book in the Nexus series. In addition, I’m working on edits for the second novel, Checkmate, My Lord, and I’ll start working on the third story in May.

What makes a book a keeper for you?
Any story that occupies my thoughts days after finishing it. Also, any story that I can read without setting it aside for long periods of time. Now that I’m writing, I tend to analyze every word as I read. If a story can sweep me away enough to turn off the writer side of my brain, it’s definitely a keeper.

Do you have any guilty pleasures?
Books will always be my guilty pleasure. Even though I’m reading very little right now, I still make my weekly trip to the bookstore and find at least one treasure to take home. I’m also adding great books to my e-reader. Then there are my research and reference books. So many great resources out there—new and old. I’ll buy great research books in anticipation of needing it in the future, because you just never know when you might need to know more about bedpans in Victorian hospitals. 
Tracey, I share that guilty pleasure. My husband's back is still aching from lugging all the boxes of books I packed during our move...he loves that I'm downloading to my e-reader now :)

Name one thing readers would be surprised to know about you.
I’m the first one in my family to attend and graduate from college.

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?
Believe it or not, right here in the good ‘ole United States. I’d love to live someplace a little warmer than Chicago, though. Someplace outside the bustle of a big city, with a beautiful lake, national park, or ocean nearby. Oh, I’d also need a romance-friendly bookstore within a 20-30 minute drive.
Tracey, you're always welcome at my place in northwest Pennsylvania...lakes, rivers, and a state park all within easy driving distance...and I'd love to open a bookstore...Pennsylvania needs a Lady Jane's Salon of its own :) Of course, it's not warmer than Chicago, but it's no where near as windy!

Where can readers find you on the web?

A few places you can find me are:

What’s your idea of a romantic evening?
I love going on dinner cruises with my husband. The lighting is always soft, the food delish, the breeze gentle, and the company perfect.

Please leave a comment for a chance to win a print copy of A Lady’s Revenge (U.S. and Canada only, please).


Author Bio:
Tracey Devlyn writes historical romantic thrillers (translation: a slightly more grievous journey toward the heroine's happy ending). She’s a member of Romance Writers of America, International Thriller Writers, Australia Romance Readers Association and the Windy City, Beau Monde, Women’s Fiction, and PASIC Romance Writers of America chapters. Tracey’s also co-founder of Romance University, a group blog dedicated to readers and writers of romance, and Lady Jane’s Salon-Naperville, Chicagoland’s exciting new reading salon devoted to romantic fiction.

An Illinois native, Tracey spends her evenings harassing her once-in-a-lifetime husband and her weekends torturing her characters. For more information on Tracey, including her Internet haunts, contest updates, and details on her upcoming novels, please visit her website


Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Welcome Author Liz Flaherty


Welcome, Liz Flaherty! So glad you're here today to discuss your new release and finding happiness.
  
Happy February! Victoria, thank you so much for having me here today and for being so patient while I arrive at the last minute, waving a frantic arm and yelling, “Here I yam!”
 
VEE-AY-CEE-AY-TEE-EYE-OH-ANN! Anybody else remember Connie Francis’s hit from 1962? Oh, no, I can’t be the only one! I loved Ms. Francis’s ringing voice and twinkling smile when I was 12 (that was the aforementioned 1962) and still do. I love vacations, too, and I’m on one right now, writing this from my sister-in-law’s kitchen in Florida, which has put on a smiling, sunny face just for me. Well, maybe not just for me, but I’m loving it even if I’m sharing it.

Anyone who’s read any of my blog posts over the past year knows—and is likely tired of hearing—that I’m retired from my day job. It was wrenching, leaving a job I’d loved for so long. I stood at the back door of the office where I worked for a full five minutes that last day, realizing that even though I’d had some miserable days there, I’d had a whole bunch of fun years. But, hey, people told me, retirement is a long vacation, and you love vacation. They were right, too—I do love vacation.
And I love retirement. I write when I want, sew when I want, do housework…well, when I have to. But wait, a few months into doing what I want, I sold a book. Even One More Summer came out January 2 of this year, I’m still busy. Doing promo, writing, revising what I hope comes up next. It’s—oh, no, it’s work! I’m sitting here in sunny Florida in my favorite sweats after a great lunch and a refreshing walk (that had more to do with the chocolate cake I had for dessert than it did with being refreshed) and I’m working. What is wrong with this picture?

Well, nothing. Not the first little thing. Because, even though writing and much of what goes with it is work, and it’s hard, butt-in-the-chair work at that, it is its own kind of vacation, too. Because I love writing and everything about it. Although I enjoy Florida and its beaches at any time, I like them the most when I have work to do while I’m here. I am the luckiest of retired vacationers!

ONE MORE SUMMER is the book of my heart and I hope you like it, too. Thanks for coming by.
          I’d love to have you visit my website http://lizflaherty.com or http://wordwranglers.blogspot.com/ where I hang out with some of my best writer friends.

Blurb:
Grace has taken care of her widowed father her entire adult life and the ornery old goat has finally died. She has no job, no skills and very little money, and has heard her father's prediction that no decent man would ever want her so often she accepts it as fact.

But she does have a big old house on Lawyers Row in Peacock, Tennessee. She opens a rooming house and quickly gathers a motley crew of tenants - Promise, Grace's best friend since kindergarten, who's fighting cancer; Maxie, an aging soap opera actress who hasn't lost her flair for the dramatic; Jonah, a sweet gullible old man with a crush on Maxie.

And Dillon, Grace's brother's best friend, who stood her up on the night of her senior prom and has regretted it ever since. Dillon rents Grace's guest house for the summer and hopes to make up for lost time and past hurts - but first, he'll have to convince Grace that she's worth loving...

Excerpt
It was no use.
Grace had taken her lengthy bath in the claw foot tub, shaved her legs and nicked her ankle right on the bone where it hurt most, and put on her chenille robe. She’d poured a tumbler full of the expensive wine Steven had brought a case of and sat on the couch with the book she’d gotten at the library when she’d read to the kids earlier in the week. Louisa May slept on the couch back, twitching her tail occasionally and smacking Grace in the face with it. Rosamunde dozed contentedly in the baseball cap Dillon had left on the lamp table. The window behind the couch was open, affording Grace a cooling breeze scented by the rain that had fallen that evening.
She’d already gotten up once and closed the pocket doors between the living room and the dining room. But she could still hear it.
Laughing. There were Jonah’s guffaw, Maxie’s theatrical trill, and the husky whoop that was always such a surprise coming from Promise’s soprano throat. Now and then another laugh slipped in, quieter than Jonah’s but no less gleeful. Dillon was there too. They sat on the screened porch, a good forty feet from where Grace sat with her feet up, and still she could hear them.
They were playing Monopoly. Grace hadn’t played that since the day before her mother died. She remembered that last game, the board balanced on a bed tray across Debbie Elliot’s legs in the room that smelled of Cashmere Bouquet talcum powder and sickness and medicine. Faith had sat on one side of her mother, Promise on the other, and Grace at the bed’s end.
“Sit on my feet a little, baby,” Debbie had said. “You keep them so nice and warm.”
Grace had won the game, and the next day—when Debbie was dead and life for the rest of the Elliots had irrevocably changed—she had hated herself for buying Boardwalk and Park Place and forcing her mother into bankruptcy.
“I made her die,” she’d told Steven.
“Her heart made her die,” he’d responded, but Grace hadn’t really believed him until he became a cardiac surgeon.
Sometimes, she still wondered. If Debbie had napped in the evening as she often did, would that hour of rest have made the difference? If Grace hadn’t sat on her mother’s feet with her eighty-five pounds of almost-twelve-year-old exuberance, would the final heart attack not have happened?
But she refused to think about those things now, nor would she consider the game of Monopoly with an inward shudder of dread. She thought instead of the laughter that was dancing along her nerve endings, and wondered if anyone else was using the little iron as their token for moving around the board. The iron had always been her favorite. She liked the way it felt between her fingers.
If she just got off her couch and wandered toward the porch like she was bored with her own company—which she was—would anyone make a big deal out of it? If Promise or the others acted surprised by her presence, Dillon Campbell would think she’d joined them just because he was there. Which was nonsense.
Of course it was.
She remembered how Dillon’s hand had felt when he pulled her to her feet the night before. She’d avoided unnecessary touch all her adult life, and one squeeze of Dillon Campbell’s fingers had her wondering if that hadn’t been a mistake.
More nonsense.
She tried again to devote full attention to the book, but finally gave up and laid it aside. She sat in the harsh light from the reading lamp and sipped her high dollar wine and listened to the laughter of the others. Isolation and loneliness wrapped around her, not new feelings by any means, but somehow deeper and darker tonight.
Maybe this time, as Promise often accused, she was excluding herself and the loneliness was of her own making. Maybe if she stepped onto the back porch, no one would make a fuss and no one would make her feel as though she didn’t belong. It was, after all, her porch.
Carrying her glass, she whispered open the pocket doors and strode barefoot through the deserted dining room and the kitchen with its ever-present light over the sink. After a moment’s hesitation, she pushed open the door to the porch.
“Replacement power. Just in time.” Promise’s smile was wide and brilliant. Welcome to the human race. Grace heard the words she didn’t say. “Now that I’ve been trounced, Grace can take my place while I make popcorn. No one’s using your iron, so have at it.”
Grace sat in the chair Promise vacated, taking the little metal iron from the Monopoly box. It still felt nice between her fingers.
“I’m the banker,” Jonah informed her, passing money around the table. “Since I’m better at losing money than anyone else, I was unanimously elected.”
“I don’t even know why I play.” Maxie sighed, fluffing her blond hair with heavily be-ringed fingers. “I seem to spend all my time in jail. Unless Dillon rescues me with his ‘get out of jail free’ cards,” she added with a flutter of eyelashes.
“I’m just a soft touch for a pretty lady.” Dillon smiled at her, his eyes glinting silver in the dim, yellow light on the porch.
Grace’s heart hammered against her ribs.
Geezy Pete, Grace, grow up.


Monday, January 9, 2012

Guest Author Jannine Corti-Petska - The Medieval Mafia

I'm pleased to welcome Jannine Corti-Petska today. She's here to share some fascinating background facts related to her latest release from The Wild Rose Press, Surrender to Honor and the history of the mafia. Welcome, Jannine!

In my latest release, Surrender to Honor, the story gives the reader an idea of how the mafia began. This book is the second in my Italian Medieval Series. While the characters are not patterned after anyone in history, the facts and nuances within the story are true.

The following article first appeared in Renaissance Magazine, issue #41. To read it in its entirety, please go to my website www.jcortipetska.com and click on “Articles.”

There is an ongoing dispute among historians over the date of the actual birth of the mafia. Some believe it sprang to life as early as the 11th century while others believe it came at least 200 years later. But what everyone does agree on is that the mafia planted itself deeply in Sicilian soil and has never relinquished its hold. 


The first known record of the word "mafia" surfaced about 1860. The name itself has garnered many educated guesses as to its origin, the strongest argument comes from Sicilian writer Leonardo Sciascia, who believes that "mafia" evolved from Ma afir (place of refuge), an Arab tribe that inhabited Sicily until the Norman invasion in the 11th century. After the invasion, they were forced into the western region of the island, leading many to believe that the mafia's origins were racially motivated. 


Scholars believe the Mafia was organized in the 13th century to fight against the oppression of the French Angevins. Their slogan was said to be Morte alla Francia Italia anela! ("Death to the French is Italy's cry!"), where the word "mafia" was made up from the first letters of each word.
Another theory came from mob boss Joe Bonanno. He believed the mafia began with what is called the Sicilian Vespers when, in 1282, a French soldier raped a Sicilian girl on her wedding day. After discovering the tragedy, the girl's distraught mother ran hysterically through the street, shouting "Ma fia, ma fia!" ("My daughter, my daughter!") 


But still another theory derives from the early times of the Sicilian feudal baron. To maintain control over his peasants, as well as protect the estates and property of absentee landlords against foreign invasion, barons used gangs of armed guards called compagnie d'armi. They recruited bandits who were generously rewarded for their misdeeds. If the bandits rebelled against the baron's guards, they were simply eliminated. 


Finally, another widely accepted belief of the mafia's beginnings stems from the end of the Norman era. Each new sovereign who ventured to Sicily first established himself on the coast by taking over feudi, or land, which he gave to other nobles or his loyal followers, thereby securing himself more power over the island. To insure his foothold, the baron would give each feudo (those awarded a feudi) serfs to work the land. To keep the workers in line, guards and overseers were chosen for their unscrupulous reputations and criminal backgrounds, and their brutal means of supervision. This system of repression is considered by some to be the earliest model for the mafia.


It may seem that the mafia was created only to offset a lack of official security on Sicily. In fact, it was born out of two basic principles of southern Italian life--the vendetta and the Sicilians' refusal to cooperate with foreign authority. Spilling their enemy's blood appeased their vengeful nature. Yet left alone, the Sicilians were resourceful, family-oriented, and content to work their land and care for their own. 


Antonio and Prima, the hero and heroine in Surrender to Honor, are prime examples of a Sicilian’s character. Although they rebel against the evil Falcone family’s extortion, their pride and honor for their country is evident. My mother was Sicilian. There is a marked difference in their culture and personality. I know first hand as I have inherited my mother’s spiteful nature—quite dissimilar from my Northern Italian half. You might say I’m often conflicted!

Here's a little more about Surrender to Honor:

Prima Ranieri seeks retribution for her family's death and loss of home and land. Her plans go awry when the heir to the powerful Massaro family returns home. After only one glance, Prima's attraction to him undermines her furor toward those she blames for her plight. 


After a fifteen year absence, Antonio Massaro returns to Palermo to find a war raging between his family and the evil Falcone. His refusal to accept his rightful position as the head of the Honored Society carries serious consequences. The welfare of the people of Palermo is at stake. But one look at the beautiful woman Prima has become costs him his heart. She's a deadly distraction...one that jeopardizes her life as well as his own.


Thank you, Jannine, for an interesting look at the history behind the mafia and your wonderful new release! Hope you'll come back again. 

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Sex Up the Holidays with Food - Spicy Advice from Guest Author Louisa Masters

December is the most chaotic month of the year. The lead-in to the holidays, no matter what you do or don't celebrate, requires energy, patience, and, if you're like me, a whole lot of chocolate. Which makes it fortunate that December is also the best month for eating.

Think about it: one long month of holiday parties. All that baking. And, for those who celebrate Christmas, the turkey and accompaniments. After eating all month long, can you be blamed for feeling un-sexy?

My advice? Use the food to sex things up. After all, sex burns calories! First, holiday parties are a great place to build the heat. You don't have to sneak off for a quickie in the coat room (although I wouldn't rule it out), just kick off your foreplay. Feed your lover from your own plate.  Make sure to make lots of eye contact. Don't bother with the fork—it just gets in the way.

I love to bake. And I always lick the bowl. Do I need to point out the benefits of licking batter off your lover's finger? Or anywhere else you fancy...

Then there's frosting...sticky and sweet, and oh-so-delicious. I always make extra—just in case it gets spilled. Or something.

And let's not forget the turkey. I can hear you thinking, what's sexy about cooking a turkey? My suggestion? Ask your lover to help you cook. Don't go naked, there's too much risk of splatter, but an apron covers the important bits and allows the imagination free rein and hands easy access. You need to taste everything as you prepare, of course, so go back to hand-feeding your lover. After all, there will be a lot of dishes to wash up anyway. No point adding to them. I'll let you work out what to do with the leftovers on your own.

Another way to sex things up that works all year round is a naughty story. My latest release, Inter-Office Relations, is one of those. Plus, it has an AMAZINGLY hot cover!

With her resignation submitted, Jeannie Price has one last task she’s itching to perform before leaving her job. After months of sitting next to hot, sexy colleague Tim Harding, it’s time to turn fantasy into reality with a scorching invitation to collaborate on matters of the flesh in Conference Room B. Then she can walk away without regrets.
Tim’s dreams of wild, sweaty sex with Jeannie come true when he accepts her offer, but he’s stunned to learn she doesn’t want to see him again after their steamy tryst. She may be trying to brush him off as just one more item on her To-Do List, but he’s determined to convince her there’s nothing taboo about inter-office relations.

You can buy Inter-Office Relations here, or read an excerpt here. And let me tell you, Tim and Jeannie don't bother with anything as mundane as the coat room!

Thanks to everyone for visiting, and to Victoria for being such a wonderful host. I'm giving one lucky commenter a prize: a free e-copy of Inter-Office Relations. You have until midnight Wednesday to make your comment, so there's plenty of time to try my suggestions and let me know if they worked for you!

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Welcome Author Jennifer Jakes!


I'm pleased to welcome author Jennifer Jakes today. Jennifer's romances are sexy page turners. Welcome, Jennifer.  

Please tell us a little about your story.

TWICE IN A LIFETIME

Be Careful What You Wish For. . .
No-nonsense stuntwoman Isabella Douglas will do anything to stop an unwanted divorce and reclaim the happy life she had, even allow her old friend to concoct a magical spell to turn back time. But when the spell goes awry, Izzy finds herself trapped aboard a 1768 Caribbean pirate ship with a captain who’s a dead ringer for her sexy as sin husband, Ian. Convinced he’s playing a cruel joke, she’s furious – until she realizes he doesn’t know her or believe they’re married.

Captain Ian Douglas does not have time to deal with an insane woman who claims to be his wife; he has to save his kidnapped sister. But as Izzy haunts his dreams and fills him with erotic memories he can’t explain, he’s forced to admit he feels more than lust.

Trapped in a vicious cycle of past mirroring present, Izzy knows they only have days to find Ian’s sister and prevent disaster from striking a second time. If she doesn’t, their marriage will be destroyed again – along with the man she loves.

Do you have any guilty pleasures? Besides chocolate, watching TV, French Vanilla coffee – hot or frozen – no, not a one. J

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

What are you working on? 
By the time you read this I should have a Free Read posted on my website. Then I’m working on a twist to a Classic Fairy Tale – the twist being erotic, western historical. Then back to work on my novel, Alaskan Heat.

Where can readers find you on the web? http://www.jenniferjakes.com

If you could wake up stranded on a desert island with one celebrity hunk (actor, athlete, musician, etc.), who would it be? Why?

Alex O’Loughlin ….and you know why!






Here's a delicious excerpt from Twice in a Lifetime: (Warning- this is an scorching hot erotic excerpt -- if that's your idea of a bad thing, please go no further ; ) 
 
Her fingers threaded in his thick hair as she traced his mouth with the tip of her tongue. “Kiss me.” 
He hesitated, then groaned and covered her lips in a breath stealing kiss. Hot, wet, silky. Her nipples hardened, ached for his touch, the tug of his fingers, the pull of his mouth.
“Touch me.” She pressed a kiss to his throat, then licked his collarbone. “I need your hands on me.”
He grunted and slid his hands down her back. Rough palms gripped her cheeks, grinding her against his erection. His gaze burned through her as he moved his thigh between her legs.
“Yes. Please.” She tilted her hips, rubbing, needing release more than air. “Oh, God, yes.” Desire roared through her, the ache building. Building. The orgasm so . . .damned. . .close.
A sharp knock sounded at the door. “Captain? The men are ready to go ashore.”
Ian pulled back and swallowed hard, his expression hungry, his heart thumping against her breast.
“Captain?”
“Yes. Yes, I’ll be right there.” His heavy lidded gaze skimmed her body. Possessive. Aroused. Regretful as he set her aside.
Her mind crawled to process what was happening while her body was doused with disappointment. “You’re still going?”
He raked through his hair, then nodded. “We need provisions before sailing for Jamaica. I’ll only be a few hours.” He stepped to the door, but turned and pinned her with a hard stare. “But when I return . . .”
“Yes?” Her heart thumped in anticipation of some explicit description of what he would do to her. Oh, but his tongue was naughty in all the right ways.
“. . . I expect an explanation.”
Izzy drooped against the door, her thoughts racing even though her legs collapsed. This was going to be the shortest second chance in history.

Wow, that was steamy! Can't wait to read it...and at 99 cents, what a bargain!

Jennifer is giving one lucky commenter a copy of Twice in a Lifetime! Can't wait that long...here are links to purchase the story:

Thanks so much for coming today, Jennifer! What a wonderful read!