So excited to be hosting Jessica E. Subject. She's a lovely lady and talented author! Be sure to see her amazing giveaway at the bottom of the post!
An Alien to Love
A collection of 1Night Stand stories
By Jessica E. Subject
Five HOT 1Night Stand stories by Jessica E. Subject about sexy heroes from other planets.
What do a librarian, a nurse, a director’s assistant, a housekeeper, and an orphan have in common? They all end up spending an evening with a gorgeous stranger. But, will one night lead to more, or will the women end up running away when they learn their sexy suitor comes from another planet? Find out in these five sensual 1Night Stand stories by sci-fi romance author, Jessica E. Subject.
Contains: Celestial Seduction, Satin Sheets in Space, Another Night, Another Planet, His Alien Virgin, and Her Alien Hero
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Publisher: Decadent Publishing Company, LLC
Date Published: July 1, 2015
Genre(s): Science Fiction Romance, Futuristic Romance, Alien Romance
Heat Rating: 3 to 4 flames - frequent love scenes that are explicit and described using graphic and direct language
Word Count: 55,000 words
Page Count: approx.141 pages
From Another Night, Another Planet:
“Okay, what do you do? How’d you end up on Elatia?”
“A little of this and that. Transporting small packages between planets, mostly.” Cargo no one else wanted to carry. He grasped her hips, sliding her toward him, her robe slipping up her thighs. She grasped his shoulders and stared at him, eyes wide. But no objection came from her lips, so he continued. “As for why I’m here, well, I came to meet you. Right now, I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
Her cheeks flushed, and he could think of nothing but having his way with her. He leaned forward, tasting her sweet lips. She didn’t pull away, but wrapped her arms around him. Lining his tongue along the edge of her mouth, he deepened the kiss. He absorbed her essence into every cell. He couldn’t get enough. Reaching between their bodies, he undid the tie around his waist. Then hers. Delirious, he pulled the robes from between them until skin pressed against skin. Exactly as they were meant to be. Nibbling his way down her neck, he took pleasure in her soft whimpers. She leaned back, opening herself to him. For a moment, he could do nothing but stare at her luscious body, unable to believe she was there with him again.
He ran his tongue across her stomach, from her navel, all the way up to one of her rosy peaks, the taste of tropical fruits and her femininity overwhelming his senses. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, drawing his teeth over her tender skin. She cried out, but held him there rather than pushing him away. As he switched to savor her other breast, she began to rock over him. His semi-hard-on turned into a rock, seeking out a warm pussy. The head of his penis slid easily along her wet lips, but he refused to take the plunge. Way too soon.
Rising to his feet, he laid Ava across the lounger. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
He rushed over to the gourmet spread of food before his lust took over and he ruined the evening. Collecting a selection of pastries filled with creams and small chunks of juicy fruit, he took a deep breath, trying to stifle his aching cock. Anxious to satisfy another hunger, he carried the plate over to Ava.
He kneeled in front of her. A smile radiated across her face. “Thank you. I didn’t expect the eletin to affect me so much. It’s like the alcohol on Earth. I want you, don’t get me wrong, but….”
Setting a chunk of fruit between his teeth, he captured her lips again. Their tongues darted around the juicy flesh until he swallowed it down. He licked a trail of sweet nectar down her neck. Gods, he’d missed her.
Pinching one of the flaky pastries, he wiped its cream onto her pert, rosy nipples. Hunger and lust pulsed through him, but under it all, something more. More than want. He needed her. Always had. He refused to walk away from her again. Tonight was about more than pleasure, a one-night stand. Somehow, he had to convince her to never return to Earth, to stay with him. An impossible task. But he had to try.
“If you’ve never thought of the stars as steamy, this [story] with have you rethinking the entire sci-fi genre.”
~ The Indie Elite
Satin Sheets in Space:
“…shakes your world up in unimaginable ways and Jessica Subject is showing that she can both rock her readers’ worlds and give them the happily ever after everyone is secretly longing for.”
~ Tracy Riva Reviews
Another Night, Another Planet:
“…a fantastic representation of the [1Night Stand] series. Hot sex along with some interesting twists kept my interest from the first page.”
~ a TOP PICK at Night Owl Reviews
His Alien Virgin:
“It’s no secret that I am a huge Jessica E. Subject fan. She is a master of creating complex characters, solid plots, and incredible emotions in a short a amount of time… This fast paced sexy little story is another great addition to the 1 Night Stand Series.”
~ Wicked Readings by Tawania
Her Alien Hero:
“This story is hot, funny, & out of this world. It’s a quick dose of romance in a way that makes you believe your wildest dreams are possible.”
~ Pure Jonel
Jessica E. Subject is the author of contemporary and science fiction romance, ranging from sweet to erotic. In her stories, you could meet clones, or a sexy alien or two. You may even be transported to another planet for a romantic rendezvous.
When Jessica isn't reading, writing, or doing dreaded housework, she likes to get out and walk with her giant, hairy dog her family adopted from the local animal shelter.
Jessica lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband and two energetic children. And she loves to hear from her readers. You can find her at jessicasubject.com and on twitter @jsubject.
Website/Blog | Newsletter | Twitter | Facebook | Pinterest | Goodreads | Amazon | Authorgraph
To celebrate the release of AN ALIEN TO LOVE, and four years published, Jessica E. Subject is hosting a contest for a $25 e-gift certificate from Amazon.com or All Romance eBooks. Enter using the Rafflecopter widget placed below, or follow the link.
Please Note: Contest is international. No substitutions can be made. Must be 18 or over to enter. Void where prohibited by law. Good luck!
Check out the latest Beyond Fairytales. It's already a hot seller!
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Sleeping Beauty in a post-apocalyptic land…
In a world gone mad, where little remains but a vast wasteland of sand, the leader of a troop of roving warriors welcomes a brave young woman into his midst.
Much as he burns for her, Major Clay Worthington swears to keep his distance from the mysterious woman, so sensitive even the stinging rain can wound her.
Rosina Brierly is besotted with the formidable soldier and will gladly trade her life for one torrid night of blissful passion in his arms.
But when sleep overcomes them, will true love prevail?
Does the major ever feel lust? Does he covet a woman’s touch? He never gave any sign he did. Too aloof and austere, too remote from the simple emotions of mere mortal men.
He shook her again. “Wake up, princess. The rain will come soon.”
The men looked forward to the rain. They hated the relentless sun blasting down upon them, as if they thought it would incinerate what was left of the earth beneath their boots, baking the soft sand into badlands as hard as concrete. They’d strip off their T-shirts and boots, their combat fatigues, and sometimes even their camouflage boxer shorts, and dance and play, naked or nearly so, in the slanting gray soup, laughing, tossing round balls or throwing saucer-shaped plastic discs to each other.
For her, the showers had the opposite effect. The stinging rain sliced into her sensitive skin like acid, raising blisters and sores, sometimes bloodying her.
She did not know why the major called her princess. Perhaps he didn’t know either. Whatever royalty once walked the earth had long gone, fled underground or died in battle or simply disappeared. The war engulfed every human on the planet, every inch of land, and had waged so long she doubted anyone remembered anymore. Well, maybe Nicodemus. At least he sometimes hinted he did in the stories he told. And she had seen him whisper into the major’s ear, unknown things that made the major pale beneath his weathered tan.
Major Worthington did not treat her like a princess, though, except when she slumbered, when he knelt before her in her fantasy world, his head bowed, his fist over his heart, laying his sword at her feet and claiming the role of knight. Her hero. Her champion. When she awoke, he remained one of the elite warrior breed roaming the planet, bristling with weapons like the soldiers he led. He treated her as the translator she was to him, sometimes barking orders to her as if she were one of his men, only occasionally seeking her counsel.
She came fully awake as he jerked her up from the ground and yanked her toward him. The glare of the setting sun broadsided her, hurting her eyes. Why was he so insistent about the impending rain? No clouds yet darkened the sky, although the hour sped toward evening dusk now. But no hint of shadow yet blotted the horizon.
“I can smell it,” he muttered.
Be sure to click here to visit our overall tour for some great prizes, including a $15 Amazon GC from me! That Tour ends May 31st.
Gold Book of Grown-Up Fairytales
Welcome to the VS MORGAN site. If you are here to visit the Beyond Fairytales blog hop, click here to hop directly to that post.
Title: Black Balled
Author: Andrea Smith and Eva LeNoir
Release: May 11, 2015
Genre: M/M Romance
Two dominant males, two worthy adversaries, in a business that takes no prisoners, will soon learn that fate refuses to be ignored . . .
My name is Troy Babilonia, but I'm best known as Babu, a renowned literary critic with my own online column. I'm followed by thousands! I'm a living god in the literary world. I have no filter, and for that, my flock of humble followers are forever grateful. If it weren't for me, they wouldn't know what to read. I have zero tolerance for the weak-minded attention seekers, nor do I have respect for the self-proclaimed geniuses of the Indie world. My advice to all Indie authors is to never break the cardinal rule in this cut-throat business. Ever.
My name is L. Blackburn and I'm an Indie author. My extraordinary genius was loved and worshiped throughout the literary world, until one egocentric critic tried to obliterate my career. It seems I broke some fucking "cardinal rule," and now I'm paying the price for it. But I don't plan on going down without a fight.
After all, when a predator goes after your cub, it's time to go for the throat--and maybe more...much more.
Barnes & Noble
Behind me I hear Larson, “Troy…hey, it’s…”
“Don’t!” I yell, my eyes narrowing as I stalk my prey, my eyes flickering over Floyd’s hot pink shirt. I feel insulted and, for a moment, I debate whether it’s the dandy that should be on the receiving end of my fist or Larson. I quickly decide to strike the nearest prey first. My fist shoots out and cuffs him good with an uppercut to the chin, sending him sprawling backwards, where he unceremoniously lands on one of Larson’s black glass end tables, knocking the lamp to the floor. The sound of glass shattering echoes throughout the room, and I’m not done yet. I move towards him and, realizing he’s still in a daze, I take the opportunity to snatch him up with both hands fisting the collar of his shirt, and shove him against Larson.
“Is he what you want, Larson, huh? You want to fuck the flamer here? Because I can clear out right now so that you and Pink Floyd can take up where you left off before I so rudely interrupted your cozy soiree.”
Larson chuckles and I’m not fucking amused.
As I focus my gaze on Larson, I don’t catch the quick movement of Floyd as he lunges at me with a growl. “My name is Lloyd,” he hisses, “And I believe I made my position quite clear the last time we spoke. You’re not good enough for my Larson.”
And that’s when I deck him again. Hard. My fist meets his perfectly straight nose, and the sound of crunching cartilage resounds just before his shriek of pain.
“Sir!” he calls out, stumbling backwards, immediately tilting his head upward and placing a palm over his bloodied nose so as not to allow anything to stain his expensive pink shirt. “Sir,” he repeats, “Are you going to permit this?”
Oh. Sir it is, huh? What kind of fucking weirdness was Blackburn into with this dudette? I turn to acknowledge Larson, who is standing there, muscular arms crossed and his sexy drawstring pajama bottoms hanging low on his narrow hips. He’s shaking his head, and I don’t miss the sexy grin.
My. Dick. Is. Hard.
His package is evident and his cock has made a bit of a tent beneath those sweats. Not sure if that’s for me or if the sight of Pink Floyd’s blood is getting him hard.
“Well, sir,” I say, trying to mimic Lloyd’s voice and dripping sarcasm along the way. “Speak up. Who’s it gonna be, huh? Me or your Fifty Shades of Whack over there?”
I watch, a bit confused, as Larson casually strolls over to the kitchen counter and takes hold of his beer before making himself comfortable on the bar stool. The room is silent but for the wheezing coming from the damsel in distress over there. I’m guessing he’s uncomfortably numb in the entire nose region.
“Let’s see,” my soon-to-be-ex-lover begins as he adjusts the rapidly growing erection he is sporting, “Could you start over because the view is much better from here?” Then he takes a sip of his beer and waves his hand as though giving us permission to continue.
Andrea Author Bio:
Andrea Smith is a USA Today Best-Selling Author.
An Ohio native, currently residing in southern Ohio. The Past Tense Future Perfect trilogy is Ms. Smith's first self-published work. Having previously been employed as an executive for a global corporation, Ms. Smith decided to leave the corporate world and pursue her life-long dream of writing fiction.
Ms. Smith's second series, The 'G-Man Series' consists of four novels and a novella. Her 'Limbo Series' is her first venture into a blend of romantic/suspense, mystery with steamy scenes and a paranormal edge.
Eva LeNoir Author Bio:
Eva LeNoir grew up travelling with her parents to various countries in the world. Reading was her constant companion during her travels and her ability to adapt to different cultures fed her mind with endless possibilities. The characters swimming in her head are always from various horizons with a multitude of dreams and aspirations. However, all of these voices always have one thing in common: The women are strong and independent. A true believer in the female cause, Eva's wish is to portray the women in her books as the leaders. She sees them walking hand in hand with their partners and not be the sheepish followers of the male gender. But most of all, Eva LeNoir wants to offer her readers a moment of pleasure as they dive into the world of her mind's creation.
CONGRATULATATIONS TO CASSANDRA SPARKS!! You will be receiving the $15 Amazon GC! Thanks to everyone for stopping by!
VS Morgan here. Welcome to my site! I'm very excited to be participating in the Beyond Fairytales Blog Hop.
Comment on this post to be eligible for a $15 Amazon Gift Card.
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Hunter’s Mark is a retelling of the Grimm tale The Skillful Huntsman. In original story, the huntsman hero meets up with some giants who ask him to shot and kill a tiny dog that guards a palace so they can get to the princess inside. The huntsman kills the dog but decides not to leave the princess to the cruelty of the giants. He tricks and slays them instead. Yay for the princess, boo hiss for the poor dog!
As a doggie mama, there was no way I’d have my hero do this. So I decided to include the dog in my story as a very important character.
Priss was a stray my other hero Casey found and cares for. Priss returns this care with fierce love, loyalty, and protection for his owner. Raised by humans, Casey must suppress his wolf shifter nature. Priss helps Casey keep calm, allowing him to remain in control. While a tiny, white Pomeranian, Priss has a big spirit. Big enough to stand toe-to-toe with a badass wolf shifter assassin.
In addition to the excerpt below, here are a few snippets of Priss in action.
When Hunter drugs and kidnaps his owner:
Peering over his shoulder, he [Hunter] saw the dog lick its owner’s still cheek.
“Want a treat?” He offered it a piece of Slim Jim. The pooch gave him a “f**k you” look and growled. Not so friendly now.
He raised his shades and allowed his eyes to shift, his wolf staring down the puff ball. It quivered but didn’t yield. He growled long and low, and the dog barked at him before flashing tiny white teeth. Ballsy little thing. His wolf decided to take a different tack and whined. The pooch moved and let him search the smaller man’s clothing.
And when his owner has a bad dream:
The young shifter mumbled and thrashed around on the bed. Priss pawed at him and whined, but Little Wolf didn’t wake up. Priss gave him [Hunter] a “fix this, motherf****r” look. Damn, for a prissy little thing, the dog was hardcore.
Artist Casey Smith lives a quiet life, under the radar of his enemies, until one fateful night he loses control and the astonishing image of a wolf racing down a suburban street splashes all over social media.
Hunter’s bullet never misses its target. The assassin seeks out and kills his prey with a clear conscience by following two simple rules: 1) Don’t kill innocents 2) Don’t kill shifters.
Realizing his latest assignment violates those rules, the hunter activates Princess Protocol and the assassin becomes the protector. Red hot attraction flares between the hit man and his former target. Can Hunter resist the sweet shifter in his care?
He stepped closer to Casey’s stall but stumbled over something small and furry. The toe of one Birkenstock caught on a clump of grass as he attempted not to trample the little beast, and he ass-planted with said beast jumping onto his chest to give him a broad doggie smile.
His buddy laughed piss-your-pants-hard in his ear. F**k a duck.
The target he’d worked so hard to observe remotely sank to the ground between his sprawled-out legs, peeling the tiny hairball off his chest and setting it on the ground.
“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”
Big blue eyes fringed with long, pale lashes scanned his body while strong yet gentle hands moved over his ankles and legs, searching for an injury. Oh, a toucher. His wolf basked in the tactile attention. His breath hitched as those hands glided past his knees and skimmed his thighs.
Damn, he needed to get laid after this assignment.
“Oh, my, what a li’l sweetie. Look at those freckles! I wonder if he’s got them everywhere. I’d like to lick them,” Rex crowed in his ear.
The other man chortled. “Possessive, much?”
He inhaled deeply, only to be slammed with the force of a Mack truck. Strawberries on a warm summer’s day and fresh-cut grass—shit, his target smelled delicious. He took another breath, and his brain reeled. He’s a wolf shifter, too? F**k.
Casey’s brows furrowed. “Where are you hurt?”
He forced a smile. “I’m fine. No worries.”
Casey returned the smile, his wide and high beam combined with sparkling eyes. Hunter stared as warmth wrapped around him like a blanket. He had no ammo against such a happy, open expression. The guy freaking glowed.
This is no joke.
Every 65 minutes, a military veteran commits suicide.
I'm going to be honest here. Finding Mercy took a lot out of me when I wrote it. I had so much to say and there was no other way I could think to show you what I felt. Finding Mercy is not a warm and fuzzy romance. It is a struggle for one man to learn to love again, himself, and someone else. It is a book about hope, when all seems hopeless. It is a book about choosing to step out of the dark, no matter how impossible it seems.
Combat medics have a dangerous job, and part of that job is dragging wounded off hot battlefields. They have hearts for healing and helping, and because of this, cannot help collecting a few scars of their own, both physically and mentally.
If you haven't read Finding Mercy, I’ll warn you, it probably has one of the most grisly battle scenes I've written. The hero is damaged—searching for peace and a way to start over. He is at a crossroads in his life that many vets face every day. He's in pain and a very dark place. He has a weakness for the bottle, desperate to drown memories he can't forget. For some readers, I've been told, the scenes are hard to stomach. What the hero goes through is too painful to read. I am aware I was pretty brutal to my hero, but I needed to paint a realistic portrait of the face of PTSD in our active duty military and veterans. This story has been called everything from graphically violent to an anti-romance.
So be it. It got your attention.
We cannot erase PTSD by pretending it doesn't exist. But we can move forward by supporting our military and vets, as they face those crossroads. Here’s a link to some facts about veterans and active duty military featured on PBS, Public Broadcasting System: http://www.pbs.org/coming-back-with-wes-moore/about/facts/
I’d like you to join me in raising some money for a great cause. I’ve asked my publisher to track all sales for this book for the month of April, May and June 2015. I’m not asking for reviews or a bump in the ratings. You don’t even have to like this book, but I hope you do. What I am asking, is that you buy this book April 1st- June 30th 2015, and share the link. It costs $2.99, the price of a cup of coffee. Not a huge chunk of change. We spend more than that on a salad or burger at any given time.
Starting April 1st and running through June 30th, I will donate my total royalties from the sale of Finding Mercy, an erotic military romance, to a charity that helps military and veterans who suffer from PTSD. I have to be non-specific which charity, because of federal regulations. It’s that simple. This is about something I strongly believe in. You see, I’m a vet. My husband is a vet. His grandfather served in the Navy in WWII, my father in the Air Force during Vietnam. My mother-in-law is a Marine, and both of my sons are active duty. My oldest is currently on his third deployment. My youngest, a Combat Medic, is preparing for his first.
I’ve seen the face of PTSD. It belongs to our sons and daughters, wives and husbands, fathers and mothers, grandmothers and grandfathers. It is our neighbors, friends and co-workers. It doesn’t discriminate, and it doesn’t just go away. Wounded vets need help.
Help me, help them.
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Thank you for your help,
D. L. Jackson
Check out Dawn's new release! Looks amazing!
Sloane Murphy needed a fresh start. A new beginning. She has finally crawled out of the hell her life used to be and moved on, even if it did take several years. Purchasing a bookstore in the small town of Serenity Springs, Texas is a dream come true for her. Meeting her best friend’s brother, a man she had heard so much about, was an added bonus.
Creed Caldwell is the Sheriff of Serenity Springs. His life is centered around his daughter, his family, and his job. He didn’t think there was room for anyone else in it, until he met Sloane. The attraction is instant, the passion undeniable. Until someone decides they don’t want Creed and Sloane together.
Will Creed be able to protect both his family and the woman he is falling for? Will Sloane find the strength to place her trust in another man after her painful past? Will the fight to not only survive but to forge a future with one another bring them closer together, or be their ultimate demise?
B & N
About the Author
I have a wonderful, supportive husband and three beautiful children. I enjoy spending time with all of them which normally involves some baseball, shooting hoops, taking walks, watching movies, and of course reading.
My passion for reading began at a very young age and only grew over time. Whether I was bringing home a book from the library, or sneaking one of my mom's romance novels and reading by the light in the hallway when we were supposed to be sleeping, I always had a book.
I read several different genres and subgenres, but Paranormal Romance and Romantic Suspense have always been my favorites. I read anything by Katie Reus, Lora Leigh, J.R. Ward and Rebecca Zanetti.
I have always made up my own stories, and have just recently decided to start sharing them. I hope everyone enjoys reading them as much as I enjoy writing them.
The daughter of the Sentinels pack and MC Alpha, Cameo Cruz moved across country to escape her pack—and the wolf she can never have. Making a new life, she embraced her freedom and went to school. One partying night with her best friend shatters her bubble of safety, and she’s forced to do the one thing she swore she never would…ask for help.
Quade Rainwater lives for his pack and the life the Sentinels Alpha gave him when he took him in. He’d do anything for them, even cut himself off from the she-wolf he’s loved for as long as he’s known her. When all hell breaks loose and someone puts a bounty on his girl, Quade will cross the country to protect her. Unfortunately for him, he’s the last person she wants to see.
All he has to do is keep her safe from the bounty hunters, the locals, and himself….
“Why? Why are you here?”
“Do you really think I want to be here?” he asked. “Do you think I find it fun leaving my home to drive clear across the fucking country to find you? Huh? I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me here, but your fucking father—” He snarled and began to pace. “He’s losing it where you’re concerned.”
“Well.” She gave a humorless chuckle, turning away from him. “You can tell him I’m perfectly fine.” She wouldn’t give her father or him the benefit of seeing her fear. She’d take care of the other problem on her own.
“Little girl, don’t start.” He laid his hands on her shoulders, and she shrugged them off. “Don’t you know you have a bounty on your head?”
“What?” She whirled around and stared up at him.
“The other night when you called Hui, Xavier also found out about a bounty on your head.” Indifference seemed to coat his unreadable expression and words. “There are more coming. They’ll be here by tonight. We need to leave. If I can get you to your dad—”
“Cameo,” he snapped. “This is not a fucking game.”
“You’re right. It’s not a game. I will not forfeit my life for some bounty. I’m staying.” She wouldn’t add he could stay and watch over her.
“Well, you’ve got two choices, sweetheart. Come with me or wait to be picked up by the guys who are out for your bounty.” He didn’t blink. He didn’t get angry, nothing.
“My answer is still no.” Crossing her arms, she arched a brow, daring him to say something to the contrary. She played with fire, knowing full well what might happen if she pushed him too far. Quade was not a wolf used to hearing the word no. His nostrils flared. His body tightened.
“Damn it, Cameo,” he growled, while taking a step toward her. “Why are you being so damn obstinate?”
She blew him off and pushed past him, crossing the room to her small fridge. “I’m sorry if I seem obstinate to you, but this is my life we’re talking about.”
“Is this because I wouldn’t give you the time of day?” Typical wolf. Always thinking with their penis.
“What in the hell do you want from me?”
Want from him? She didn’t want anything from him. She hadn’t even wanted to see him again.
In two strides, he closed the distance between them and dipped his head. “Is this what you want?” He nuzzled her neck and groaned. “Tell me,” he demanded. “Do you want me to drop to my knees and beg for forgiveness? To tell you I’ve wanted you since the moment you turned eighteen?” His lips were only inches from her ear. His warm breath brushed against the shell, causing her to shiver. “You ran away from me.”
“Ran away from you? I left home so I could get an education and be someone better than a thug.” She grimaced inwardly when he flinched and withdrew from her. Quade wasn’t a thug, neither was her father.
“So, I’m a thug now?” He shook his head while clenching his fists at his sides. “Are you saying when you were on pack lands you thought so low of me…of your father and our friends?”
“Now you’re twisting my words.”
“Am I? Didn’t you say you left home so you didn’t become one, meaning we, the members of your pack, are thugs?” He cocked a brow, daring her to say something else stupid. Insert foot in mouth, dummy.
“Look, I didn’t storm into your home and pick a fight with you. So…so why don’t you leave?” Brilliant! Way to go you.
A dark sinful chuckle passed his lips as he pulled her to him, engulfing her in his embrace. “You never did know when to shut up.”
His lips slammed down on hers in a brutal kiss. He tasted of danger and excitement. Of raw masculine power. Cameo’s wolf preened, desperate to rub all over him and submit to his dominance. He swiped his tongue across hers, and she became a puddle of goo. “Would you like to know where my mark will go when I mate you?”
TL Reeve, a mulit-published author with Decadent Publishing, Cobblestone Press and Evernight Publishing, was born out of a love of family and a bond that became unbreakable. Living in the south, TL misses Los Angeles and will one day return to the beaches of Southern California to ride the waves at Huntington Beach. When not writing something hot and sexy, TL can be found curled up with a good book, or working on homework with a cute little pixie.
Super excited to be hosting Thea Landen today. Welcome, Thea!
That One Eerily Perfect Song
I’m a music snob, I’ll admit it. Most people claim to be, but I can stick my nose especially high in the air since my bachelor’s degree was in music and I use that to give extra credence to my snobbery. Now, I’m not saying that I listen to nothing but Beethoven symphonies, but I am picky when it comes to choosing my music.
Around the time I first started plotting out Elysium, I had to travel an hour away for work one day. My car was in the shop and my husband works in the opposite direction, so I borrowed my mother’s old car until my car was ready. No big deal, until I embarked on that hour-long drive and realized that I was without my CDs and my phone adapter, and I was leaving the area of my few approved radio stations. UGH. WOE. FIRST WORLD PROBLEMS.
As I drove out to the middle of nowhere, I flipped through the available radio stations to find something palatable. I caught the beginning of an unknown (to me) pop song that started with solo piano. “Good enough,” I thought, since I do love the piano. I actually wound up really enjoying the song and tried to remember enough details to look it up once I got home.
Research told me the song I’d liked was “Say Something” by A Great Big World and Christina Aguilera. Living under my music snob rock, I’d never heard of A Great Big World, but I was surprised to learn the identity of the female vocalist. It’s not that Ms. Aguilera doesn’t have talent, because she absolutely does, but she does sometimes have the tendency to scream rather than sing. Here, she treated the music with more sensitivity, and I approved of the results. (I’m a sucker for vocal harmony, what can I say.)
I listened to the song again while watching the music video (and as a warning, if you’re going to watch the video, have tissues handy) and realized the lyrics perfectly captured the book I was almost ready to start writing. Spooky! It was pure coincidence that I happened to hear that song that day. Fans of the 1Night Stand series will tell you, though, that when it comes to Madame Evangeline and her services, there are no coincidences.
As I wrote the book, whenever I felt stuck or unmotivated, I would turn to “Say Something” and the music would usually offer me the inspiration I needed. I encourage you to check out both the song (if you’ve never heard it) and Elysium, and like I said, keep a box of tissues nearby!
“You’re the one that I love
And I’m saying goodbye”
Great post, Thea. I tear up just thinking about that song! Readers, check out Thea's new book! It looks so good! ~VS
Elysium (1Night Stand), by Thea Landen
Will April ever be ready to love another man?
Two years have passed since April Patterson’s husband was shot and killed in the line of duty, and she’s trapped in a haze of grief and uncertainty. Having grown frustrated by all other efforts to engage her in activities where she could meet new people, her cousin pays for a date via 1Night Stand. Not thrilled with the idea, April nevertheless contacts Madame Eve and requests the impossible: a date with her deceased husband.
Brilliant software engineer Drew Monroe created his company, Elysium, to help give closure to those who have suffered the loss of a loved one, through the use of virtual reality. Though passionate about his work, being constantly surrounded by heartache and death has taken a toll on his mental health. When he accepts the case of a young widow referred to him by Madame Eve, her tragic tale depresses him further, but he commits himself to programming April the romantic date she desires.
April arrives at Elysium and prepares to enter Drew’s virtual realm. Will she find the solace she seeks within? Or will she discover she doesn’t need a fantasy world to discover happiness again?
I licked a path down his neck, dragging my teeth across his skin. Downy hair sprinkled across his chest and I ran my fingers through the golden tufts. Firm planes and sinewy muscle defined his lean physique. Determination inspired me to examine every inch, every angle.
Roaming both hands over his sides, I peppered his pecs with feathery kisses. He was like a museum exhibit, a piece of fine artwork, and I played the curious spectator to study him in detail and show appreciation. My tongue darted out to flick across his nipple and he sucked in a sharp breath.
I teased the flat disc a little more before continuing onward. Working down his body, I flung the blankets back to grant uninhibited access. Skimming my breasts over him, I marked a trail down the center of his torso. With both my fingers and lips, I traced every contour of delicious definition in his abs.
Drew stirred beneath me and a low groan rumbled in his chest. Lower and lower I ventured, arriving at the ultimate destination at long last. His thick, engorged cock begged for attention. I hadn’t done this in quite some time, but only one way to get back in action, right?
I started at the base and used the tip of my tongue to paint a line along his entire length. He groaned again, louder than before. I laved the bulbous head with broad strokes, swirling in wide spirals. His fingers knotted the sheets and his lashes fluttered.
I paused in the ministrations. He was ready for me, yet I wanted to see his hunger. Not only did I need to know how badly he craved that intimate touch, how much he coveted me, but I sought satisfaction for more personal wishes, reassurance that I was desirable.
He opened his eyes when I whispered his name. Sweeping my hair over one shoulder, I turned back to his bulging cock. He watched me ease the tip into my mouth and a gasp left his parted lips. With our gazes locked together, I took more and more of him inside.
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Thea Landen lives in New York with her husband and a variety of houseplants. A former educator, she strives to encourage creativity and passion in all those around her, and uses writing to help inspire. Though she reads and writes in nearly all genres, she has a special fondness for science fiction, fantasy, and adventure and anything that pushes the imagination beyond its usual limits. When she’s not writing, or thinking about writing, her hands and mind are occupied by either yarn crafts or role-playing games.