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Thursday, June 30, 2011

Thursday Spotlight: Lisa Sanchez

Writing Quirks


Whether we’re authors, readers, computer professionals or stay-at-home moms, we’ve all got one thing in common: we’ve all got quirks.

I can’t start my day without a Diet Coke. My hubby, wonderful, loving man that he is, routinely reminds me how weird and unhealthy my six am soda habit is. My response usually involves a bit of eye rolling, along with a round of snark regarding his morning caffeine fix. My guy’s two large cups of coffee trump my one little Diet Coke. I’m just sayin’.

Not all quirks involve morning routines. Some people can’t leave their house without checking their stove more than once. I’ve got family members who have made it all the way out of town for a weekend trip, and had to turn around because they can’t remember whether or not they’ve shut their garage door. This last one’s a little obsessive compulsive, but hey…who am I to judge? We’ve all got our own hang ups.

Writers, just like everyone else, have quirks too. I’ve heard some authors say they can’t write during the day. Their inspiration comes only during the wee hours of the morning. I’ve heard others say they can’t sit down in front of their keyboard without some type of energy drink like Rockstar or Red Bull. One of my critique partners prefers writing when it’s dark and stormy outside.

My quirks aren’t too bad. At least, I don’t think so (insert smile.) All my writing is done in my recliner in my family room. I wait until my kiddos are in school (too much distraction when they’re home), then I grab a Diet Coke (have to have it), my laptop and kick up the footrest. My chi likes to sit at my feet while I write, so once she’s snuggled in my writing mojo is ready to roll.

What about you? Have any special quirks when you write/read? Do you need a certain snack? Do you listen to music, or do you require silence? Weigh in with a comment!

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Wednesday Spotlight: Lisa Sanchez

Romance and food––a sinfully sweet combination


I’m sure you’ve heard the old cliché “A way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” Yes? Well, I’m here to tell you that’s true––partially. I believe food can play a pivotal role in romance. And no, I’m not talking about wrestling with your partner in a vat of warm chocolate. Bear with me here.

Eating is a pleasurable experience. The moment our favorite food hits our tongue, there’s usually an explosive reaction. Electrical pulses are sent to our brain, which then translates that information into our individual tasting experience. If the food or particular dish we’re consuming is really good, we might close our eyes, twist and contort our expressions and, hell…sometimes we even moan. C’mon! I dare you to dive into a piece of chocolate covered cheesecake and maintain silence. It’s damn near impossible.

Certain foods have more of what I like to call the “hubba hubba factor.” They rev your libido, and get your juices flowing. Think bananas, chocolate, figs, and oysters (Personally, I don’t get the oyster thing. Anything that resembles phlegm doesn’t light my fire.) Smart men and women all over the world have added these aphrodisiac foods to their wooing arsenal. Wanna make your girl happy? Feed her chocolate. Wanna drive your man wild? Play out your enjoyment of the juicy strawberry you just bit into. In Dark Lover, J.R. Ward wrote a very memorable love scene involving the hero, Wrath, his love interest, Beth, and a juicy peach. Um, yeah…I’ve never looked at a peach the same way since. Hot, people. Smokin’ hot!

Have you read any memorable love scenes with food in them? What was it about the food or the way it was used between the characters that made the scene work? I’m sure after reading this post, it won’t come as any surprise when I tell you there’s a scene in my erotic suspense, Obsessed that involves a couple of juicy strawberries. Hubba hubba! I get breathless thinking about it even now. Woohoo! Food isn’t love, but heck, it sure helps it along sometimes.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Tuesday Spotlight: Lisa Sanchez

Lisa’s favorite things


Hi everyone! The sun is shining as I write this, my house is clean, and therefore I’m in a happy, sharing mood. Woohoo! So, without further ado, I give you: Lisa’s favorite things.

Chocolate chip cookies-For me, there’s not many wrongs that can’t be made right, or at the very least eased by the sheer yummyness of a good chocolate chip cookie. I’m not talking Chips Ahoy either. Give me a gooey bakery cookie loaded with fat hunks of milk chocolate peppered throughout the dough and I’m your girl. At least, for the length of time it takes me to enjoy said cookie. Call me a weirdo, but I’ll happily choose a good cookie over fancier desserts any day.

Diet Coke-Pepsi stinks. ‘Nuff said.

Victoria’s Secret sweats-These babies are soft, and warm and probably some of the comfiest clothes I’ve ever worn. I have an entire rack of matching pants and sweatshirts in my closet, and a drawer full of coordinating T-shirts. Who says you can’t look cute while dressing down? Oh, and their Bombshell bras are divine. They’re magic, I tell you. Magic!

Glee-I’m a sucker for a good musical, and this TV show provides me a weekly fix. How the show’s producers were able to round up such a diverse and talented group of individuals, I’ll never know. But, man––I’m sure thankful they did. I don’t know that I can pick a favorite character, as they all bring something special to the show. I will say this, though: Puck is hot. Dayum!

What about you? What are some of your favorite things?

Monday, June 27, 2011

Monday Spotlight: Lisa Sanchez

Bad Boy or Prince Charming?


I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I’m all about bad boys. In literature, that is. I married a prince (waves hi to my honey in case he’s reading this. I love you!), and am currently living my happily ever after. So, what it is about bad boys in books that gets my panties all tied up in knots? Let’s explore.

Bad boys want to be redeemed: Often times, but not always, beneath his stony, tough guy exterior, our bad boy is secretly hurting. Fates dealt him a shitty hand, and as a result, he’s made some less than stellar choices. All he needs is the love of a good woman to set him on the straight an narrow, and man-oh-man, when he makes the switch, is he ever determined. I love, love, love it when a super alpha male shows his softer side with the woman he loves. My favorite heroes are those that can kick ass in the early evening, and then ravish their ladylove with tenderness and vulnerability. Swoon!

Bad boys wear some wicked cool armor: I’m a big fan of tatted heroes. The following doesn’t hold true for all bad boys, but I think a good portion of the time they wear their inner pain and torment on their skin. Their tattoos, piercings etc. essentially serve as a shield, protecting them from the possibility of further hurt from the outside world. Nick, the hero in my erotic suspense, Obsessed, sports a large tattoo over his shoulder, chest and back, nipple rings and gauges. He’s endured a great loss, and uses body modification as a means to express his pain while at the same time, holding others at arms length.

What about you? Are you a fan of bad boys? Do you enjoy your heroes with a bit of bite, or do you prefer the Prince Charming type? Weigh in with a comment, and let’s get a discussion rolling!

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Author Interview: Silvia Violet


Whipped Cream is pleased to welcome Silvia Violet, who has a brand new work being released in three weeks—her second contribution to the Serve and Protect series and her first m/m story--Sex on the Hoof, featuring a stag shifter and a vampire.

Silvia has wanted to write since she was a teenager. She'd played around with stories but never committed long enough to finish anything. While she was working as a high school teacher, she made a commitment to write at least fifteen minutes a day, every day—no excuses.

"I knew I could always find 15 minutes," she explained. "Eventually most of these writing sessions last 30 minutes to an hour and after several months, I’d finished my first book, To Capture A Spy. After several years and many re-writes, it was eventually published by Samhain. From there, I kept going and did more and more market research. I tried my hand at novellas and short stories and after lots of submissions to both print and e-publishers, I landed my first contract with Loose Id."

To Silvia, erotic romance implies a romantic connection between at least two of the characters who are sexually involved, and that those romantic feelings guide and motivate the characters' actions—at least during the latter part of the story.

"Erotica is about great sex that engages all the senses and gives an emotional charge even if it's not a romantic or love-filled one," she told me. "The emotional zing might come from erotic danger or fear or pure pleasure, but it’s more than just physical sensation whereas pornography is about physical gratification."

Some of her favorite erotic authors are Angela Knight, Morgan Hawke, and Lexxie Couper.

"All of them inspire me to be a better writer," she said.

Silvia didn't intend to be an erotic romance author when she started out—she just wanted to write romance. The erotic market was just a small niche in the industry. No matter what she did, though, her characters demanded hotter and hotter scenes.

"I just couldn't restrain them," she said with a smile. "For me, the erotic elements are the easiest part of the story to write, and I truly enjoyed writing them, so I stuck with what worked for me."

"What are the biggest public misconceptions about erotica?" I asked.

"That it’s easy to write. Just because there’s sex involved doesn’t mean erotica is any easier to write than other genres. Readers and publishers still expect quality writing no matter how hot your story is."

In addition to the erotic romance she writes, she also writes erotic short stories that don't involve a romance between the characters.

"Some people would label those as porn which is fine with me," she assured me. "I would call them erotica because there is an emotional component even though it’s not love."

"What does your family think of your writing?" I wondered. "Do they read it?"

"My husband loves it and gets a thrill out of telling his friends. My parents are proud that I’m a published writer but they have only read few of the tamest of my stories."

On a personal note, I asked Silvia about body piercings—what she would pierce and what about body piercings make it sexy.

"I used to have my bellybutton pierced, and I like nipple piercings on others," she told me. "I don’t think I’d have the nerve to try it myself. I think the forbidden nature of body piercing makes is sexy. It draws attention to parts of the body we’re not 'supposed' to look at but want to."

For eating off another's tummy, she chooses chocolate ganache, because it's not as runny as chocolate sauce, but still easy to smooth over your lover's skin.

"A sprinkle of mini chocolate chips can also be fun to catch on your tongue," she said.

"What about other body parts?"

"The classic whip cream is a favorite for those suckable parts."

Her favorite food is cake—almost any kind of cake.

"I love to bake it and to eat it," she told me. "My very favorite cake is devil’s food with dark chocolate icing and pecans sprinkled on top."

However, she can't bring herself to eat raw tomatoes.

"I love tomato sauce and sun dried tomatoes. I’ll eat stewed tomatoes if I must, but no matter what, not even when served them by my prospective mother-in-law, will I eat raw tomatoes."

"Can you tell the difference between Coke and Pepsi?" I asked.

"Yes. Pepsi tastes much sweeter. I grew up having Coke at home, and it’s still what I prefer, but my grandmother always had Pepsi and when I taste one now it reminds me of Sunday afternoons at her house."

Silvia went to boarding school, and she thinks she might base a character on her roommate one day. Not only could she tie a cherry stem with her tongue, she also, among other behaviors, twirled and flipped ballpoint pens obsessively and had a penchant for redecorating their room at 3 AM.

Silvia's favorite letter is S.

"Not only does it start my name," she explained, "but it’s curvy, and sexy and starts so many wonderful words like sensual, slinky, slick, slippery, sweaty, surrender, submit, suck, spank, slam, spasm."

Baking is her favorite hobby, so she's likely to be in the kitchen when she's not writing. If not, then she can be found reading, either something for herself or out loud to her kids. She also likes to sew and cross stitch, but she hasn't made much time for either one lately.

If a movie was going to be made of Silvia's life, she said that probably Sandra Bullock should play her.

"In my fantasy life, I’m the type of woman who’d be played by Lucy Lawless or Angelina Jolie, but in real life, I’m more of a girl next door type (one with naughty secrets of course) and I’ve got long dark hair and dark eyes."

Finally, I asked, "If you could give a new writer one piece of advice, what would it be?"

"Make writing a priority. Make a realistic goal about how much you’ll get done each day or each week and schedule time for it."

You can keep up with Silvia on her blog, http://silviaviolet.com/blog/,

Lightning Heat by Randi Alexander


Cash Masterson paced in front of the open barn doors cursing the thunderstorm raging across his ranch. Where the hell was she? Toni Keeps had taken her horse for a ride two hours ago and hadn't returned. She'd gone off into the woods and probably didn't see the sudden squall rolling over the mountains. Should he go after her?

In the bright flash of thunder that lit the yard, he saw her race out of the woods on her old sorrel. She hunkered low on Salsa's neck, her hat pulled low on her head. As the horse neared the barn, it slowed, and Toni sat taller, guiding the nervous horse in, past Cash.

He jogged to where Salsa stood outside his stall and took the reins while Toni slid off. "The storm came up so quickly," she panted, rubbing her hands together and blowing on them to warm them.

"Wasn't forecast, either."

She was soaking wet, and when she looked up at him, her lips were blue and her whole, petite body shook. "I wasn't prepared."

When she reached for the cinch, he said, "Vic can do that. You need to get warm."

"No, I--"

"Vic," he called. "Will you tend to Salsa?"

The ranch hand trotted over and took the reins from Cash, nodding to him then speaking to Toni. "I'll take good care of her, Ms. Keeps." Salsa nudged his shoulder and he gave the horse a scratch.

"Thank you so much, Vic." She smiled through chattering teeth.

"C'mon," he gestured out the barn door. "Let's get inside and get you dry."

She looked at him with surprised eyes. "I can just sit in my car until--"

"C'mon into the house," he grinned. "I don't bite." Hard, he thought, wanting to nibble on every part of her. He put his hand on the small of her back, the touch sending sparks up his arm that centered low. Down in his cock.

They made a run for the house and hit the mudroom at full blast. He closed the door behind them and they each used a bootjack to take off their muddy boots. He hung his hat on a peg, and held out his hand. "Hat."

She took off the wilted straw cowgirl hat and gave it to him.

When he hung it next to his, he had to force back the rush of longing threatening to overpower him. Lord, he'd wanted this woman forever, but she wasn't available. Wasn't interested. She was just a customer, boarding her horse with him. And he had to remember that.

He opened the door into the kitchen. "Down the hall, second door on the right is the guest bedroom. There should be a robe in the bathroom."

She looked down at her clothes then back at him, her deep green eyes showing uncertainty for a second then her blue lips firmed into a tight line as she squared her shoulders. "Okay. I guess it would be best to get out of these wet things."

He followed her into the house. "If you wash the mud off your jeans, you can throw everything in the dryer. Laundry's to the left."

She walked away then turned to look back at him, her bottom lip caught in her teeth. What the heck was she up to?

Cash walked to the living room and sat on his heels in front of the fireplace. He piled newspaper, kindling, and small logs in an expert pile and lit them, having imagined doing the same thing for Toni a hundred times. When she'd shown up at his ranch nine months ago, bruised and limping, her old pickup hauling an even older horse trailer with Salsa inside, he'd fallen for her.

She'd left her husband, she explained, and drove from Oklahoma to Amarillo to work for her aunt as a beautician at the Curl Up N' Dye in town. She was staying in a little apartment over the shop and needed to board her horse.

Her eyes were red-rimmed that night, her face blotchy from crying, but she was magnificent. Small and fiery, her long brown hair in a ratty braid. But she held herself proudly, as proud of her choice to leave a bad marriage, as she was afraid of the future.

A few times a week she'd come out to ride. Alone. For hours. He always wanted to follow her, but he could sense she wasn't ready for male attention yet.

The sound of her feet padded behind him, and he stood to face her. Toni, her finger-combed wet hair hanging down the back of the robe. His mouth watered and his rod stretched and filled as he realized she was damn near naked, and staring up at him with a mix of anxiety and excitement in her eyes.

He had to get away. He turned.

***
Toni put her hand on Cash's arm as he swung away. Nice, hard biceps, just like she'd imagined them. "Your shirt's wet."

"Yeah, I'll go--"

"No, wait." She clung harder. He outweighed her by double, but he turned back to her. "There's something I need to tell you." She moved closer, working up her courage.

He looked at her with his soft, brown eyes. Kind. Always kind since the day she came here, admitting she'd run away from her husband. He always looked at her with that longing, hungry gaze, but he never overstepped.

Well, today was her day to overstep.

"My divorce was final Monday."

He smiled, a tentative curve of lips. "Congratulations."

Swallowing hard, she moved her hand from his arm to his chest and blinked up at him. "I wanted to wait to do this..." She unsnapped the first snap on his shirt. "...until I was free."

"Toni."

It all came out in a rush. "Please don't say no, Cash. We've had such nice, long talks. I feel like I know you so well, and," her voice dropped, husky with desire. "I need you. I've waited so long that--"

He cut her off with his mouth. His lips brushed hers, then his arms came around her, pulling her tightly against him. His tongue eased into her mouth and tasted, tickled and tormented every crevice. Her mind spun with pleasure as a hot ache pulsed in her pussy.

Her hands were pinned between them, and she made use of the position to unbutton his shirt, tug the tails out of his jeans, then unfasten his belt. Lower, she felt his cock, hard and ready, and she unzipped his fly, easing her fingers in. Big. Hot. Hers.

He stepped back and untied the belt of her robe, pulled it off her shoulders, and let it drop.

"Goddamn, Toni. You're beautiful."

Her body flashed with tingles as he looked his fill of her. Then he ripped off his shirt, tugged off his jeans, and moved on her. "I've wanted you forever, woman. I've needed you in my bed. I can't control myself any longer."

His admission left her breathless, and she let him back her to the couch where he laid her along the soft leather. He knelt on the floor and kissed her, long and sensually as his fingers explored her body. Her nipples puckered as he rolled them between his fingers, and her stomach quivered as he brushed lower. Lower, until he cupped her sex, then his kisses followed, his lips leaving a heated trail down her body.

He was in a rush, but she didn't care. They'd do this again, later, slow and sensual, but right now, they both needed fast and hard.

He reached her mound, and kissed, nipped, and nibbled her flesh until her legs spread of their own volition. He moved lower, lifting one of her legs over his shoulder. "You're beautiful, Toni." His eyes stared, heavy lidded. "Pink and wet. Full and soft." He pressed his face into her, and the months of longing, desiring him, brought her to a peak too quickly.

He groaned and found her clit, licking and sucking until she shot out of her body, the storm in her mind overpowering the elements outdoors. She sailed and shook and tingled, barely aware of him lifting her legs, positioning her ankles on his shoulders. Kneeling on the couch, his hard, sheathed cock touched her swollen lips then slowly slid into her.

Cash's eyes rolled back as he entered her, then his gaze locked with hers. "I've dreamt of this moment."

Her core contracted around his shaft, her orgasm building, tensing as he moved inside her, faster, more powerfully with each stroke until only minutes later, they both shouted. The room flashed brilliantly as lightning shattered around them, thunder rumbled, shaking them.

Cash collapsed next to her, pulling her tight to his chest and kissing the top of her head. "Stay the night. Stay the weekend."

"As long as you want, Cash." She kissed his hard chest, feeling his heart beat faster at her words. "I'm yours."

About the author: My first erotic romance, Chase and Seduction, is available from The Wild Rose Press - Wilder Catalog - Cowboy Kink line. I love to slip away into a good book whenever life's stresses hit. I hope my writing sweeps you away into pleasant dreams of all your fantasies coming true. http://RandiAlexander.com

Friday, June 24, 2011

Friday Spotlight: Viki Lyn

My Five Favorite Shape Shifter Animals

I once had a poll on my newsgroup asking what type of romance genre was a favorite to read, and shape shifter romance won hands down. I have one shape shifter series (The Tiger Within) featuring my white tiger, Antoine Fortescue. And even my vampires and slayers shift into animal forms.

Number One:
White Tiger and the cat family – there’s just something very sexy about sleek, muscular cats on the prowl. Quick, ferocious, independent, I love the idea of a man turning into a tiger. Cats in all their forms have been used universally in shamanic practices. Since Paleolithic times, the wild cat evoked sexual and physical prowess, psychic agility and stealth.

Number Two:
Wolf family – The werewolf is standard fare for shape shifters, and there’s a reason for it – a wolf is alpha all the way, and there’s something very appealing about the lone wolf. Before the werewolf myth was born, Egyptians worshipped the wolf-headed god Upuaut – he who opens the way. The wolf was thought of embodying the path to the moon and to opening the doors to the collective unconscious.

Number Three:
Bear – I’ve introduced a grizzly bear in my next shape shifter book. He’s a ferocious killer when provoked and can tear out a man’s rib cage in one swipe of his talons. A formidable power, the form is used by hunters, healers and shamans.

Number Four:
Snake – Snakes are portrayed as evil serpents or mystical creatures, and at one time the Snake Goddess was revered around the world. The snake is an archetype representing fertility and regeneration, and has been part of pagan rituals since the beginning of time.

Number Five:
Eagle and bird family – Birds with the gift of flight always fascinated me. What a different perspective we’d have of the world if we viewed it from the sky. Birds are associated with the time between the worlds – sunset or twilight. They can travel to the heavens.

This is my last post and I want to thank everyone who has followed me this week. Please visit my website for more information about me and my books. I also have a contest running in celebration of my latest release Fighting Chance. You can view the details at my site.

Happy Reading!
Viki Lyn
http://www.vikilyn.com

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Thursday Spotlight: Viki Lyn

My Five Favorite Archangels

Being raised Catholic it’s not a far stretch for me to believe in angels. I sometimes feel an angel poking at my shoulder and sometimes a devil as well! I’m not sure who wins out most of the time, but I’d say it’s a push and pull needed to keep me in tune with my spirit *g*. I wrote a book with angels who are anything but sweet cherubs strumming their harps while sitting on puffy clouds. My angels are dark, dangerous and cunning – but also noble, honest and forthright.

Number One:
Gabriel – I have a soft spot for Gabriel because this angel helps anyone whose life purpose involves art or communication.

Number Two:
Zadkiel – Many stories are about letting go of guilt, finally accepting the mistakes made, and moving on. Zadkiel is all about compassion and forgiveness, and we can all use these virtues in our lives.

Number Three:
Uriel – means God’s Light. It’s written that Uriel is the wisest of the angels. You would want Uriel as a personal sage – full of creative insight and providing practical solutions to problems.

Number Four:
Raziel – The divine wizard, Raziel unlocks the mysteries of the paranormal. He can help you understand esoteric material such as quantum physics (really?) and increase your sensitivity to psychic activity.

Number Five:
Raguel – This angel is the energizer rabbit – and helpful whenever you need an energy boost! Better than a shot of espresso! He’s your best friend, counselor and motivational coach.

Thank you for visiting and come again!

Tomorrow: My Five Favorite Shape Shifter Forms

To view my booklist you can visit my website: http://www.vikilyn.com/books.htm
Viki Lyn

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Wednesday Spotlight: Viki Lyn

My Five Favorite Symbols

Symbols have been around since the dawn of civilization and are the ultimate form of spiritual expression. From first glance, a person knows the meaning within herself. That’s the beauty of symbols – the profound emotions it evokes inside of us. In Fighting Chance, Corbin is branded with a symbol of his Order – the thunder mark, the Slavic symbol of the god Perun who wields lightening.

Number One:
Spiral – This might be one of the most ancient symbols known to man. It’s a continual motion with no beginning and no end. At one time ancients believed physical and spiritual energy flowed in a spiral motion.

Number Two:
Yin and Yang – This Chinese symbol represents the balance between opposing forces necessary to create the world of forms. Male and female, good and evil, and all opposites need each other for their form of expression.

Number Three:
The Hand – Being of Italian descent, I can’t talk without moving my hands. It’s a form of my expression when I communicate to the world. In some cultures, the right hand symbolizes rectitude and the left hand deviousness. Hindus and Buddhists use a system of over five hundred hand gestures in their rituals and dances. I love the symbol of the hand because for me personally, it represents creativity.

Number Four:
The World Tree – The tree connects the mundane world with the spiritual world with its roots in the ground and the boughs reaching up to the sky. It symbolizes our potential to rise above the physical and reach for the stars.

Number Five:
The Lotus – This beautiful flower grows from the bottom of the pond. It rises above the mud and blossoms on the surface of the water, revealing its beauty. The flower represents enlightenment -- the soul rising from the confusion of matter.
Thank you for visiting and come again!

Tomorrow: My Five Favorite Archangels

Viki Lyn
http://www.vikilyn.com
To view my booklist you can visit my website: http://www.vikilyn.com/books.htm

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Tuesday Spotlight: Viki Lyn

My Five Sexist Male Vampires in Literature and Film

My latest book is Fighting Chance, a m/m vampire sequel to Last Chance; although both my books are stand-alone. In FC, I have created the Kresnik (vampire slayers) and vampire worlds inspired by Slavic mythology. My vampires are from different sects and have different strengths and weaknesses. Johan, who is a strix, becomes weak and unconscious when exposed to salt. Hor, a Red Serpent, cannot be exposed to sunlight for long, and has a weakness when it comes to bodies of water.

Vampires have always enjoyed popularity among readers, but for me, it was Anne Rice’s vampire series that really took the vampire pathos to a new level of sensuality. Vampire Lestat was the ultimate sexy brat.

Number 1:
Lestat d’ Lioncourt – introduced in Interview with a Vampire by Anne Rice – here’s a description from Wikipedia...six feet tall. He has blond hair that is not quite shoulder length, and that is rather curly, which sometimes appears white under fluorescent lighting. His eyes are gray, but they absorb the colors of blue or violet easily from surfaces around them. He has a short narrow nose, and a mouth that is well shaped, but has always been slightly large for his face. His mouth can look very mean or extremely generous, but always sensual. He has a continuously animated face. Lestat's fingernails look like they are made of glass. (Nice!)

Number Two:
Count Dracula - the story that set the vampire canon! In 1992 Francis Ford Coppola’s film brought to life a very sexy, angst filled Count Dracula played by Gary Olman. In a strange way, I had wished the Count could have been redeemed at the end of the film instead of having a stake put through his heart.

Number Three:
Angel – let’s not forget Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the TV program revitalizing the vampire myth and popularizing the benevolent vampire! Wikipedia: SFX magazine named Angel as the third greatest vampire in television and film, with rival Spike in first place. They claim that, while he could have worked simply as a brooding love-interest (Buffy) or redemption-seeking hero (Angel), the character also has a "wonderfully appealing, self-effacing humour, helped no end by Boreanaz's ability to look like a slapped puppy". While Angel could be "big and hard and manly", he could also be "sulky, pathetic, in need of a hug". They also cite his poor singing and dancing as examples of his "amusing awkwardness", which "spoke volumes about who he was".

Number Four:
Mick St. John – is from the Moonlight TV series, and although the series was short-lived, he’s my friend’s favorite sexy vampire. Mick is a private investigator who was turned into a vampire on the night of his wedding (poor man!). Also, this vampire has his standards and will not hunt women, children, or innocents. Ah, a nice guy, too.

Number Five:
Johan Maier III – last but not least, I have a soft spot for my vampire! He’s introduced in Last Chance and is one of the main characters in Fighting Chance. Johan was an aristocrat in Austria in the 18th century when he was turned. Hundreds of years later, he now has a chance to regain his humanity by injecting a newly created antivampire serum. I’m jazzed to announce Fighting Chance, my m/m vampire romance, is now available today at Loose Id! You can read an excerpt at http://www.loose-id.net.

Thank you for visiting and come again!

Tomorrow: My Five Favorite Symbols!

Viki Lyn
http://www.vikilyn.com
To view my booklist you can visit my website: http://www.vikilyn.com/books.htm

Monday, June 20, 2011

Monday Spotlight: Viki Lyn

Good morning! It’s great to be here again.

During the week, I will be posting my favorite five. Each list will be related to a paranormal subject. For the readers who are not familiar with my work, I write male/male romance under Viki Lyn, both paranormal and contemporary.

I enjoy the process of world building for my paranormal releases, and quickly, it has become a favorite genre to write. I create my worlds from myths, symbols and tales of the supernatural that have been circulating for hundreds of years. Angels, vampires, superheroes, and magical creatures have held a fascination for me. I can’t help but believe there is a seed of truth in the myths that surround the mystical, and it’s fun to push the rules of fantasy and paranormal canons set down by wonderful authors such as Tolkien and Bram Stoker.

My Five Favorite Superpowers and Super Tools

I collect DC Comics. The artwork is superfine and who is hunkier than Batman?

While some stories are over the top, I set aside my disbelief and go with it. Pure escapist fantasy. I love, love, love it! When I read a book, I want to escape into another world entirely alien from my own day to day life. Who doesn’t want to believe in a man or woman who can save the world?

Number One:
Batman’s brains and brawn: What’s incredible about Batman is that he is a human who has no ‘superpowers’ to mention, but has created a series of bat toys to allow him to catch his enemy off guard. The bat-a-rangs, the Bat Mobile, and a myriad of other amazing big boy toys help him foil his enemies. Not only has he perfected his fighting techniques and created a bad ass body to die for, he has brains and is considered the world’s greatest detective. What’s there not to love about a man who is gorgeous to look at and intelligent!

Number Two:
Superman’s ability to fly: Ah, to be Superman. The ability to fly is on top of my list – to soar as free as a bird at super speeds. Imagine not having to board a plane to travel the world. The views have to be breathtaking and beautiful.

Number Three:
Wonder Women’s golden lasso of truth: WW’s golden lasso would be a must-have. It would be a fair way to mete out justice. I’ve had several ex-boyfriends I’d liked to have lassoed!

Number Four:
Zatanna’s Mind-Wipe: Sorceress and magician Zatanna has magical powers that are the real deal. She has an incantation for every known problem that arises. Zatanna is the daughter of the powerful magician Giovanni Zatanna from Golden Age comics. Her powers are limitless and not too defined but how cool would it be to mind-wipe; especially since my tongue runs ahead of my brain. There are so many words I’ve spoken that I’d like to have taken back!

Number Five:
Martian Manhunter Shape shifting – Martian Manhunter is on the same power level as Superman, but Superman can’t shape shift or walk through walls or become invisible. I’d love to be able to shift into another human or animal. Can you imagine being Lady Gaga for a day! Or experiencing the body of man? :)

Thank you for visiting and come again!

Tomorrow: My Five Favorite Sexist Vampires

Viki Lyn
http://www.vikilyn.com
To view my booklist you can visit my website: http://www.VikiLyn.com

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Author Interview: D.L. King


Whipped Cream is pleased to welcome D.L. King. Her writing has been described, in erotic romance reviews, as “Not for the faint of heart.” She used to tell people that she writes porn, but now she says that she writes smut.

"People seem to be more willing to come along with smut writers than purveyors of porn," she explained. "I suppose, if you agree that porn is just sex for sex’s sake, with no reasonable facsimile of plot or character, than no, I don’t write porn. Actually, what I write is erotica. Sex is more than integral to erotica; it is actually the whole reason for the story. But the story really must be a story, not just a sex scene. Erotica doesn’t require a love match or a happy ending, or even a happy for now ending. But that doesn’t imply that it can’t have one."

She considers several of her books and stories to be romantic, but she admits that most erotic romance publishers don't. As an example, she has a novella called The Marrying Kind, which is exactly what the name implies.

"The main characters are in love and want to get married. Really, it’s a comedy of manners, ala The Importance of Being Ernest. It’s cute and funny and fluffy," she told me. "But it’s also hardcore femdom erotica. One of the larger online erotic romance publishers wasn’t interested—actually, one editor was and the other called it filth. My Melinoe novels are also, at their core, romances. Boy meets girl. Girl falls for boy and vice versa. Wackiness ensues. Girl and boy end up living together, happy as clams. Of course they’re also hardcore medical fetish, femdom erotica."

Sexually, there's not a line in her writing she wouldn't cross.

"Sure there are taboos that once crossed would spell the death of your manuscript, as no reputable publisher would publish work including them and, truthfully, they don’t interest me, anyway; topics like pedophilia, bestiality, incest, etc.," she said. "But my work is definitely not your typical erotic romance. It’s erotica, usually with a healthy dollop of humor. My main publisher is Cleis Press, you should really go and see for yourself. My new anthology, Carnal Machines, has some very romantic stories, also pretty down and dirty erotica."

There are several writers who impress D.L., or as she said, "Make me wish I could write like them (another way to put that would be, make me feel inadequate)."

The list varies as to who might be on the top at any given time, D.L. tends to add to the list, but never take away from it. Right now, some of her favorite erotica writers include Laura Antoniou, Alison Tyler, Kathleen Bradean, Louisa Burton, Thomas Roche, Lisabet Sarai, G.C. Scott, Mike Kimera, Rachel Kramer Bussel, and Remittance Girl. Mainstream authors she loves include the team of Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child. She's also a Stephen King fan, as well as a fan of Anne Rice.

"And I can’t pass up Laurell K. Hamilton or Charlaine Harris," she admitted. "Lately, I’ve been eating Richelle Mead’s books like candy."

"Who is your favorite erotic author?" I asked.

"Okay, so now you’re gonna make me choose? I hardly think that’s fair! Perhaps I should go with an author I’ve never published, but whose books inspired me to begin writing erotica: G.C. Scott. I remember reading The Passive Voice and His Mistress’s Voice and thinking how very accessible they were. His books have turned me on something fierce while, at the same time, giving me the idea to try my hand at writing erotica. Reading G.C. Scott is what got me started writing."

"What about your favorite erotic book?"

"Again with the forced choices! I have several favorites. As a 'go to' book, when I’m not using my book, The Melinoe Project (which really is my 'go to' book of choice) I might pick one of the Beauty books by Anne Rice (A.N. Roquelaure) and His Mistress’s Voice remains one of my favorites. Right now, I’m also in love with Rachel Kramer Bussel’s femdom anthology, Please, Ma’am."

D.L. does a lot of research for her books. While a lot of what she writes is based on personal knowledge and/or experience, quite a bit is based on research. She has written two novels that centered around medical fetish, but because she's not a doctor she had to do a lot of research with them.

"I don’t want anyone reading anything I wrote and saying, 'Hey, wait a minute, that’s not the way that works,' and then throwing the book against the wall. I know I get pretty upset when I read something I know to be false. If I see too much of that, I’ll stop reading, even if I like the story. So I really try not to do that to my readers."

She also admitted, however, that research is a good way to procrastinate.

"I can spend, literally, hours on the computer looking up 'stuff.' It might be stuff I need or it might be stuff that stuff I need has led me to. It can be very fascinating—and very time consuming, or should I say time-wasting? Here’s a little-known secret: Writers are big procrastinators. Yep, it’s true. Most of us can spend hours, days, even weeks not writing. There’s research and then dishes to do. Grocery shopping must be done and then I really have to meet my friends at the bar because I haven’t done that recently enough and they’re going to think I don’t love them anymore. I have to catch up on email and all the projects people have asked me to do. The house needs cleaning and I really want to watch the latest episode of Fringe or Castle or Vampire Diaries. Wait, when was that deadline??? (We’re also good for going off on tangents. What was that question, again?)"

D.L. does most of her research on the Internet, but does have several reference volumes on her desk. One of her favorites is The Oxford Dictionary of Foreign Words and Phrases. She also has the complete works of Shakespeare, Rodale’s Synonym Finder, Strunk and White, the OED of Current English and the OED Thesaurus.

"I don’t think you need any special reference books to write erotica, specifically; good writing applies to all genres and good writing is grounded in a good grasp of the language and its rules," she told me. "Any special bits of knowledge one needs, such as what happens in a real BDSM club or how a guy feels just before he achieves orgasm, etc, can be researched in bed, interviewing friends and experts and online. But, get it right, because people will know if you don’t!"

On a person note, I asked D.L. what food she considered best for eating off another's tummy.

"I’d have to say whipped cream, and I’m seriously not just sucking up. But what better thing is there for eating off another’s body? Whipped cream, when used judiciously, stays put until you lick it off. I’m not big on messes. I would be completely appalled at a sploshing party. I really would. And that’s why I say, whipped cream. I briefly thought about honey, but honey runs—and is awfully sticky. No, I’ll stick with whipped cream and I’ll enjoy eating it off of several different body parts, especially the ones you can dip in it. As an aside, I did once eat a homemade chocolate truffle off of a body at a party. That was a lot of fun, actually."

For her favorite food, however, she said, "Here’s a little known fact about me. I don’t like chocolate. Well, not very much. It isn’t something I would choose to eat. I prefer vanilla (cakes, frosting and ice cream, not sex). But that’s not what you asked. I enjoy savory food, rather than sweet food. I prefer pizza, potato chips, braised short ribs and even lima beans to cake, ice cream, candy, custard and pudding. But, when it comes to my favorite food, I’d have to say foie gras; I go positively weak in the knees for foie gras. I prefer goose, but duck will do in a pinch!"

Ironically, given her choice of favorites, she cannot bring herself to eat sweetbreads. "Really, liver and sweetbreads are not the same—not the same at all," she declared.

When D.L. not writing (or "being slothful" as she put it), she likes lying around on the couch watching TV, but doesn't get the chance to do that very often. She has a day job and usually writes when she comes home from work. Depending on the time of year, she can also be found in her garden or entertaining friends. She loves to grill and cooks just about every dinner outside as soon as the weather permits.

"I also really like to read outside, when the weather’s nice, with some cheese and crackers and a glass of wine," she told me.

Finally I asked her, "If someone were to play you in a movie, what actor would it be and why?"

"First, why would someone be playing me in a movie? I think they should be playing one of my characters, that would be a lot more interesting than watching some famous actor lying around, watching TV, weeding or reading. I’m just saying…

"But, if someone had to play me, I’d like it to be Angelina Jolie, ‘cause she’s really hot! I think she should play me the way she played Lara Croft in the Tomb Raider movies. Or, if not Angelina Jolie, maybe Jessica Alba or Jennifer Garner, for the same reasons. By the way, none of them look anything like me, but really, in the grand scheme of things, is that important?

"In actuality, if someone wanted to play the bossy, writer me, Kathy Bates would be a good bet. But, all things equal, I’d like to see Angelina Jolie play me.

"Thanks so much for the opportunity to talk to your readers. It’s been a lot of fun."

You can keep up with D.L. on her blog, http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2876426.D_L_King/blog

Addicted by Wendi Zwaduk


The scent of figs and musky man swirled around Aspasia when she shifted and surfaced from sleep. She cracked her eyelids open, taking in the details of the room. Walls the color of olive tree bark enveloped her in warmth. Brightly colored tapestries of people she did not recognize filled the space. She froze when a hairy leg tangled with hers. Forcing her gaze from the tapestries to the person next to her, she gasped.

Gregorius. He came.

Dark lashes fanned over his pale cheeks. A dusting of crisp dark hair covered the cleft in his strong chin. His masculine lips parted as he breathed. She longed to run her fingers through his unruly tresses.

“Gregorius.” She whispered his name, more to make sure he was real and not just a figment of her imagination than from any other reason.

“Good morning.” His eyes, the color of rain moistened soil, opened slowly. The dimple in his cheek deepened as he tucked his hand under his cheek and grinned. “I feared I’d lost you for good.”

Her face flushed. “Me?” She closed her eyes to hide her embarrassment. She pressed her lips together and wriggled in the blankets to get out of bed.

“Aspasia, you are safe here with me.” His hand smoothed over her jaw. “Stay.”

Opening her eyes, she sucked in a ragged breath. His gaze saw beyond her hurt, down deep to her soul, making her shiver. She wrapped her trembling arms around her body and stared over his shoulder. “He will come for me.”

“What are you running from, my love?” Gregorius’ words brought her attention back to his face. A sparkle brightened his dark irises.

“Visius.” Shame slammed through her. “I am his pleasure slave.”

Once again, she closed her eyes. If she did not look at him, she could not see the pity. After all the years apart, the last thing she wanted from him was empathy because she had done things with her body he could not conceive. She wanted his love, the pristine, delicate first blossom of desire to build into a true devotion. Nothing would erase her dismal past.

“No more!” His gruff voice shook her to her bones. She peeked through her lashes. Rage and hatred burned in the dark depths of his eyes. She flinched. No more? Would he hurt her as Visius did? Did he want her as his own slave? Goddess, no.

Tipping her gaze to his, Gregorius smoothed his thumb across her bottom lip. “Look at me.” When she acquiesced, he continued. “How much has he hurt you, love?”

She blinked and processed his words. Did he just call her love, not once, but twice? Her mind went blank for a heartbeat. No, she needed to answer him. “I cannot say.”

“You had your strong will broken.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “How did you come to be the bastard’s property? Your father cared too much to sell you. I know he loved you.”

Staring at Gregorius’s lips, she mulled over her decision to talk. If she divulged everything, he would institute retribution on Visius. Her former master deserved whatever payback Gregorius could devise.

“Aspasia, tell me the truth.” His voice soothed her fraying nerves.

“Visius cheated my father out of funds.” She fisted her hands to hide the anger spiraling though her veins. A sob erupted from her throat. “When my father died, Visius demanded I be the payment for his losses!” Closing her eyes, she turned away from Gregorius. Now he knew her dismal story. Tears streaked across the bridge of her nose.

“Do not cry, Aspasia.” Gregorius cupped her face in his large hands, warming her cheeks. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you, but it ends with me. Damned war.”

She met his heated gaze when she opened her eyes. Ends with him?

“My wealth means nothing if I can’t have you.”

His words stung. Did he understand his meaning? Did he expect her to act as his pleasure slave? She swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. “Visius is too powerful. You should have a better woman than me.”

“No other woman could take your place in my heart.” Gregorius smoothed his thumb over her bottom lip as he cradled her skull in his hands. “I will give everything to have you. I lost a part of my soul when I learned you were not serving in the markets—when I thought you no longer cared for me.”

Her heart pounded in her chest. He cared. Just as quickly, her spirits drooped. “I am not a citizen. You cannot have me as anything other than a slave.”

“I can love whomever I choose.”

Love? Had she heard him correctly—again? She sucked in a ragged breath. “Gregorius.”

“You are a freed woman in my home.” He rubbed his nose along her cheek. “Yes, the laws state you must be a citizen in order for us to marry, but rules are meant to be broken.”

More tears pricked behind her eyes. All her dreams seemed possible and yet, once Visius learned of her whereabouts, nothing good would come of his actions.

He placed a kiss to the very corner of her mouth, teasing her. “Your spark and fire draws me in.” Taking her hand in his, he nipped each finger and laved his tongue over the soft bites. “I find myself addicted to you, Aspasia.” His kisses trailed down her bare arm. “You fill my dreams and my fantasies.” His erection stabbed her thigh. “You may have all of me. I am yours.”

He tilted her chin to crush his mouth over hers. She mewled, wanting him everywhere. When she opened to him, his tongue melded with hers in a sweetly sensual dance. Twining her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer. Of all the times she had sex with men to prevent the wrath of Visius, this mating, this joining seemed real. Tumbling head over heels, she fell more in love with the man in her embrace.

She panted when he broke for air. Gregorius smoothed rogue locks of hair from her forehead. “Since the day at the market when I was a mere sixteen years, I knew I would have you—not only in my bed, but as my wife. I love you, Aspasia and will forever.” He tugged the cotton blankets from her body. “Let me show the depths of my love for you.”

Her breath became ragged as Gregorius smoothed through her hair. “I will never harm you.” He feathered kisses over her lips. The coil of tension in the pit of her stomach lessened a bit. When his tongue danced over the seam of her mouth, she gasped and granted him entrance. He caressed her hip, sending a shimmer of heat racing along her veins. She pressed her thighs together, in a vain attempt to stave off the beginnings of the orgasm. When he touched the outcropping of curls at her core, she wriggled closer. No holding back any longer.

“My love, you are so sexy,” he murmured and slid the sheet from her body. “Every bit of you.” Starting at her throat, he blazed a trail of fire down her body to her nipples. “Tell me you like this,” he murmured, his voice a sensual rasp.

Like? Words couldn’t describe how much she enjoyed him. She moaned as he flicked the tightened beads. He sucked one turgid tip into his mouth and she felt the pull down between her legs. She gathered her wits as Gregorius moved lower to her navel. Goddess, yes.

“I want to taste you.”

She stared at the ceiling. Every muscle in her body wound tight as his tongue dived into her core. Flat licks, slow caresses, gentle sucking combined to frazzle every part of her being. She cried out, but no sound filled the room. Stars sparkled behind her closed eyes and she panted.

He swirled his tongue over her clit, licking and feasting on her. Warmth flooded her body and ebbed low in her belly. The breath she held blew past her lips as she reached orgasm. She threaded her fingers into his hair.

When the tremors began to subside, Gregorius peeked at her. “Did I please you?”

“Yes.” She spoke through a passion-induced haze.

Leaving kisses in his wake, he sidled up next to her. Gregorius covered their bodies in the blanket and wrapped his arm across her belly. “Rest. We have all night to make love, my beloved.”

“I love you.” Aspasia succumbed to sleep, knowing she’d found her way back to her lover’s arms.

About the author: I always dreamed of writing the stories in my head. Tall, dark, and handsome heroes are my favorites, as long as he has an independent woman keeping him in line. I tend to write books with titles taken from songs because music is one of my many muses. I earned a BA in education at Kent State university and as well as a Masters in Education from Nova Southeastern University. I've tried my hand at teaching, waitressing, and retail sales, but writing holds my heart. I love NASCAR, romance, books in general, Ohio farmland, dirt racing, and my menagerie of animals. I have six books under contract and more than my brain can handle percolating. I can't wait to share them with you! http://www.wendizwaduk.com http://wendizwaduk.blogspot.com

Friday, June 17, 2011

Friday Spotlight: Gail Koger

Just My Luck - Excerpt

It ends now.

Every cell in my body went on red alert. Uh-oh. I unfastened my harness and scrambled out of the chair. My frantic gaze searched for some place to hide. Damn, did it have to be such an itty bitty ship?

With unhurried movements, Talree undid his harness and stood.

I stared up at him. Did he have to be so fucking big? Why me? There have to be thousands of women on your world begging for the chance to be with you.

Something primal and carnal flared to life in his fierce stare. I desire only you.

Yeah, well, disappointment’s a bitch, but you’ll get over it.

I jumped as invisible fangs suddenly nipped at my neck. Stay the hell away from me.

Or what?

Phantom hands caressed my breasts and a thumb feathered my nipples. My body clenched in reaction.

Come to me.

I took an involuntary step forward as liquid fire raced through my body. No! I backed up as the horrible truth hit me. If he took me, I would be his forever. I don’t have sex with strangers.

Not a stranger. I am your mate.

I shuddered as a ghostly mouth began sucking my right nipple. We’re not even the same species. Our parts won’t fit.

They will fit.

I hissed as mental fingers slid down my stomach and glided between my legs. An electric shock jerked my body as the fingers penetrated me. Stop it, you horny bastard.

But you are such a tasty meal. He moved towards me, a predator stalking his prey. Take off your clothes.

No. I moaned as the fingers moved deeper inside me and my body began to vibrate with need.

A hot tongue licked my clit. I clenched my fists as lightning arced through me. Another lick and my knees buckled. I crumpled to the floor as I rode a crest of pleasure so intense I thought I would explode. “Oh, God. Oh, God, I’m so screwed.”

Yes. Talree tilted my head up and fastened his mouth on mine. Whoa! Kissing was universal. Who knew?

A growl of annoyance sounded in my head as Talree’s tongue invaded, tasted, possessed. He began thrusting into my mouth, the rhythm matching the movement deep inside me.

I was dimly aware of him unbuttoning my shirt. A part of me was screaming blue bloody murder. Another part of me welcomed his invasion, embraced it.

My mom’s voice suddenly echoed in my head. ‘Kaylee, sweetie, a lady does not allow a guy to tongue fuck her on the first date.’ Mom? Omigod! What was I doing? I fought off his sensual web and jabbed my thumb into the hollow in his neck.

Talree made a funny choking noise and released me. Hot dang! It worked. I scrambled to my feet and made a mad dash for the weapons locker.

With a roar of fury, he lunged after me and grabbed my arm. I twisted, used his
forward momentum against him and hurled him over my shoulder.

He bounced off the wall and rolled to his feet. A mocking laugh filled my head, Nice move, little one. But it will not save you.

He vanished and a second later massive arms wrapped around me, lifting me off my feet. Cheater!

I kicked wildly as he shucked off my boots and pants. No! I won’t be raped.

Not rape. Claiming. His mind ruthlessly seized control of me, branding me, claiming me body and soul until it was impossible to know where he started and I ended. His hands and mouth moved over me possessing, consuming every inch of my skin.

My body convulsed as he thrust inside me. Something struck my womb and penetrated it. I screamed as corkscrews of fire ravaged my body.

Mine, Talree roared in my head, bucking into me again and again. The world shattered and spun away.

Spasm after spasm shook me as I fought to get my breath back and my swirling senses under control. Lordy. Was it possible to die from sex?

I hurt in unexpected places and the knowledge that he could take control of my mind scared the living bejesus out of me. I had to get away from him.

Hard hands clamped around me. Still, you fight me.

I opened my eyes and glared at him. Get off me.

You are my mate. The bond we now forge is unbreakable.

Unbreakable! You mean… A till death do us part kinda thing?

Yes, my touch will become necessary. You will come to crave it.

Not happening. I gasped as something inside me hardened and grew larger. He began to move, possession in every stroke.

I whimpered as explosions of pleasure overrode my survival instincts. I couldn’t stop myself from moving with him, touching him, kissing him. Our minds merged and we became as one.

www.whispershome.com

Watch the trailer for The Nasty Vamp and answer one simple question. What does our heroine want for her 21st birthday? Up for grabs is genuine, authentic Navajo Indian necklace I bought at Monument Valley. Click on the link below, answer the question correctly and you're put in the drawing. Simple, huh?


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TrI2eRVIOe8

Send your reply to gkoger58@q.com and put in the subject field: WC Trailer Contest.

The drawing will be held June 28th and the winner will be posted at the author's blog at www.whispershome.com

Good luck!

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Thursday Spotlight: Gail Koger

Freaky Friday

By

Gail Koger


It was Friday the 13th but I wasn’t worried. I mean, everyone knows it’s a bunch of superstitious nonsense. C’mon, what’s the worst that could happen? Fate, that sadistic bitch, laughed hysterically.

Still believing this was just another ordinary day I pulled into a 7-11 convenience market parking lot for a badly needed caffeine fix. There’s nothing scary about a 7-11, right? Did I mention this particular 7-11 was in a seedy part of town? One look at the graffiti decorating the walls and sidewalks should have discouraged me. But, oh no, I needed my fix.

The second I stepped out of my car a scrawny dude wearing a long black trench coat and carrying a really big stick sprinted towards me. OMG! I’m gonna die. My heart pounding, I scurried inside and smiled at the nice armed security guard. This was my second clue that I hadn’t stopped at a “normal” store.

I headed for the coolers and realized the scrawny dude had followed me. Practically glued to my back side, he gushed, “I just love your fingernail polish.”

Say what? I gave him a polite smile and power walked to the cash register. Unfortunately, he was still glued to my backside. “Seriously dude, you’re invading my space.”

His response? “Where did you get that fabulous polish?”

Was this some kind of cosmic joke? “Uh, at JC Penney’s. Why?”

He giggled insanely. “Oh, I just have to get me some.”

“Okay, bye-bye.” I ran out to my car and locked the doors. Whoa! Talk about freaky weird.

A block down the street my tire warning light suddenly popped on. Thump. Thump. Thump. I pulled into the only remaining full service gas station left in area and yep. It’s flat and is that a spoon sticking out of my tire? The attendant nods. “Yes ma’am. That’s a spoon.” What are the odds of that happening?

Should I risk a trip to the supermarket? I was out of chocolate and nothing stood between me and my chocolate. Not even a few freaky coincidences.

I walked confidently into the store, got my shopping cart and strolled down the aisles. I checked my shopping list and reached for a quart of low fat milk. There was an ominous snapping noise as the front clasp on my bra broke and out popped the girls. Did I mention I’m well endowed? Too well endowed to ever go braless, plus my girls were starting to migrate south. Not a pretty sight.

Okay, the stock boy ogling my chest didn’t seem to be traumatized in the least. In fact he was downright enjoying the show. I shoved the cart at him, clamped my purse over the girls and fled the store. I might not be a superstitious coward but I knew when to wave the white flag. Fate had won.

Watch the trailer for The Nasty Vamp and answer one simple question. What does our heroine want for her 21st birthday? Up for grabs is genuine, authentic Navajo Indian necklace I bought at Monument Valley. Click on the link below, answer the question correctly and you're put in the drawing. Simple, huh?


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TrI2eRVIOe8

Send your reply to gkoger58@q.com and put in the subject field: WC Trailer Contest.

The drawing will be held June 28th and the winner will be posted at the author's blog at www.whispershome.com

Good luck!

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Wednesday Spotlight: Gail Koger

The Universe’s Deadliest Warriors
by
Gail Koger



“Today we’re talking with three of universe’s deadliest warriors. Zarek, Overlord of the Coletti Clans; his son Talree, also a Warlord; and Ian McGregor, a Highland warrior turned way back in 1186. Gentlemen, and I’m using this term loosely, please remember we have a no biting, fighting or mind control clause in our contract.”

Three sets of dangerously predatory eyes locked on me. “Okey-dokey, moving right along; Zarek, how did you meet your mate, Detja?

Zarek’s smile was the scariest thing I’d ever seen. “She stole a Ditrim crystal from me and gave me the one finger salute as she made her getaway. That’s when I knew she was the one for me.”

“Then why did it take you, the ultimate predator, over six months to track Detja down.”

“She’s a very resourceful thief.” There was pride in Zarek’s voice.

“Detja was furious when you bought her from her father for the unbelievable price of one credit. Is it true this itty-bitty female managed to drug you, the most feared Warlord in the galaxy, lock you in a shipping container and put you on a ship bound for a penal colony?

The Overlord bared his fangs menacingly. “Her actions were unexpected but added spice to the chase.”

“Right, I imagine your ego was a bit dented?”

“Not at all, I was intrigued. I had lost two mates to the Alliance hunters and Detja’s ability to take care of herself made her the perfect mate.”

“Your home planet, Tanis, was almost destroyed six hundred years ago. My sources say that the chemicals used in the Great War created a genetic anomaly and only one female baby is born for every one thousand males. Faced with extinction you now raid other species for their women. Is that true?”

“For hundreds of years the Alliance High Command has put all their resources into exterminating our entire race. I take as many psychic females as necessary to ensure our survival.”

“And if they are unwilling?”

“Once the mate bond kicks in they belong to us mind, body and soul.”

“There’s no escape for these captive brides?”

“None.” Zarek eyed me like I was fresh meat and he was a hungry lion. “You have psychic abilities.”

“No! I don’t. You’re mistaken.”

“I never make mistakes.”

Crap. Kaylee was right. Zarek did make Darth Vader look like Little Orphan Annie. Swallowing hard, I quickly turned to Talree. “Warlord, how did you meet Kaylee?”

“Kaylee’s a Siren. She’s used her psychic abilities as an early warning system to keep Earth safe from the Tai-Kok and Rodan. She was mentally scanning her section of space for the Tai-Kok when I sensed her and I knew instantly she was my mate.”

“Wow! Just like that, huh? Then why did Kaylee say and this is a direct quote, ‘I had an alien asshole stuck in my head who had a regrettable tendency to growl like a pit-bull.’”

“She was reluctant at first to accept me as her mate but I quickly changed her mind.”

“You mean when you generously offered to save Earth from annihilation?”

“Yes. The fate of both our worlds is intertwined. We must work together to stop my brother Malik and the Tai-Kok from destroying the galaxy.”

“Then why is Earth still on your to do list to conquer?”

Both Warlords said in unison, “We do what we must to ensure the survival of our people.”

A warning growl sounded from McGregor. “Conquer my world? Think again.”

With the eyes of death itself, Zarek and Talree rose from their chairs. “You think you can defeat us, vampire?”

“Whoa! Hold on a minute. No fighting. Remember?”

Talree flashed his fangs at me. “You think you can stop us, female?”

Oh hell no. “Please sit down. You do remember the penalty clause in the contract, right?”

All three warriors reluctantly sat down.

“Mr. McGregor you met your mate, Bunny, when you crashed her twenty-first birthday party. You got her drunk, seduced her and stole her powers. That was pretty damned sleazy, wasn’t it?”

His electric blue gaze zeroed in on me. “I did what was necessary to save her life.”

“Your woo-woo shit won’t work on me.” I held up the Karok medallion Bunny had loaned me, smiled at the feral look in his eyes and plowed on, “Bunny retaliated by blowing up a garage full of your expensive vintage cars.”

“Aye, she is a little she demon.”

“Bunny also skunked your 1964 Ford Cobra Shelby. That had to make you a bit angry.”

“Very angry. Challenging a Highland warrior is never a good idea.”

“You told her that you were going to hunt her down and fuck her till she screamed.”

“Aye and I did.”

I squirmed in my seat. Ian McGregor was one sexy dude. I quickly changed the subject. “What’s the greatest change you’ve seen in your eight hundred years?”

“Cars. Automobiles are mankind’s greatest invention.”

“Bunny told me you have over a thousand of them.”

“Aye, I’m a bit of a collector.”

“I’d thought a Highland warrior would feel more comfortable with a mighty steed between his legs.”

“I prefer a woman between my legs.”

Yikes. I fought down the urge to giggle hysterically and blush like a school girl. Bunny was right; he did give Don Juan a run for his money. “Gail Koger wrote all three of your stories. How did you meet her?”

“I saw the terrific job she did on writing the alien assholes stories and put the whammy on her. She just finished The Nasty Vamp."

“What’s Gail like?”

“She’s a bit nuts but if you ignore the twitch in her left eye and keep her supplied with chocolate she’s good.”

“How can our readers find you and buy your book?”

The Nasty Vamp will be available at Whispers Publishing on June 10th.”

A low growl sounded from Talree. “His book is not fit to be read. You will buy our books, Just My Luck and The Warlord’s Comeuppance at www.whispershome.com or www.gailkoger.com."

“Any thing else you gentlemen want to add?”

“Buy our books or we will destroy Earth.”

“I’m outta here.”

Watch the trailer for The Nasty Vamp and answer one simple question. What does our heroine want for her 21st birthday? Up for grabs is genuine, authentic Navajo Indian necklace I bought at Monument Valley. Click on the link below, answer the question correctly and you're put in the drawing. Simple, huh?


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TrI2eRVIOe8

Send your reply to gkoger58@q.com and put in the subject field: WC Trailer Contest.

The drawing will be held June 28th and the winner will be posted at the author's blog at www.whispershome.com

Good luck!

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Tuesday Spotlight: Gail Koger

J. A. “DAD” RUDD


James “Alex” Rudd was born December 21, 1854 in Clarksville, Arkansas. Raised during the Civil War, his harsh childhood made him into a man you didn’t want to cross. His father, William Rudd, started out as a tanner and harness maker and later became a respected doctor and lawyer.

In 1876 the family was forced from their home in Arkansas by Union soldier’s habit of burning everything in their path, including crops. The starvation caused by the lack of food as well as the scorched earth policies drove people west. The Rudd’s crossed the plains in a wagon train, encountering tremendous herds of buffaloes, surviving lightning-set wild fires and barely missing the Sioux Indians rampages. Alex rode point and used his skill with a gun to provide game for the pioneers. Alex’s mother, Eliza Rudd, was called the Madonna of the Trail. The family settled in the Springville, Arizona area and started ranching. During this time they stood off Apache war parties, survived the Pleasant Valley war and dealt with outlaw Ike Clanton and his gang, who rustled their cattle and then demanded fifty dollars to return them.

In May 1886, Alex, his brother Davis Rudd and friend J. D. Murray were involved in a dispute over cattle with a Mormon rancher by the name of E. S. McCaw. Unfortunately, McCaw didn’t adhere to the rule of never bringing a knife to a gunfight and was shot dead by Alex. An arrest warrant was issued April 21, 1888 by the Apache County District Court.

It was reputed that Alex had a bit of a temper and when the Marshal came to arrest him and his brother, there was a confrontation and shots were exchanged. Another warrant was issued shortly thereafter for violently resisting a peace officer. His bond was later set at one thousand dollars, a lot of money in those days.

His father, William, had earned his law degree and arranged to have the warrants dismissed, arguing that it was self-defense. Not wanting a repeat of the Pleasant Valley war, Alex quickly left the area and was reported to be a Texas Ranger for a short time in 1895. He moved to Glendale, Arizona, in 1905.

In 1912 the Glendale News listed the requirements for a town marshal as his ability to take command of the citizens; to be able to lead an army of Mexican troops to the Glendale prison to guard the cells from within; he must have the skills to kill a stray dog with ten rounds of ammunition; be able to track a robber after the theft is made; he must be able to keep would-be landlords from collecting undue rent; be able to keep and maintain peace on the streets; he must be equipped with guns, knives, handcuffs and muzzles in order to protect himself from vicious dogs belonging to his patrons; he must be swift of foot as to make his escape in case he gets into trouble; he has to be a great bluffer but still honest and true to his calling and be able to hear and see in the dark.

Alex was considered a man’s man, in a time when the measure of “the best man” was his ability to pull the trigger first and Glendale hired him for his expertise. He quickly became the John Wayne of his time, a hard-faced marshal that held off the bad guys almost single-handily. His full head of gray hair also earned him the nickname of “Dad” by the Anglos and “Tio” (uncle) by the Mexicans.

The roaring twenties were just that. Bootlegging was a big business in Glendale and Alex blamed alcohol for society’s ills. “Dad” on horseback or using a borrowed new-fangled automobile busted the stills and arrested every bootlegger he could find. His driving skills of the high-powered machines were so poor, the crow-hopping so bad, that his deputy refused to ride with him. He felt walking was safer. Getting his witnesses to trial also proved to be difficult, as they kept disappearing.

The Glendale News’ 1920 account of Marshal Rudd’s capture of Martin, the “wild man” of Peoria, after his escape from insane asylum in Phoenix. The “wild man” was armed with a knife and had tried to assault several people. The posse’s searches lead them to the sugar beet factory where the “wild man” leapt from his hiding place and attempted his get-a-way. Ever quick on the draw, Marshal Rudd and Marshal Booth pulled their guns. According to the paper, a humorous scene took place after the “wild man” had been winged. It seems neither Booth nor Rudd were anxious to claim the honor of hurting the man. They both insisted the other man had shot him.

During his twenty-four years as a peace officer, Alex repeatedly arrested three half-breed brothers for public drunkenness. Because of his Civil War experiences, James became concerned for the welfare of their elderly Apache mother. During their stays in jail he would take her food and do small chores around her house.

The Apache woman repaid his kindness by telling him the story of her tribe’s attack on an Army pay train headed to Fort Grant. She said that the Arivaipa warriors had killed the soldiers and buried the gold in a cave ten miles east of Mammoth. To repay her debt to “Tio”, she would take him to the gold.

In 1933, looking for a little adventure, Alex took the Apache woman up on her offer. And at the ripe old age of eighty, driving an old Model T, Alex headed out to the Galiuro Mountains to hunt for the treasure. It didn’t matter that his guide was ninety, half-blind, extremely overweight and ill.

Because of the rugged terrain, they were forced to borrow mules from a local rancher near Copper Creek Canyon. As they rode out of camp, Alex realized they were being watched closely by the rancher and other locals. Seems they had heard of the lost gold and was suspicious of Alex’s story of taking the elderly woman back to the site of her old village. The trip proved to be too hard for the old woman and he left her at some old adobes ruins, while he scouted the area. Worried that he might lead the rancher to his treasure, James marked the area on his map and took the ailing woman back to Glendale. He never found the gold and his family continue to search for it to this day.

After ninety years of adventure, James Alexander Rudd died June 9, 1945 at the Pioneer Home in Prescott. The family later reburied him in the Rest Haven Cemetery in Glendale.

Watch the trailer for The Nasty Vamp and answer one simple question. What does our heroine want for her 21st birthday? Up for grabs is genuine, authentic Navajo Indian necklace I bought at Monument Valley. Click on the link below, answer the question correctly and you're put in the drawing. Simple, huh?


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TrI2eRVIOe8

Send your reply to gkoger58@q.com and put in the subject field: WC Trailer Contest.

The drawing will be held June 28th and the winner will be posted at the author's blog at www.whispershome.com

Good luck!

Monday, June 13, 2011

Monday Spotlight: Gail Koger

I Hear Voices Prologue


I hear voices and see dead people. No, I’m not nuts. I’m psychic. I worked for a psychic hotline called Picas Moon. My specialty was Tarot Card readings. For only $3.99 a minute you got to chat with me, a real live, genuine, authentic, certified psychic. I even had a nice little certificate hanging on the wall of my cubicle that stated that fact. Want to know the future, need to connect with the spirit world or find the love of your life? Give me your Visa or Master Card numbers and I was yours for as long as you needed me or until your money ran out. It was a nice gig.

Until Madam Celeste called me into her office on Christmas Eve and instead of getting that nice bonus check I was expecting, I was laid off. Me? I was the only genuine, authentic psychic she had. The rest of bunch was delusional quacks, flat out liars and phony, no talent hacks. Okay, the delusional quacks were Madam Celeste’s daughters, and of course, they kept their jobs. Family is family no matter how incredibly awful their advice was. I foresaw a lawsuit in their immediate future.

Since I’m a genuine, authentic psychic I should have seen it coming. Right? It doesn’t work that way. I can’t predict my future. My life is basically a crap shoot just like everyone else’s and sometimes you roll snake eyes.

On Christmas morning I got hit with more bad news. My Aunt Sophie, another authentic psychic, had tracked me down and offered me my old job back. The one where I did séances that scammed grieving relatives out of their hard earned money. I hated every minute of it. The only reason I stayed as long as I did was to protect my grandmother from Uncle Dante, the devil incarnate. When Granny Annabel died I made my escape and never looked back.

What was Aunt Sophie’s ultimatum? If I wasn’t back at the family compound in Seattle by New Year’s Day, she would turn my life into a living hell. She could and she did. My family members are not the nicest people in the world. In fact, most of them are scam artists, thieves or worse.

After Aunt Sophie put the word out, finding another psychic gig was nigh-on impossible. Because of the sucky economy I couldn’t even get a job at local burger joint. Trying to get the State of Arizona to fork over unemployment benefits was even harder. The minute I mentioned I was a psychic it was over.

Out of desperation to prove to the clerk that I really was a genuine psychic I blurted out, “Your boyfriend, Mark, is cheating on you with your best friend, Martha.” The poor thing burst into tears and fled her window.

The nice security guard escorted me to a tiny waiting room and promised a supervisor would speak to me shortly. Was that short hand for the police were coming? I hoped not.

Bored out of my mind, I flipped through an old Arizona Highways magazine and an article about Montezuma’s gold caught my attention. Gold! I could really use some of that Aztec gold about now.

Seems back in the early fifteenth century Cortez overran the great Aztec empire. To keep the greedy bastard from taking all his loot, Montezuma packed up his gold and with a small army guarding it, sent it north into what is now the canyon country of southern Utah. There, so the legend tells, his king’s treasure is still hidden.

The story got even more interesting. In 1921, Freddy Crystal, an Indiana Jones type, showed up in Kanab, Utah and convinced the town folk that he had a four centuries old map that would lead them to the long-lost treasure. He must have given one hell of a speech to get these hard working farmers to dig for gold, because gold fever hit with a vengeance.

Kanab’s elected mayor and city council were the first all petticoat government of that time. The women decided it was plain foolishness to share the treasure with the outside world and fines were levied for even uttering the word “treasure”. The ladies organized the treasure hunt like generals commanding an army. Each morning Kanab would empty and each night the deserted streets would fill up again. Since the town was the most inaccessible city in the United States it was easy to keep their secret. This went on for two years and lucky for me, they never found the treasure.

I gasped as a series of images flashed across my mind. An emerald eye set in a large gold amulet. Flickering torches revealed stucco warriors and a map etched into a stone. A dark malevolence guarded an eerily lit cavern filled with baskets of gold.

The visions were abruptly replaced by the image of a large, heavily muscled man with silver eyes that seemed to glow with an inner fire. His Hollywood good looks were marred by a scar across his right cheek. Somehow I knew he was an obnoxious, know it all prick, who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals.

If he thought he could keep me from finding the gold, he was sadly mistaken. My eyes snapped open when Granny Annabel stated calmly, “He’s the one.”

I glared at her gypsy like apparition. Granny refused to pass over until I found a strong man to protect me and she had been haunting me for three frickin’ years. “Sure he is. Just like the cop, the bouncer and Madame Celeste’s bodyguard were.”

“Beware of the Serpent,” she intoned and vanished.

Beware of the Serpent? What kind of mystical crap was that? I glanced down at the magazine and gold fever sank its claws into me. Okay, the fact that I was about to be evicted from my apartment, my car repossessed and the only thing in my refrigerator was some moldy cheese had a little to do with it. I mean finding the gold had to be easier than prying a check out of the State’s Unemployment Office. Right?

Little did I know my decision would forever change my life.

I Hear Voices will be released soon from Whispers Publishing.

Watch the trailer for The Nasty Vamp and answer one simple question. What does our heroine want for her 21st birthday? Up for grabs is genuine, authentic Navajo Indian necklace I bought at Monument Valley. Click on the link below, answer the question correctly and you're put in the drawing. Simple, huh?


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TrI2eRVIOe8

Send your reply to gkoger58@q.com and put in the subject field: WC Trailer Contest.

The drawing will be held June 28th and the winner will be posted at the author's blog at www.whispershome.com

Good luck!

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Holiday Heaven by Tony Haynes


Stacy took a long sip of her drink and relaxed back on the sun lounger. It felt bliss. Life at work had been hectic of late, as Stacy had been responsible for supervising the recent systems upgrade, however once everything had been finalized and was running smoothly she had decided it was time to take a break. Stacy had deliberated long and hard as to where she should go. After careful consideration, she eventually decided to really push the boat out and treat herself to the holiday of a lifetime in the Seychelles.

On arriving at the five-star hotel she had booked, even though it was off season, Stacy was amazed to find that she more or less had the place to herself. On her second afternoon there, as she relaxed on the patio, there was only one other person in the vicinity and he was busy doing lengths in the pool. Stacy’s eyes drifted towards him. She vaguely recognized him as being the same guy who had nodded to her at the breakfast bar that morning. Barely being half-awake at the time, Stacy had only given him a cursory reply, but as she watched him now she wished she had paid him a little more attention. Whilst sipping her cocktail, Stacy couldn’t help but admire his lithe, sun-tanned body as he cut through the water. As if instinctively aware that she was looking, the swimmer gave Stacy a little wave. Though she was slightly embarrassed at having been caught watching him, Stacy waved back. She had always enjoyed a bit of harmless flirting.

Alas, that was all it proved to be, for after completing another couple of lengths, disappointingly, Stacy’s eye candy got out of the pool and retreated back inside the hotel. Ah well, Stacy thought, never mind, and she picked up the book that she was reading instead. As she got lost in the plot however her mind began to play tricks on her. As the handsome hero in the novel clambered out of a pool, he took on the characteristics of the guy who Stacy had just been watching. Rather naughtily, Stacy allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to kiss him. Having come to the conclusion that it would be quite nice, she lay her book down and permitted her imagination to run riot. What the heck she thought, as she indulged in her fantasy, she was on holiday after all.

#


So, Stacy idled the afternoon away day dreaming. When the evening finally arrived, she nipped up to her room, grabbed a quick shower, then made her way back downstairs to the restaurant. After ordering a drink Stacy settled back in her seat to study the menu. Choices, choices. On hearing a polite cough, she looked up to find herself gazing into the deepest pair of blue eyes that she had seen for a long time. Her swimmer looked down at her and asked, "Would you mind if I joined you?"

Stacy didn’t hesitate. "Please, be my guest."

"It is Stacy, isn’t it?"

For a moment, Stacy felt slightly uncomfortable. "How on earth do you know my name?"

"Don’t you remember? We met at that software convention in Montreal last year."

A light bulb went off in Stacy’s head. "I thought I recognized you! Brad isn’t it?"

"Brett actually."

Stacy blushed slightly. "Sorry."

Thankfully, Brett just laughed it off. "No biggie."

It wasn’t the only thing that they laughed about that evening, as Stacy found her dining partner really good company. In fact, the evening flew by far quicker than Stacy anticipated and she was rather disappointed when, at eleven o’clock, the waiters ushered the pair out of the restaurant, for she didn’t want the night to end. As they climbed the stairs together, Stacy wondered whether she should offer Brett a late night coffee in her room. As if reading her mind, he beat her to it. "I don’t suppose you fancy…"

Stacy didn’t let him finish. "I’d love to."

Brett grinned. "You don’t even know what I was going to say."

"I’m guessing you were going to suggest going back to your room for a coffee."

Brett clicked his fingers and feigned disappointment. "Damn. Am I really that transparent?"

"If you are, that makes two of us," Stacy whispered in his ear.

Turning at the top of the landing, the pair made their way along the corridor to Brett’s room. He opened the door and invited Stacy inside. He clicked the light on and then crossed over to the table on which the tea tray rested. Brett glanced over it. "I’m really sorry; I appear to be all out of coffee actually. Is there anything else I could offer you?"

Acting much bolder than she actually felt, Stacy impudently replied, "It depends; what did you have in mind?" Provocatively, she sidled up to him.

Brett turned to find himself practically in Stacy’s arms. "Well, there’s the mini-bar," he faltered.

"Come now, I’m sure you can do better than that." With that, Stacy leant forwards and feathered her lips against his. They locked in a long, passionate embrace. Stacy felt Brett’s hands tease down her back. They lingered momentarily at the base of her spine as if testing the water. When Stacy didn’t pull away, Brett was bold enough to lower them even further and caress her bottom. His touch was electrifying. One by one, Stacy began to undo the buttons on Brett’s shirt. His chest was smooth and muscular and practically begged to be touched. Stacy obliged, running her hand down Brett’s pecs and toned stomach until it reached his waistband.

As Brett lowered the zipper on Stacy’s skirt, her right hand delved inside his trousers. She gasped excitedly as her fingers curled around his cock. It felt delightfully hard already. By this time, Brett had discarded Stacy’s skirt. He slipped her top off next, undid her bra and then kissed her gorgeous tits. Stacy felt as if she was melting as his tongue licked around the nipples of, firstly, her left breast, then her right. Breaking away from one another momentarily, they each discarded their last remaining items of clothing. As Stacy kicked her panties off, Brett took her in his arms and lowered her onto the bed. She could sense his glorious hard-on pressing into her and longed to feel it inside her.

Before Brett obliged though, he maneuvered around on the bed until his head rested between Stacy’s legs. Tenderly, he kissed her pussy lips experimentally. Stacy sighed. Brett then lapped her clit, causing Stacy to let out a low whisper of delight. His tongue felt incredible as it toyed with her pussy, sending little ripples of pleasure cascading through her thighs. Brett kissed and licked Stacy until her juices began to flow freely. Only then did he raise himself back up on the bed and position his cock against her beautiful muff. As he slipped it into her, they kissed once more. Brett then began to work into a steady rhythm as he slid his cock in and out of her. Stacy felt as if she was in heaven. In no time at all, she was aware of a delightful tell-tale tingling between her thighs. Stacy did her best to prolong the moment, however she found it impossible. She cried out as a sensational orgasm pulsed through her whole body. Sensing her come, Brett’s strokes grew faster and faster until he reached his own climax. As his cock twitched inside Stacy, another wonderful after-shock of pleasure coursed through her pussy.

Brett held her tightly until their orgasms were both spent. As they kissed once again, Stacy cheekily asked him, "How long are you staying for?"

"Ten days," Brett replied.

Stacy grinned for she had the feeling it was going to be a holiday to remember.

About the author: I have written a number of articles for local newspapers as a freelance. In August of 2009 my first short story was published by the e-zine Romance Stories Magazine. Since then I have sold a science fiction tale to Short Story Me, a sports piece to Midnight Showcase Fiction and a noir detective story to Big Pulp Magazine, and short stories to Whipped Cream. A number of my erotic stories have also featured in the on-line magazines For the Girls and Clean Sheets. I have also had a crime thriller accepted for publication by The Fringe.