Saturday, March 30, 2013
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Oh yes, it's that time again!! Time to celebrate Big Cocks and Shamrocks!! First, I suppose, I should introduce myself!!
I am a paranormal and futuristic romance writer. All of my stories err on the side of romance with a good helping of erotica, and then a dash more of romance. So, yeah, I like it haut!! I've been writing professionally for a little over 11 years, but wrote my first story at the tender age of 15. It amounted to nothing, but was so much fun to write that I kept doing it.
Now that we're done with the mundane stuff, let's talk about a few of my favorite cocks:
Hayze from my latest novella, Unveil My Heart, stands front and center in my mind. He's not only sexy, but he's loyal, has the patience of a God, and doesn't mind wearing his heart on his sleeve, for the woman he loves.
He has three days to win her heart or lose everything...including his life.
Blaine spent those three days in ICU fighting for her life. And now when Hayze’s time left on earth is borrowed at best, the woman for whom he would gladly die a hundred times over for would rather spit on him than look at him.
Fate, what a cruel bitch.
Hayze’s voice rolled through her like a flame. His breath smelled of cinnamon and his lips looked so rose petal-soft she wanted to lean in that extra inch and kiss him, but she couldn’t. If she allowed herself to feel anything more for him, it would destroy her when he left her. And he would leave because he was too perfect, too rich, and she was too unlucky to have someone like him to call her own. Still, she couldn’t deny that while she pushed him away with her right hand, the left one kept reaching for him.
He smoothed the back of his hand down her cheek as he slowly licked his lips, his eyes begging her to stay a moment longer, to hold on to this stolen moment between them.
“I-I-have to pay you back somehow,” she whispered, not breaking the contact.
Hayze tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. “I assure you it’s not necessary.” His eyes searched her face from brow to chin and cheek to cheek, in a whisper of promises and apologies she wasn’t quite ready to hear.
“I don’t like being indebted to anyone.” She swallowed. “If I am, I feel like I’m that person’s property.”
He traced her lower lip with the tip of his thumb as he leaned in closer. “Would it be that bad, Blaine, to belong to me?” A rueful smile crossed his face before he hid it.
“I—You don’t know me. I don’t know you.” Blaine closed her eyes and tried to ignore the way her heart reached for his and her soul reveled in his touch. Something soft brushed her lips, but she couldn’t say it was his lips because lips weren’t supposed to be that soft. She opened her eyes and watched in fascination as the tip of his tongue flitted over his lower lip. “I have to pay you back,” she blurted, jerking her head out of his hold.
“If you must, I’ll make a deal with you.”
My next cock of the walk would have to be Fury, from the first of my first Anubi Series, Storm's Fury. He doesn't have much patience but he has enough sexiness to share out abundantly and still be the definition of smexxxy!!
Sometimes the very thing you've run from all your life is the one thing that can save you.
A street-wise hustler, Stormy has been running most of her life from the creature that killed her family. However, when she meets Fury, a being so stubborn he could give a mule lessons, running is no longer an option. When he claims he’s her protector and the other half of her soul, Stormy would rather take her chances with the beast chasing her.
His dogged determination to protect her and his seductive expertise spark to life dreams she’d all but given up on: dreams of belonging to a family, and of having a life where running is nothing more than exercise. But with vile creatures hunting her, demanding her blood, and pack members who want her head instead of her help, Stormy will have to find a way to place her trust and heart in Fury’s care. If she can’t, then neither of them will have a future to dream about.
Ambrosia “Stormy” Wyatt’s foot sank into a puddle of sullied water, saturating her sneakers. Fear stiffened her spine as a trash can crashed in the darkness behind her. She spun around and searched the shadows to her left and right. They seemed to breathe and swell with a heartbeat all their own.
They reached out to her, called to her, promised her a lifetime of pain whenever she got too close.
She hefted her bag higher on her shoulder, spun back and broke into a sprint toward the mouth of the alley.
Her breath shuddering, water soaked through Stormy’s clothing, carrying a chill deep into her marrow.
Stormy hurdled a bag of garbage that could have been mistaken for a dead body, determination her only friend. She knocked a nearby trash can over in hopes of slowing her unseen pursuers as she raced for the well-lit street.
She had to get to the light. They couldn’t get her there.
Stormy had stayed too long when she knew better. The little voice in the back of her mind urged her to stick to the original plan—three weeks—and get the hell out of town before leaving was no longer an option.
She hadn’t listened this time.
Instead, she had made a friend of Mrs. Velda Johnston, the sweet old woman rooming above her.
Mrs. Johnston had had a stroke earlier that week, and Stormy stayed to help with her affairs until her daughter could fly in. One extra day, that was all, and they were close on her trail once again.
She barreled around the corner and took only a second to scan up and down the sidewalk.
Pushing soaked strands of hair out of her face, she cursed under her breath. “Sin City, huh? Well, where the hell is a sinner when you need one?” There wasn’t a pimp, prostitute, sidewalk evangelist, drunk, or police officer in sight.
Stormy spared another second to glance behind her before she turned and bolted across the deserted street and down the strip toward the lights of the Bellagio.
She didn’t know a soul there, and she damn sure couldn’t afford one of their rooms even if she saved for six months. But she’d heard rumors that the hotel had so many lights it could be seen from a shuttle orbiting the earth. That was probably a lie, but any place was safer than where she was.
The noise came then, like a million screeching claws raking across a thousand chalkboards. It dug into her soul, buried itself deep into her mind and demanded she halt. A part of her felt compelled to obey, but the primitive part wouldn’t allow her to. It ordered her to run harder, faster, and further.
And run she had, but how much longer would she have to run before she felt safe again?
Stormy covered the remaining distance to the hotel and pushed through the revolving doors. Her chest heaved, and her lungs burned as she turned to look back into the night’s shadows.
She could feel their eyes on her, waiting for her to let her guard down and to give in to their silent call. The danger and their merciless intent were undeniable.
“Never,” she whispered, her breath fogging the glass door sealing her in. In that moment, she swore the shadows closest to the building reared up, transformed into a clawed hand that reached out across the ground toward her, leaving jagged ruts in the street.
She staggered back and through the second set of thick glass doors. “Never,” she hissed at the darkness.
Thunder rolled. Blades of lightening streaked angrily across the domed skylight high above her head and crashed into something in the near distance, sending a loud boom echoing through the night.
In the instant it took Stormy to understand that the sound was a transformer blowing, she was standing in a sea of darkness.
The final cock I'd like to introduce you to would have to be, Donté, from the first novel I ever wrote, For His Love. After being born into slavery, I'd have to say Donté is a beast not just in his sexiness, but his unwillingness to be dominated by anyone.
She loved him from the moment she saw him, but he was never hers to love.
For the love of a real man, how much will Phia sacrifice? Her family? Her freedom? Her very life and the life of the only man she’s ever loved?
He looked past Dr. Lobush to Phia. His eyes silently pleading for help, but she remained where she was, too afraid to make a move in either direction.
He shook his head, shoved one hand out at the doctor to keep her at bay, and yanked at the right side of his head with his free hand. He pulled angrily at his hair as if trying to dislodge something buried deep within his skull. He stumbled back against the wall before dropping to his knees, an unfathomable moan of agony escaping him.
Phia stepped forward, knowing she couldn’t do a thing for him, but desperately needing to do something or say something. “What’s wrong with it? Why is it hurting? Can you do something to help it?”
“His body hasn’t fully healed yet.” Dr. Lobush dropped to her knees in front of him. She pulled a syringe from the pocket of the white lab coat she wore. “I don’t know why he woke up. He should have slept for another few days.” She sighed as she plunged the tip of the syringe into his arm. “But I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”
As he relaxed forward, his head falling into her lap, Dr. Lobush ran her hands through his hair as if he were her lover. Phia couldn’t explain the surge of jealousy roaring through her. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth to regain control of her unwelcome emotions. “How many credits for him?”
I'm going to make this real simple. Post to my blog telling me about a book you believe is a must read and which one of my books you'd love to devour, sign up for my blog, and tweet or share this link with your friends and you will be in the running to win an e-copy of one of my novels!!
Well, it's been real fun, but you all must be moving on to the next one!!