Six Sentence Sunday, Virgin Territory style, part 2

Woohoo, it's Six Sentence Sunday! This is my second Six Sentence Sunday from VIRGIN TERRITORY, my most recent release that came out 4/13 from Decadent Publishing. Hope you enjoy!

“Tell me, does the writing seem familiar to you?” Vincent asked.

Something about the silence that descended caused Kiki to read a few more lines. If she hadn’t read more than one of Vicenza’s books—okay, all seven of them, but that was only because Tammy religiously stocked Scarlet Publishing’s monthly lineup—she never would’ve noticed the resemblance in style.

Her eyes widened. “She’s you, or you’re her. Vicenza  Vincent, oh, my God.”

Check out VIRGIN TERRITORY's buy link and excerpt at Decadent Publishing HERE (also available at Amazon and ARe with B&N coming soon!)

Find more Six Sentence Sunday goodness HERE


Six Sentence Sunday, Virgin Territory part 1

Yay for Six Sentence Sunday! This is my first Six Sentence Sunday from VIRGIN TERRITORY, my most recent release that came out 4/13 from Decadent Publishing. In this scene, Vincent is trying to convince Kiki to go out with him. He's a very persuasive sort. ;) Hope you enjoy!

After what had to be the longest pause in conversational history, Kiki blew out a breath. “I guess you heard me say I haven’t had a date in…a while.”

“Three years isn’t a while, Vincent said, clearing his throat as she tucked some napkins into his chili dog tray. See, she cared - she wanted to ensure he had a tidy meal. “I thought you might appreciate some companionship, as would I,” he added.

Would he ever.

Check out VIRGIN TERRITORY's buy link and excerpt at Decadent Publishing HERE (also available at Amazon and ARe with B&N coming soon!)

Find more Six Sentence Sunday goodness HERE


I'm behind as usual with announcing these, but rest assured I'll be sending out prizes in the next few days! Congrats to all the winners and thank you so much for your participation! Look for more great giveaways and events coming soon!

The winner of Jennifer Probst's giveaway is Sharon! Jennifer, Sharon will be sending you your copy of THE MARRIAGE BARGAIN soon (if she hasn't already!)

The winners of the HOPPY EASTER bloghop are:
$5.00 Amazon/Barnes & Noble gift card - JessS (jessicamariesutton(at)msn(dot)com)
One backlist ebook - Rae M (rae.gwendy(at)gmail(dot)com)
One backlist ebook - seriousreader (seriousreader (at) live (dot) com)

The winners of CARRIE RYAN'S birthday bloghop are:
Kindle Touch (from my blog, YAY!) - Teri Matlock
$60 Amazon gift card (from Jessica Subject's blog) - Lisa Walker

$5.00 Amazon/Barnes & Noble gift card - Kay (sumopalk (at) gmail (dot) com)
One backlist ebook - Gena Robertson (robertsongena (at) hotmail (dot) com)
One backlist ebook - Mel B (bournmelissa (at) hotmail (dot) com)



Ahhh! Behold the YUM!

This incredible cover for TWICE BURNED, the first book in my Firefighters of Battle Creek series with Entangled Publishing, was done by my equally incredible editor, Heather Howland. We're still working on the blurb - which I'll share soon - but trust me when I say the hero, Austin Lancaster, has NEVER looked better! I love, love, LOVE this cover!

And...note the unbelievable "USA Today Bestselling Author" line above my name! Still cannot believe it! Thanks so much to EVERYONE who has read, reviewed or helped promo No Dress Required! If you enjoyed NDR, there will be more books set in that world. At least one, maybe two. Maybe more. ;)

So what do you think of TWICE BURNED's smokin' cover?


Welcome NYT bestselling author Jennifer Probst! CONTEST!

Today I have a very special guest. Jennifer and I share not one, not two, but THREE publishers, and we've both been part of the amazing wave of success Entangled Publishing has been riding, though her wave has risen quite a bit higher than mine! LOL Not only has her book, THE MARRIAGE BARGAIN, reached the top of the charts at both Amazon and Barnes & Noble, she's also recently achieved the status of being a USA Today bestselling author AND a New York Times bestseller! WOOHOO, Jen!

Jennifer is a sweetheart and an incredible author and I'm so thrilled to have her here today. I loved her hugely successful Indulgence, THE MARRIAGE BARGAIN, and I can't wait to find out what else she has in store!

After you finish reading our interview, please leave a comment or question for Jennifer to be entered into the drawing for one of her backlist books. The contest will be open until next Sunday, winner chosen shortly after that!

Six Questions for Jennifer Probst

Thank you so much for letting me hang out with you today, Cari, at your fantastic blog! I am a true fan and think your work is simply fantastic!

1) You write both sexy contemporaries and erotic romance. Which is your favorite and why? Or do you not see them as being much different?

Must be honest – I love both. I love going back and forth between sexy and erotic because it satisfies my ADD muse. You have no idea how much I remind myself of Doug from the movie UP (can you tell I have little kids?). I’m constantly diving into an idea, then pick up my head and yell “Squirrel!” So it helps to know once I finish a longer contemporary length, I can switch off to a novella length and push the literal envelope with my sex scenes. Because I do love writing my sex scenes – lol!

2) Which genre would you like to tackle next, assuming the time fairy blessed you?

I have worked with two other authors on the possibility of a parenting book, something fresh and new in the market. That would be a dream come true. Also, I have a wonderful idea for a second children’s book I collaborated with my niece on again, so I’d love to seek representation and branch out in that genre a bit.

3) Is there one of your books (published or unpublished) that you love just a teensy bit more than the others? Why?

Yes. The Marriage Bargain. And not because the sales took off and blessed me. It’s because I believed in this book and felt it was special, but the constant rejections kept me puzzled. This book did not see the light for many years, so it was truly a dream come true when Entangled believed in it like I did, and then the readers also loved and supported the story. I kept thinking to myself, “Thank God, I’m not crazy! It was a good book!”

4) When you’re looking to relax, what do you like to do? And which of your heroes do you wish could “relax” with you?

I’m addicted to reading. Long fun dinners with my family or friends over a bottle of wine. I love day trips with the kids, and yummy bookstores to browse in with a cup of coffee. A good baseball game.  And don’t forget my love for trashy reality tv!! Very simple stuff.
Well, as for my heroes, this is quite hard to pick one! So, I’m going out on a limb here and say I will pick my husband. He’s my true hero because he’s in it every day with me – the mess, the un-romance, the kids and the house and the money. And he makes me laugh every day and makes me happy.

5) What can we look forward to next for Jennifer Probst? (More yumminess like THE MARRIAGE BARGAIN, I hope!)

Squeee! Can you tell my excitement? The Marriage Trap will be coming out which details Michael and Maggie’s story. I am so in love with these characters and feel like a kid on Christmas – I can’t wait to have readers open their new story like a present! I’m working hard on the edits now which came back from my amazing editor, and hopefully very soon you will see it on the virtual bookshelves!

6) And just for fun: you’re offered a chance to run away from your life for a weekend. Where do you go and what do you do? And who do you take with you?

I’ll go to Italy. Walk the streets of Rome, breathe deep in Sorrento, sail down the canal in Venice. Eat tons and tons of food and drink wine. I think I’ll bring my husband. And leave my fantastic, gorgeous, wonderful home.

Where you can find Jennifer:

Website and Blog:


Author Facebook Page:!/jenniferprobst.authorpage


Now it's your turn. Leave a question or comment for Jennifer to be entered into a drawing for your choice of her backlist ebooks!


Six Sentence Sunday, Heart Signs style, naughty!

Happy Easter! Looking for the Hoppy Easter blog hop? Check out the post below this one!

Yay for Six Sentence Sunday! Next week I'll be switching to Virgin Territory, out 4/13 from Decadent Publishing, but this week I'm sharing more from my latest Ellora's Cave erotic contemporary release, Heart Signs. And this week, I'm getting naughty! 18+ excerpt below. Hope you enjoy!

“Just make one sound so I know if it’s good for you,” Rory murmured, her hands moving faster. 

His cock was harder than the table he held in a rigid grasp. His balls clenched and full, his stomach taut with the groans he wasn’t about to let out while his crew worked a few feet away, music or no music. 

“Good,” Sam managed, hating to waste even a single breath on speaking when he needed all of them to keep from losing his load all over her swollen mouth. “Try fan-fucking-tastic. Try incred-amazing.” 

Check out Heart Signs buy link and excerpt at Ellora's Cave HERE (also available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble and ARe!)

Find more Six Sentence Sunday goodness HERE


Welcome to the Hoppy Easter blog hop! GIVEAWAY!

Looking for Carrie Ann's Birthday blog hop? Check the post beneath this one!

Happy Easter everyone! I'm so thrilled to be part of the Hoppy Easter blog hop (thanks, Drea, for putting it together!)

I love Easter. Springtime, easter candy, the pretty pastel colors...and of course, the religious reasons, as well, if you celebrate. I went to Catholic school as a child so there will always be some religious significance to me. This time of year I like to have my fish dinners and maybe see a local production of Jesus Christ Superstar, though I haven't done that in a few years.

What about you? What do you like most about Easter? Leave me a comment telling me what it is you enjoy most about the holiday AND become a follower of the blog (I hold lots of contests and author interviews, so it's never boring around here!) and you'll be entered to win my prizes as part of the hop.

What can you win from me? There will be THREE winners. One will win a $5.00 gift certificate to either Amazon or Barnes & Noble, winner's choice! Two other winners will win one of my backlist ebooks (winner's choice!) So follow and comment away! And happy Easter!

Ready to rejoin the hop? Click on the graphic above to go back to main blog hop site!


The Happy Birthday Bloghop GIVEAWAY!

It's Carrie Ann Ryan's birthday - HAPPY BIRTHDAY CARRIE - and we're celebrating with her!

Around 60 of her author and blogger friends are hosting a hop for two days!! Woot! Each author is going to talk about their favorite birthdays or why they love (or hate) them.

What does that mean for you as a reader?

Well, each author is giving away a prize at their blog. AND we're giving away TWO grand prizes.

1) A Kindle Touch

2) A $60 Amazon or Barnes & Noble Gift Card

Yep. You can comment on each blog and enter to win! How great is that? So on April 5th the hop begins and you have until 11:59PM on the 6th to participate!

But first, let's talk birthdays!

Personally I love birthdays. I'm lucky enough to have a holiday birthday in the month of December, though many people have expressed sympathy for that fact since you often get fewer presents. Since I'm not a huge present person anyway, it doesn't bother me! I'm just happy going out to dinner a few times and getting some new books. Because books=happiness to me. Probably why I became a writer, huh? 

This past year, I turned thirty-six. Granted, birthdays aren't quite as much fun as when I was younger. I remember one year waking up on my sixth birthday to the house being all decorated for Christmas - my favorite birthday memory ever - but I still make sure to do something special every year. Even if it's only going to Chili's or Outback, my favorite restaurants! 

Now it's your turn!

Along with the GRAND PRIZES that will be given out to the overall Bloghop winners, I'm giving away THREE prizes! A $5.00 Amazon/B&N gift card (winner's choice) to one winner, and two other winners will win a backlist ebook of mine of their choice.

What do you have to do to be entered to win?

It's EASY!

1) Just become a follower of the blog
2) Leave a comment telling me about your naughtiest or nicest birthday (your choice!)

Have fun and happy hopping, and a HUGE thank you to Carrie for putting on the hop! Check out the links below to continue on to the next stop!


Welcome erotic author Charlotte Stein!

I'm thrilled to have Charlotte Stein here today. I've recently become acquainted with her amazing work and rank SHELTERED up there with my favorite erotic romances ever. Read on for a sample of her latest release, POWER PLAY (which I need to pick up now!) Here's Charlotte!

Look at me, all being at Cari Quinn’s place! I feel almost cool, because as everyone knows Cari is the coolest. And she writes the coolest, sexiest contemporaries, of the kind I always pretend I write in between lusting after Armie Hammer’s ass and falling asleep in a half-eaten sandwich.

And not only is she cool and fabulous, she let me come here and promo my book. Hooray!

So here’s a bit about it:

Power Play

When Eleanor Harding is abruptly promoted, she loses two very important things: the heated relationship she had with her boss, and control over her own desires. Without a restraining hand on her she finds herself suddenly craving something very different – and the office lackey, Benjamin, seems like just the sort of man to fulfil her needs. He’s eager, lustful and willing to show her all of the things she’s been missing – namely, what it’s like to be the one in charge, for a change. Now all Eleanor has to do is decide… is Ben calling the kinky shots, or is she?

And an excerpt:

When he tells me to lift my skirt and bend over his desk, there’s a moment where I hesitate. There’s always a moment. It’s like the feeling just before the lock springs under the pressure of the correct key you’ve somehow chosen. My body goes completely still and the word no makes a fist in my throat, and then I just do it.

I wriggle my tight skirt up over my thighs and expose my backside to his waiting gaze.

In fact, I do much more than that. Mainly because I’ve started anticipating these little trips up to the thirtieth floor, and this morning I went without knickers. Plus, when I bend over my legs somehow automatically spread, so he doesn’t just get a view of the dark seam between the lush curves of my ass cheeks.

He gets to see the slippery pink flesh between, as flushed and swollen as ever I’ve felt it. Of course I like to pretend I hate these little excursions up to the thirtieth floor, and that what Mr Woods does to me is degrading and disgusting and oh, isn’t it awful. But the fact remains that the moment he tells me to bend over in that silvery voice of his, my clit swells. My sex plumps. Wetness trickles from the clenching hole between my legs, down over my quite possibly quivering thighs.

I quiver, for Mr Woods. I bend over, for Mr Woods. I forget that I was ever Ms Harding, Executive Editor of Barrett and Bates, and I become this other creature.

I don’t even know her name, to be honest. She looks like me and talks like me and even acts like me in some respects – I still lay my hands on the desk so that they’re apart but parallel to each other – but she can never have that little buzz of respect before her name the way I so often do: Ms.

And she could never let herself be used the way I’m going to let Mr Woods use me right now. I turn over in my mind each way he could possibly debase me as he stands behind me in his crisp grey suit with his crisp grey face and his mouth in that mean line it so often falls into.

He could push something into my cunt. He’s never done it before, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t do it now if he wanted to. I’m as slick as I’ve ever been, but more than that I feel greedy down there, as though I could take anything he wanted to offer. That award he got, for excellence in business or something like it? That big, thick, curved one, with the little nubs all around its length like a thing just made for stirring the nerves inside someone’s body?

Yeah, he could fill me with that, if he so chose. In my normal life, the life outside the strange, still unspoken relationship we’ve struck up, I would never let someone choose something like that for me.

But here it’s different. Here he doesn’t have to say a word, and my mind floods with a million options, each more disgusting than the last. In fact, I suspect that my mind is actually far more disgusting than his. After all, he’s never actually fucked me. Most of the time he doesn’t touch me between my legs, and he hardly ever pushes me into touching him.

It’s just this, it’s just him behind me with the thought of what he could do buzzing through my body. He could order me to oil my own ass and let him slip his cock inside. He could cane me until my flesh sang red-hot songs, until I bled and wept and begged him not to.

And though I’m sure I’ve never wanted any of those things, there’s something about him that makes me give in anyway. Something about his eyes, as calm and colourless as a midwinter day. And his tone, his perfect, metallic tone.

No order is ever barked; his voice is never raised. His orders don’t seem like orders, to be honest. One day he just said to me, quite matter-of-factly: I’d like to see your cunt now, Ms Harding. In the same way one might ask to see the quarterly reports or the latest projections or something of that nature.

And then a sort of haze had descended over me, as though his words had thrown a veil over my head. The veil is with me right now as he murmurs that I should spread my legs wider, wider. He wants to see just how wet I am, just how bad I’ve been, before he progresses to anything further.

And oh God, how I’m longing for anything further. Use the award, I think at him frantically, while my cheeks turn crimson and my body shudders over the idea. Force me to take your cock, I think at him, though somehow I know he never will.

I’m not allowed.

‘I see you’re very wet, Ms Harding,’ he says, then follows it with more disapproving words that I don’t want to hear. ‘Yes, very wet indeed. Would you care to explain to me how you got into such a disgusting state?’

No, I would not care to explain. My entire body sizzles with embarrassment and I have to force my hands to remain flat. And yet I find my mouth opening and words that aren’t my own come out, as though I have a talk-string on my back and he just pulled it.

‘I’ve been thinking about fucking,’ I say, which at least has the virtue of being honest, if not the virtue of being what I actually wanted to say.

‘Fucking who?’ he asks, just as I knew he would. Only this time I find the wherewithal to lie. I have to find the wherewithal to lie. He always asks me this and I always answer the same way – with something that affirms him as the one who controls me – but this time, it’s not true.

And I can’t possibly explain to him why it isn’t. I can’t. It’s more embarrassing than the long, slow throb between my legs.

‘You,’ I say, and then I think of the new guy in the hallway, spilling his armful of papers everywhere. The way his shirt had been untucked at the back. The look on his face, like someone lost inside a maze created by a superior race that hates him.

‘You thought about my cock inside you?’ he asks, and oh that delicious deliberation in his voice still gets me. I have to rub my stiff and aching nipples against the desk just to take the edge off – though I know he will punish me for it soon.

Any transgression, he punishes me for it. Once, I rubbed the toe of my shoe over the back of my opposite ankle to scratch an itch there. And in return for this minor slip he had made me bend double and grasp that said same place while he paddled my ass with a ping-pong bat.

To this day I have no idea where the ping-pong bat came from.


‘You think about it often?’

‘All the time.’

‘Describe how you imagine it would feel, sliding in.’

God, why does he always have to make me describe? I’m terrible at it. I’m the worst.

‘Mmmm, so good,’ I say, limply, and for my crimes I get a hard slap to the ass. Of course I do. I should have said solid or satisfying or what I’m really thinking: not as good as that new guy’s cock.

The one I could practically see through his pathetic trousers, as he bent and stretched and reached for all his fallen papers, face red, everything about him so awkward and appalling. He should be taken out of his misery, he really should. He should be planted over a desk and made to see the error of his ways, just as I am now.

And then maybe he’d beg like me too.

‘Oh please, please just fill me with something. Please,’ I blurt out, but it’s the strangest thing. I don’t know if I’m saying it for Mr Woods, or for the other thoughts that are pushing their way through my addled mind.

Thoughts such as: if it was the new guy behind me, would he fill me now? I don’t think I’d have to beg with him, but somehow that doesn’t seem like a negative. Instead, my body flushes with the thought of how eager he’d probably be – cock so stiff and swollen it’s almost touching his belly, pre-come welling at the tip like a promise of all the copious slickness he’s about to spill.

And he’d spill it inside me. Of course he would. Two thrusts and he’d be done, cock spurting thickly in my waiting cunt, hands all sweaty on my hips and oh God maybe he’d moan too. He wouldn’t be like Mr Woods – silent, implacable, unmoveable. He’d actually say something as he touches me, and if he didn’t want to, if he couldn’t …

I’d make him.

The realisation shoves its way through me, as hard as those first words from Mr Woods did. I’d like to see your cunt now, Ms Harding, I think, and then hot on its heels:

I’d like to see your cock now, new guy.

Benjamin, I think his name is. Benjamin, I think, as Mr Woods rubs something too cold and unyielding against the slippery lips of my cunt. And then when I moan to feel it, and squirm against it, he eases it down, down until the smooth tip is rubbing against my swollen clit.

I don’t mind admitting that I forget about Benjamin then. Hell, I forget my own name. Pleasure whites out all of my higher thought processes and leaves behind this: this shame-riddled, wriggling mess. This thing, that can only plead:
‘Uhhhh, yes – more. More.’

I try to angle my hips to catch whatever he’s using – the award, my mind screams, the award, even though I know it’s not – and get it inside me, but naturally he’s too good for that. He just pulls back further, until the thing is barely touching me at all. In fact, I’m sure I can only feel it because my clit is so sensitive, so ready for any little touch that stirring the air over its surface makes me liquid between my legs.

Makes me moan, too loud and too long. Outside his doors, hundreds of people are working away, oblivious – but they won’t be oblivious if I carry on like this. If I buck and pant and tell him to just fuck me with it, fuck my cunt with it.

‘Such a filthy mouth, Ms Harding,’ he says, and then he does something worse than all the rest of this nonsense combined.

He slides the tip of whatever this is up, up, past my ready and waiting pussy to a place I’m completely not prepared for. I’m so not prepared for it that I lurch forward against the desk, and actually almost say something weak and pathetic, like:
Please don’t. I’ve never had anything there before.

Luckily, my perfectly perpendicular hands save me. The thought of that Ms at the start of my name saves me. The idea of Benjamin stumbling and fumbling and just being such a mess saves me.

And I don’t break. I don’t say anything at all as he offers me one tiny, amused sort of sound. He never laughs, Mr Woods – of course he doesn’t – but sometimes I’m sure my struggles and my boundaries entertain him.

And this is such a petty boundary to have. Who hasn’t had something in their ass? Yet the fact remains that I haven’t, and the more he pushes and twists and makes that amused sound, the harder I clench and flame red with mortification.

I don’t know what’s worse, either – the fact that he’s doing this with something impossibly thick and still achingly cold, or that I can feel how slick its surface is. As though he didn’t just coat it in my liquid before he decided to rub it over my arse.

He oiled it in advance, for this specific purpose. He knew he was going to penetrate me there before I even walked into this office, and no amount of my squirming and whimpering is going to change that.

I just have to squeeze my eyes tight shut and let him ease it slowly in.

And oh God he does, he does. He braces one hand on my tense ass cheek, and then twists this thick and slippery thing until my body starts to yield to it. The tight ring of muscle there clenches and tries to deny the intrusion, but then everything just seems to give and I feel it slide all the way in to the hilt.
Worse than the hilt, in fact, because once the thing is lodged firmly inside me I can make out the press of his fingers where he’s gripping it at the base. Somehow it’s the most intimate touch he’s offered me since this whole thing began.

‘I think I would like you to rub your clit as I fuck you. What do you think, Ms Harding?’

I think nothing. I’m made of nothing. All I can feel or respond to is the slow slide of this fake cock as he pushes it in and out of my ass. As it stirs all of these little nerve-endings that I didn’t know existed, everything so glossy and slick that the feeling is almost unbearable.

‘I think you’d like that. Now reach between your legs and find your clit.’

I flop around for a moment, trying my best to do as I’m told. My arms feel rubbery and unresponsive, and with this fake cock working back and forth inside me it’s hard to lift my body to get at what he’s asking for.

And it doesn’t get any easier when I finally reach my stiff little bud. Just skimming the pad of one finger over its tense surface is like a punch to the gut. It feels immense, and every touch of it burns too hotly, and then he actually makes a sound as he forces the thing into me and oh God I can’t take it, I can’t.

I can accept something fucking my ass. I can take being bent over his desk. I can’t endure him grunting like that, as though maybe this whole thing affects him a little more than he usually lets on. Him grunting makes me imagine torrid, glorious things, like his cock all stiff and solid against the material of his impeccable trousers.

And though I daren’t look to check, I can almost picture him stroking himself as he does this to me. One hand on his hard cock, one hand on the fake one he’s pumping in and out of my willing body, until finally he gives in and lets himself spurt all over –

‘Oh fuck, Mr Woods,’ I moan, because everything is just too much. The heated pulse between my finger and my clit, the feel of the fake cock fucking into me, raggedly, the idea of him coming on my upturned ass … I can’t take it.

Instead, I press down hard on my clit and let the first trembling waves ebb through me, pushing back against the pounding he’s now doling out until said waves become a great wash of pleasure.

‘Yes, keep doing that, keep doing it, I’m coming – ohhhhh,’ I tell him, because by this point I’m beyond all good sense. I don’t know who I am or where I might be, and all I care about is the orgasm that’s shoving rudely through my body.

And God, it goes on and on and on. By the time it’s finished I’m a wet, trembling mess on the desk. Perpendicular hands forgotten. Perfect clothes sweated through. Ass so sore I’ll barely be able to walk for the rest of the day.

Though that’s not unusual, for our cold little relationship. At the very least I’m usually sitting on some red handprints in any afternoon meetings I then have – meetings that are actually going to start very soon.

In fact, they’re going to start so soon that my real self comes back to me far quicker than usual, and I go to straighten before he’s given me permission. I try to stand, but before I can get anywhere near said position that tented hand is back on my ass. His metallic voice is back in my ear.

‘Stay still, Ms Harding,’ he says, only he sounds different for just a second. That metallic tone peels away and reveals something rusted and old beneath, and then I actually feel it on my skin, just as I had imagined.

A searing stripe of something slick. And then another. And another.

Though that’s not the shocking thing. I mean, I’ve often imagined him losing some of his control. Sometimes I’ve hungered for it, with my hand between my legs and orgasm just one wretched inch away.

But in all of these fantasies of him breaking, I’ll confess: I never imagined him moaning something heated. The Benjamins of this world moan heated things. They let themselves go and can’t control themselves – not people like Mr Woods.

And finally, if you’re still here, the buy links!

Thanks for having me, Cari!


Six Sentence Sunday, Heart Signs style, part 9

Happy Six Sentence Sunday! Next week I'll be switching to Virgin Territory, out 4/13 from Decadent Publishing, but this week I'm sharing more from my latest Ellora's Cave erotic contemporary release, Heart Signs. In this scene, Sam and Rory just bumped fenders and they're discussing exchanging information...and maybe more. ;) Hope you enjoy!

Sam rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone. “Will you come inside so we can get to know more about each other?”

Rory's throat tightened, trapping her assent inside. He searched her face and frowned, taking a step back she hated that she couldn’t stop. Then he swore and strode forward, locking an arm around the backs of her thighs and hauling her straight off her feet. “Will you?”

Check out Heart Signs buy link and excerpt at Ellora's Cave HERE (also available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble and ARe!)

Find more Six Sentence Sunday goodness HERE