Category Archives: New Releases

Dianna Hardy Shares the Story Behind The Witching Pen Novellas

It’s my pleasure to welcome the delicious Dianna Hardy to A Hopeful Romantic today to share with us the story behind her exciting Witching Pen novellas.

Book One: The Witching Pen

Book Two: The Sands of Time

Book Three: The Demon Bride

It started with a domain name. Yes, seriously: thewitchingpen.co.uk

That’s how it began. I bought it three years ago when I was publishing my first ever book (in paperback – I knew nothing of eBooks then): a collection of poetry that I had spent my life writing sporadically.

I knew poetry wasn’t going to be all that I wrote, so I wanted a domain name that I could use for my website that would be flexible enough to encompass other genres, including the spiritual / occult books that I occasionally bring out.

As the months went on, I began to write erotic fiction. (That’s how I discovered eBooks.) That developed into paranormal romance, which in turn included hot urban fantasies… and now I truly am multi-genre, because, for the life of me, I can’t choose just one genre – I need to write anything I please at any given time!

DiannaHardy.com became my domain name, and thewitchingpen.co.uk became defunct.

But I liked that domain name – I couldn’t just give it up! And suddenly, just like that, the idea for The Witching Pen fell into my lap; out of the sky, or so it seemed. What if you really did own a pen that was witchy and magical, and that pen could do great things? What if it was mightier than the sword? Would you use it for good or for bad?

I had the plot, now I needed characters. I had the idea of a very strong, street-smart heroine wielding this pen to start with, but it didn’t work – not at all. And as I wrote her, within the first chapter, she morphed into this sweet, kind and innocent witch, who could appear meek to those who didn’t know her well, but who carried unrivalled power through her bloodline, and, unbeknownst to her, through a pen she happens to find one day: The Witching Pen.

Enter her best friend, Karl, the boy next door who she’s always loved – who has always loved her – who she can never be with because of a ‘curse’ that ensures she will lose her powers to any man she ever sleeps with … My God! I had book one! I had a paranormal romance.

From that point, the writing took on a life of its own, the characters became … real … (almost) and I never looked back. Books two and three tumbled out of me; sometimes with ease and sometimes through sweating blood and tears. But that is the nature of this series: it is easy, but hard; it is light, but dark; it is trust and betrayal; it is a test of the self.

In short: The Witching Pen began as a domain name intended to represent me and my writing, but it became a paranormal romance series that tested me and my writing; tested it in wonderful, beautiful and torturous ways. It truly is magical to me, how one can start with just a word; just a sentence … and it grows, and grows, and a year later, you have a trilogy that – thank God – most readers so far have fallen in love with.

To me, The Witching Pen will always be just that: a tool that somehow weaves magic with words. And I don’t always know if I’m the magician, or just the observer.

The Witching Pen Novellas are available in digital format, with the first trade paperback having been released in April. All info and buy links can be found on the series website The Witching Pen Novellas.

 Thanks so much to K D Grace for taking the time to host me on her blog.

 Book Promo Spotlight: The Demon Bride, by Dianna Hardy

The Demon Bride (Book Three of The Witching Pen Novellas)

Preceded by Book One and Book Two.

Two thousand and eleven years after the birth of the Failed One, the Witching Pen will be made manifest on Earth by the Great Shanka Witch of the Old Scrolls. By her hand, the Earth will rumble and shatter, and all dimensions will bleed into one.

The true purpose of the Witching Pen has been revealed, and it must be destroyed before an apocalyptic prophecy comes true. There’s just one problem — the Pen is indestructible.

As everyone searches for much needed answers, Elena lays down plans for a radical mission to save her mother from the Shanka’s shadow world.

Meanwhile, Mary has finally discovered who she really is, and what that means for the human race.

What Mary doesn’t know, is that Gwain has been searching for her for over ten thousand years, and had lost all hope of finding her. Now that he has her, he’s faced with an impossible choice: does he save the woman who altered his very existence, or does he sacrifice her to save mankind?

eBook available NOW!

Amazon US   Amazon UK   Smashwords

View the whole series at the series website.

EXCERPT

Prologue

Her fingernails dug into his wrist, as her scream pierced the air.

“God damn it!” he cursed. “Don’t you let go of me – don’t let go!”

But this was a battle they were both losing. The pulsing abyss beneath her was relentless, swallowing everything too close to it, like some ominous, living black hole, and she was more than too close to it – she was dangling above it, her feet touching the hungry darkness.

Terror gripped her – an unforgiving fear she’d never known, and she’d known a lot of fear.

For a second, exhaustion took her over, and her fingers slipped a little.

“No!” he shouted, and squeezed his hand in a tighter vice around her wrist. His other hand – the left one – was buried in the earth. He had pegged himself into it in an attempt to stop their forward movement. He had his legs entwined around a tree trunk, but the tree was now coming up at the roots, bowing to the force of the suction. Every muscle in his body was straining, bulging unnaturally – she wondered if he’d ripped any yet. Hell, he was strong – but not strong enough.

She looked up, forcing her head to move against the pull of the abyss, and met his eyes. Steely grey, and usually so steady, they were now marred with panic and anger. But still he held her gaze, and still – despite the horror of what was about to happen – she found a semblance of peace within his presence.

“Let me go,” she whispered.

Her answer was a tenacious growl.

“It’ll pull you in if you don’t. It doesn’t want you, it wants me. Let me go.”

He tightened his hold on her.

Damn it! She won’t risk him. Not now, not ever.

She spoke to him in the Old Tongue. “I’m not supposed to be here – it was always going to be this way.”

Determination hardened his features.

My God, he’s stubborn.

“I love you,” she whispered, and let the truth of her words touch him, seep into him, through the all-consuming connection they shared – one which she suspected was about to be ripped to shreds.

He was momentarily stunned at the weight behind her words. She had him off-guard, and in that split second, with a strength she didn’t know she possessed, she brought her left hand up, fighting against the vacuum with all she had, and tore into his cheek with her nails.

Startled, his grip loosened, and it was enough.

She yanked her right hand out of his.

His look of shock quickly turned to one of both rage and desperation when he finally realised what she’d done.

Blood seeped through the cuts on his cheeks. Her own face stung in response.

“Forgive me,” she pleaded. “You mean too much to me.”

Tears welled in his eyes.Tears? Oh, no, m’angeal, don’t cry. I’m not worth your tears.

“I’ll find you, I swear it,” he choked out.As the abyss closed up around her, she uttered a prayer, and she had no idea whether she was praying that he would, or that he wouldn’t.

Chapter One

Mary jolted awake, then moaned as the pounding in her head dominated all her senses. A nightmare? No. This pounding felt like normal pain – the kind you had when you hit your head, not the type of pain that seared her during her nightmares.

What had woken her up? A dream? But she didn’t have dreams – not normal dreams, anyway…

She tried to grasp at it and failed, the throbbing in her skull preventing her from going in too deep.

And she was hot – too hot – baking hot.

Where the fuck am I?

And far too quickly, she remembered her encounter with the monster in the prison, and being dropped into the hole in the ground. A portal of some kind? The memories rushed at her – they came so quickly, she thought she might puke. Ugh. She remembered being thrown down and cracking her head on the cement.
Shit. She hoped she didn’t have concussion.

Gingerly, she tried to move and realised that something was crusted onto the left side of her face, which smarted big time – she guessed it was her blood. Her face felt mangled. She must have done it when she’d cracked her head. A glance down at herself told her she was naked. That meant she’d been undressed.

Fuck.

She mentally assessed her body, trying to figure out if she’d been messed with in any way. It felt the same as usual, apart from her arms. Looking up with effort, she could see that her hands were tightly secured above her head in metal cuffs, each attached to a stone wall by short, linked chains.

She gave her hands a little wriggle. Pins and needles shot down to her elbows, which ached. She winced. Could this be any worse?

“She awakes,” came a voice, low and soft, to her right.

It just got worse.

Excerpt copyright © Dianna Hardy, 2012. All rights reserved.

Dianna Hardy is a multi-genre author of paranormal things, dark things, poetic things, sexy things, taboo things, and sometimes funny things.She writes about witches, demons and angels. All info about her books can be found on her website DiannaHardy.com

Madeline Moore’s Long Journey to Pretty as a Porn Star

It’s my pleasure to welcome the marvellous Madeline Moore to A Hopeful Romantic today to talk the long road to completion of her exciting new petite novel, Pretty as a Porn Star, and the long road to getting there.

Hi KD and faithful followers of The Story Behind the Story.

Now, you might think the process of taking a book called Pretty As A Porn Star from conception to completion would be quick and easy. But this particular project took years to come to fruition. We have to go back, way back, to 2009.

My novel, Sarah’s Education, was about to be published by the Virgin imprint Black Lace when Random House purchased the parent company. I was now a Black Lace/Virgin/Random House author.

It was high time to start working on my next novel proposal. I’d read a piece in Scarlet Magazine about an ordinary housewife who purchased a strap-on dildo and was instantly transformed into a man-slamming Dominatrix.

In no time, she had quite a collection of videos. The budding porn star convinced her admirably accepting husband to quit his job and help her launch a porn site. At the time of the story, they were making love, making movies, and making money.

The editor of Black Lace, Adam Nevill, and I were batting the concept back and forth when the axe fell. Sarah’s Education was one of the last Black Lace novels to be published.

Some of you may know that I live with Felix Baron, author of Nexus novels like Sweet as Sin and (my favourite) The Persian Girl. Naturally I collapsed with the vapours. We were doomed!

Maxim Jakubowski began discussions with Felix about an offer the publishing house John Blake had made to him: a limited number of crime novels to be published under the Imprint MaxCrime. We pitched an outline and landed a contract. It was fun. Instead of counting sheep to get to sleep at night, I began a body count that included the injured and the dead. I believe the total was 17.

MaxCrime granted us a reprieve that lasted just long enough for our ex-editor Adam Nevill to invite us to join him in a new, digital-only Imprint from the publisher Harper-Collins. Felix and I fumbled at our keyboards, each eager to be the first to say “Yes.”

We were new to digital but we’d read that e-readers like novellas, so we decided we’d each do a petite novel for Mischief.

I had a short story to toss into The Swap and the PAAPS idea (not my favourite acronym ever, although possibly my favourite title) on file. Somewhere it had morphed into the story of film students making money shooting personal videos for select clients.

Adam and I batted PAAPS around some more, tossing Felix the occasional hard ball (Gee, there’s something I never thought I’d type) and it became the love story of Emily and Luke, two film students struggling through their final year of University and wondering, ‘What’s next?’

This is the first time my main characters are madly in love as the story begins. They need to be to survive the experience of spearheading a porn production company comprised above and below the line entirely by students. (Above and below the line is film speak. It means: Executive Producer, Producers, Director, Writer, and Talent – Above the line.

First Assistant Director, Second, Camera, Sound and Crew – Below the line.)

Now why would a gang of film students suddenly start making porn at the end of their tenure in the great halls of academia? Hmm. Because their fees go up, of course!

And there you have it. Three years later, the phoenix that rose from the fire, Madeline Moore’s petite novel Pretty As A Porn Star.

In this excerpt sweet li’l Emily has evolved into a barking Executive Producer for whom the bottom line is product and profit. Luke, up until recently a sensitive film director, has reluctantly helped secure a cougar for a future shoot and is now pressed into service when Emily orders him and Paul to haul ass down to the student demonstration. Marion, Luke’s ex-Friend-with-Benefits, has just phoned in an order to shoot a public fuck for public consumption.

Excerpt:

Luke and Paul stopped at the edge of the crowd. The cacophony of voices, some amplified by megaphones in the classic call-and-response that invited the agitated students to chant in unison, was almost overwhelming.

‘One, Two, Three, Four. We can’t afford to pay no more!’

A police whistle blew and a rowdy protester was captured by cops. The crowd roared its disapproval.

Luke raised the camera. ‘Marion was right about this. It’s wild.’ He shot the protester, who had gone limp, being dragged off to a police van. ‘Don’t get caught, man. I think fucking in a public place might be against the law.’

‘I’m not going be doing any Marion-fucking, my friend.’

‘Huh?’

Paul shook his head. ‘I’m on her no-fly zone. It’s in our files.’

‘Fuck. Emily doesn’t even look at the files anymore. She just tells everyone what she wants and expects them to hop to it. Goddam it!’

‘Sorry man. So, I shoot, you fuck.’

Luke made a split second decision. ‘OK. Here.’ He handed Paul the camera. ‘It’ll be fast and dirty. I’m gonna make a beeline for that sexy bitch and she sure as hell better have her panties off when I get there.’

Paul steadied the camera on his shoulder. ‘At least there’s a lot of press here.’

‘Yeah, maybe if we’re real lucky we’ll make the six o’clock news.’ Luke glowered.

‘I mean I’ll blend right in. I hope.’ Paul flashed Luke another grin. ‘Ready?’

‘I’m more than ready. Stay close, dude. I’m gonna fuck her up the ass until she passes out from pleasure.’

‘Whoa! I’m right behind you! Rolling!’

Luke started through the crowd. His blood was boiling. Little Emily who couldn’t take more than a pinkie up her bum without crying like a Vestal fucking virgin had whored him out again. Without so much as a ‘would you mind, Luke?’

‘Sorry,’ he muttered as he trod on someone’s foot. ‘Man on a mission.’

As a matter of fact, Luke didn’t mind at all. He hadn’t had anal sex since he’d given up fucking for making love with someone so sweet he’d thought he could live without a butt fuck for the rest of his life, if he had to. But ‘sweet’ no longer described Emily. So, if she wasn’t willing to give a man what a man wants, a man, a real man, would get it somewhere else.

The thought of sinking his dick into Marion’s eager asshole was so enticing he was practically running. Paul had better keep up because he sure as hell wasn’t slowing down.

She was easy to spot. Her hennaed head of riotous curls stood out even in a crowd as large and rowdy as this one. Just as she’d said, she was pressed up against the barricade, chanting along with the rest of the crowd. She’d be singing a different tune in a couple of minutes.

Marion didn’t so much as look to see who it was that suddenly grabbed her from behind. She just tilted her ass back, inviting ‘a stranger’ to do whatever he wanted.

He unzipped his pants and flipped up her full, short skirt, exposing her bare ass for a flash. Luke gripped his dick, dipped his knees and jammed his raging hard-on up her ass. No fuss, no muss.

Marion gasped. She froze, both hands gripping the barricade to keep her balance as her assailant rammed the full length of his rod inside her.

‘Atta girl,’ he whispered. ‘Take my great big dick up your ass like the anal slut you are.’

‘What the hell!’ Marion enunciated as best she could, given the circumstances. Obviously, she was doing her part to make sure their dialogue didn’t get lost in the roar of the crowd. ‘Who the fuck are you?’

‘None of your business.’ Luke, taking his cue from Marion, spoke as clearly as he could and as loudly as he dared. ‘What the fuck difference does it make, bitch? I’ve got what you want. Admit it.’

He pushed harder, jamming her up against the barricade and burying his dick another quarter inch inside her.

‘I want it!’

She knew who it was. He was sure of it. Luke’s memory was flooded with images of Marion and him fucking each other’s brains out. It’d been so easy. So goddam fucking easy. And so much fucking fun.

‘Diddle your clit if you want to come because I don’t give a fuck if you do or not.’

One of Marion’s hands dropped from the barricade. She wriggled it down between the barricade and her body and slid it under the hem of her skirt. She swayed a little.

Now that Luke was inside her both hands were free. He kept one on her shoulder and grabbed the railing of the barricade with the other.

‘Christ,’ he hissed.

‘What the hell?’ A shocked voice let him know they’d been spotted. No time to waste.

‘Hey!’ This voice came from the other side of the barricade. The cops would be on him in a moment. He didn’t care. If they tried to drag him off he’d drag her with him. They’d have to hose the two of them down to separate them now.

Marion moaned. ‘Oh my God . . . ’

Luke fucked her hard and fast. It was heaven to be inside her tight, hot little asshole. It was . . . it was . . . almost too much . . .

‘Fuck!’ The first spurt of come seemed to be sucked from his whole body, from his firmly planted feet to the top of his head.

She whimpered. ‘I’m gonna come. Don’t stop. Please . . . I’m coming right fucking now!’

Her cunt contracted so violently her tunnel squeezed the length of his prick and he spurted again and again and again and again . . .

Luke sunk his teeth into the back of her neck, like a mutt claiming its bitch. It was the only way he could keep from howling.

‘Po po,’ muttered a voice behind him. Right. Paul.

Here came the long arm of the law.

But it didn’t matter. Luke was done. He pulled out, zipped up and took off. He didn’t know if Paul was behind him or had kept his camera on Marion. He didn’t know and he didn’t care. At the moment, he didn’t even care if Marion was getting lost in the crowd or dragged off to the cop van. He was free and that’s all that really mattered.

Free.

* As of this writing Black Lace is back and Mischief is thriving. Madeline Moore eagerly anticipates a bidding war between Random House and Harper-Collins for her upcoming novel, Vanilla Valentine. She also eagerly awaits Santa Claus. Not necessarily in that order.

** For those who care, this essay (excerpt excepted) is written in Canadian English.

Buy Pretty As A Porn Star:

http://www.mischiefbooks.com/  (I’m on the front page! Go now!)

http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=node%3D341689031&field-keywords=pretty+as+a+porn+star&x=0&y=0

Coming soon to Amazon.com and Amazon.ca but if you need something to tide you over, you can buy Felix Baron’s petite novel Look At Me! at Amazon’s Kindle store. Just search for Mischief Erotica and scroll through the titles. The gang’s all here!

Visit my blog and blow my mind:

http://moremadelinemoore.blogspot.ca/

Find me on Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/madeline.moore.906

Tweet me on Twitter:

https://twitter.com/MsMadelineMoore

Or, you know, just leave a comment here! Thanks KD! You’re a gracious hostess, indeed.

Xoxo Mad

Madeline Moore writes contemporary, paranormal and fantasy erotica. In another guise she has co-authored one crime novel and is a produced screenwriter. Madeline is Felix Baron’s fiancée!

New Release by Adriana Kraft – Too Close for Comfort

Series: Swinging Games, Book Nine

ABOUT SWINGING GAMES, THE SERIES: Are you curious about the swing lifestyle? Have you ever wondered what it would be like to participate in a threesome or more-some? How about a little voyeurism? In our Swinging Games series at Extasy Books you can experience the thrill of anticipation, the anxious moments of that first lifestyle encounter, the heat of three, four and more-way erotic adventures, house parties, swing clubs and more, through the eyes of our hero and heroine, Brett and Jennifer Andrews. Here’s how they got their start:

What’s a girl to do? Happily married with all her children grown, Jennifer Andrews has finally figured out she’s bi-sexual – but just turning on to hot f/f fiction and videos isn’t enough. She wants the real thing, and she want to share it with Brett. Addition sounds so much better than subtraction. Will the swing lifestyle be the answer they’re seeking? They’re determined to find out.

BLURB: Too Close for Comfort

It all seemed so simple: Sarah Creston would move in for the summer, Brett and Jen Andrews could revel in their new threesome, and everyone else would understand. But now Donna and Ryan – their best friends and lovers – won’t speak to them, and Jen seems so infatuated with Sarah that even Brett is worried about the consequences.

Battered from the double whammy of her husband’s death and caring for her aging parents, Sarah Creston thrills to Jen and Brett’s exquisite care and ravishing sex. Now that she’s had her first taste of a woman, will she be satisfied – or will she want more?  Everything hinges on what Sarah wants.

AVAILABLE FROM

http://www.extasybooks.com/too-close-for-comfort/

http://www.amazon.com/Close-Comfort-Swinging-Games-ebook/dp/B008IVMFVK

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Close-Comfort-Swinging-Games-ebook/dp/B008IVMFVK/ref=sr_1_10?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1342697016&sr=1-10

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-toocloseforcomfort-910778-146.html

http://www.fictionwise.com/ebooks/b134448/Too-Close-for-Comfort/Adriana-Kraft/?si=0

REVIEW Read what author and reviewer Destiny Blaine had to say at Romance Reviews by Authors: http://romancereviewsbyauthors.blogspot.com/2012/08/book-review-too-close-for-comfort-by.html

With a gift for writing remarkable dialogue, Adriana Kraft used her characters to show how swingers are able to manage the lifestyle, hold a marriage together, and pursue other relationship interests while remaining true to their lifelong commitments. The scenes between multiple lovers weren’t forced or unnatural. In fact they were beautifully relayed in a fashion which draws the reader into the heart of these characters’ most intimate moments.

 

EXCERPT

“I don’t want you hurt, Jen.” Brett crossed his legs and uncrossed them. “Hell, I don’t like seeing our friends hurt, either.”

“I know. I know. But you’ll support me.”

“Of course, I will. But Sarah is her own person in all of this. She may not fit into our lives at all over time. We might just be a stepping stone on her journey.”

Jen tensed, certain Brett could see the blood draining from her cheeks.

“She may become too possessive.” Brett twisted his mouth in thought. “Or maybe she’ll be more like us than you realize.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe she’ll be as intrigued and fulfilled with swinging as we are.”

“Do you really think she’ll swing on her own?”

“She found us, didn’t she?”

“Yes, but…”

“Maybe she’ll swing with us. Maybe she’ll swing on her own. Maybe this taste of swinging with us will satisfy her curiosity by the end of summer and she’ll be ready to go find a guy and live happily ever after.”

“But you don’t believe that?”

“Who knows? Given how I saw her respond to her first taste of a woman, it’s hard to imagine she’ll give up women completely.

Jen wet her lips. “She was wonderful. I’m just so pleased I was her first.”

“I know you are. All I’m saying is I’ll be surprised if you’re Sarah’s only woman.”

Jen crossed her arms under her breasts. “I know that.” Her voice cracked. “No matter what you think or Donna or Ryan…” Jen felt her pulse quicken. “I’m not wanting to keep Sarah for myself. But she needs time.”

“Okay.” Brett exhaled softly. “Time is what you have. But I’m not sure Sarah’s timetable and Donna and Ryan’s timetable are going to necessarily match yours.”

 

ABOUT ADRIANA KRAFT

Adriana Kraft is the pen name under which my husband and I co-write erotic romance. I don’t know if that makes us hot, but it sure heats up our lives, and we love passing on the spice and the heat to our readers. Our tag line is Erotic Romance for Two, Three, or More, so you can probably guess ménage is our favorite genre to write. Romance Junkies says our work is “filled with warmth, blazing hot sex, well-developed characters…not for the faint of heart.”  We hope you’ll stop by and check us out!

ADRIANA KRAFT ON THE WEB:

Website: http://www.adrianakraft.com/

Blog: http://www.adrianakraft.com/blog

FaceBook http://www.facebook.com/people/Adriana-Kraft/100001944980679

FaceBook author page http://www.facebook.com/pages/Adriana-Kraft/182846025133440

Twitter http://twitter.com/AdrianaKraft

GoodReads http://www.goodreads.com/author/list/1578571.Adriana_Kraft

Midnight Seductions http://midnightseductionsauthors.blogspot.com/

Sapphic Planet: http://www.sapphicplanet.com

The Fully-formed Birth of Vina Jackson

After some IT glitches and a two-day game of email tag, it’s my pleasure to welcome the multi-facetted Vina Jackson, author of the exciting new erotic romance Eighty Days Yellow to a Hopeful Romantic.

As I write, EIGHTY DAYS YELLOW by Vina Jackson is no 6 on the Sunday Times bestseller list and has been in the top ten for the last three weeks.

But if a computer hadn’t engineered for two total strangers to sit quite by chance on opposite seats on a train from London to the provinces, John Grisham’s new novel might be no 6 instead and, worse, Vina Jackson would not exist at all!

Fate certainly moves in mysterious ways.

Vina Jackson is actually two writers, writing together under a pseudonym.  Yet until a few months ago we had never even met.

It all began when one of us was invited to attend a literary festival outside London, while the other decided to attend at short notice and purchased a ticket, on the recommendation of a friend.

So, on a very early Saturday morning as winter was turning into spring, both of us arrived at Euston station, with tickets booked online, only to find a train which was at best barely 10% full and our allocated seats facing each other while the rest of the carriage barely housed half a dozen other travellers. Any of us could have moved elsewhere in the carriage to enjoy more privacy, but then this is Britain and we all probably felt it would be rude to do so.

For hours we all sat together, respectively reading, daydreaming, listening to music on iPods or eating, saying not a word to one another only to discover, several hours afterwards at the literary festival while drinking the welcoming coffee, that the three of us that had all been grouped together by the bookings computer were attending the same event… and had all taken separate taxis from the station.

Several weeks later one of us contacted the other for some professional advice and thus two strangers who had met by chance on a train began emailing regularly.

We were both writers with a penchant for racey romance, and in passing one of us mentioned an unusual story about an antique violin that they’d read in a newspaper. Perverse minds think alike and we both thought there was a stub of an idea for a novel there, ready to be written. And then we moved on to other matters, stories to write, lives to live, other things to do.

A few months passed and the idea to write a novel together  kept bubbling away so we decided to meet up at London’s Groucho Club and later exchanged ideas and suggestions over meals in Chinatown.  And it was then that we agreed to write four opening chapters, in alternate voices, and to then send it to a literary agent to see if there was anything there to interest a publisher.

We came up with the character of the violin player busking in the Tube and the university professor who is captivated by her playing and we improvised some way they could meet. Thus Summer and Dominik were born. And so was Vina Jackson. Along with a proposal and several sample chapters for two novels, featuring their adventures in the world of sex and BDSM.

The literary agent Sarah Such loved the material and signed us up, submitting to London publishing houses within a few days. And overnight the first offers began coming in. As the level of interest grew, so did the size of the offers as well as the suggestion that it could even make a trilogy. So Vina Jackson agreed to write a third volume, and soon a six-figure deal was done with the wonderful folk at Orion.

By then, of course, the collected works of E.L. James were weaving their magic on the bestseller lists and Orion suggested we could maybe write all three books in 3 months. Vina didn’t protest too much and agreed, to ensure the trilogy would be published within weeks of delivery of the respective manuscripts, and catch the zeitgeist.

The first volume EIGHTY DAYS YELLOW was published in early August, and its sequels EIGHTY DAYS BLUE and EIGHTY DAYS RED are out in September and October. It will soon be published in the USA by Open Road Media and so far has sold translation rights in ten territories, including Germany, France, Italy and Japan.

It was never meant to rival Fifty Shades of Grey, as neither of us have even read it! But we did want to write a strong erotic romance, with believable characters and non-stop action, which we hope is well-written and entertaining. And that you enjoy reading the EIGHTY DAYS trilogy.

Meanwhile beware who you sit opposite next time you take a train.  You may end up writing a racey romance trilogy with a complete stranger…

Blurb:

Caught in a frustrating relationship with a man who can’t accept her for who she is, passionate, flame-haired violinist Summer finds release in her music. She spends her afternoons busking on the underground, lost in the works of Vivaldi or Mendelssohn. When her violin is damaged beyond repair, Summer receives a surprising proposition from Dominik, a university professor with powerful desires, who has been captivated by Summer ever since he heard her perform. Dominik will replace her priceless violin, but only if she agrees to play for him in a private concert.

Unable to deny the chemistry between them, Dominik and Summer embark on an intense affair full of daring twists and turns, as unpredictable as it is thrilling. For Summer it is a chance to finally embrace her long-denied dark side, but she’ll soon learn that where there’s pleasure must come pain. And can a relationship born of such all-consuming passion, ever really survive?

Exhilarating, seductive and tantalisingly bold, EIGHTY DAYS is a love story that will leave you breathless for more.

Buy Eighty Days Yellow here:

eBook:

Amazon.co.uk

Amazon.com

Print:

Amazon.co.uk

Amazon.com (pre-order)

 

 

 

Perfect Mate by Mina Carter

Perfect MateMonsters do exist…and they’re the good guys.

Lillian Rosewood leads an ordinary, boring life working as the manager of a psychiatric hospital. The highlights of her day, other than her skinny hot chocolate, are the hunky guards who work in the secure section. Until a late night emergency is wheeled in.

Captain Jack Harper is insane, drop-dead gorgeous…and just had his abdomen shredded. Despite the fact they’re not an emergency room, Lillian can’t turn him away and risk a death on her hands. Unable to get the handsome soldier out of her mind, Lillian sneaks into the restricted area to check on him. What she finds is beyond belief. Somehow Jack has managed to heal himself from a near fatal wound in mere hours.

When one of the doctors, Walker, attempts to rape her, things go from bad to worse. In the blink of an eye, Jack is loose and Walker is dead… and Lillian must accept a truth about her rescuer that will change her world forever. What if the patients aren’t insane? What if their stories of secret government experiments and monsters are true?

Warning: Contains blood, mayhem and nude werewolves operating heavy weaponry. Large amounts of sarcasm, and smart-ass vampires may offend some readers. No civilian hospital staff were harmed in the making of this story.

More info and buy links: http://mina-carter.com/bookshelf/paranormal-romance/perfect-mate/

Copyright © 2012 Mina Carter
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

She couldn’t believe she was crying. Lillian didn’t cry. Ever. She was tougher than that. Tougher than the stereotypical little woman who fell apart at the first sign of danger… Or the mother who couldn’t cope after the death of her husband and hightailed it to her lover with teary demands to “make the nightmare go away”. And conveniently forgot the fact she’d left her baby daughter behind.

She was not that woman, nor anything like her.

Once in the corridor, away from the stench of death and the sight of all that black, wrong blood, she stepped away from Jack and swiped at her tears with the back of her hand. Despite the fact he’d just killed a man, there was something about him that made her feel safe. Safe with a murderer. Okay, now she knew she was losing it. Perhaps insanity ran in her family and they’d just never told her?

“I’m sorry. I’m not normally like this,” she apologized as she looked up and offered a small, teary smile. Her mouth already open to explain, she stopped.

He was gorgeous.

She’d known that. When they’d brought him in, her mind had told her that he was sex on a stick. But he’d been injured, a patient. Even though she was the hospital manager, she was bound by the patient-doctor thing, surely? The one that said “thou shalt not lust after the patients”.

Now though, without all the blood and the ragged uniform—even in the hospital gown that did nothing for anyone—he was so good-looking it took her breath away. She shook her head slightly, waiting for the hidden cameras and some cheesy reality show host to burst out of the supply cabinet in the corridor next to them. He couldn’t be for real. Soldiers just didn’t look that good.

With warm amber eyes set above sharp cheekbones, his face was bisected by a strong, straight nose over sensually full lips. A severe buzz-cut merely highlighted his attractiveness, concentrating all attention on his face. He should be strutting his stuff on a catwalk, not getting down and dirty playing soldier.

Her eyes travelled downward, and the rest of him more than fulfilled the promise of his face. He was toned…hell no, he was ripped. Even his muscles had muscles. Tall and broad shouldered, he was built like a quarterback, and his life had obviously been one of violence. Old scars dotted his skin like a mad artist had gone to town with his body as the canvas.

“I know you’re not. You’re strong.”

His words drew her attention back to his face. His eyes were blue again. He smiled, which almost robbed her of reason, but she held onto the thought for grim death. No one’s eyes changed that fast. What the hell have they done to him?

“Your eyes… What the hell are you?”

The smile turned cold, his features freezing around it and locking it into place. In hindsight, perhaps a demand for information wasn’t the best way to deal with this, especially after what had gone on in the room behind them. Walker was slumped, dead, but somehow she knew Jack wouldn’t hurt her.

He moved toward her. Only three steps, but with those blue eyes intent upon her, it seemed more like a stalk. With every movement he made, her instincts screamed “predator”.

She held her ground, tilting her head to look at him as he neared. He stopped inches away from her, so close the heat of his body beat at her skin even through her clothing and his gown.

“We don’t have time for this, Lilly.”

He lifted a hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. As though he couldn’t stop touching her, he stroked a gentle finger down her cheekbone to the corner of her lips. It took everything she had not to turn her head and press into the small caress, but she held true to her purpose, her eyes on his.

“Make time.”

His lips quirked, and everything female in her went into meltdown. He had to know the effect he had on women, so she ignored the reaction and met him look for look.

“Stubborn little minx.”

She choked. “What did you call me?”

“Minx,” he repeated, lowering his head and brushing his lips over hers to silence her. As a tactic, it worked. The first touch of his lips, warm and firm over hers, was like setting light to kindling. Heat flared and caught, racing through her body like wildfire.

She moaned, unable to stop her lips parting automatically in invitation. No matter what her mind was screaming about the dead guy in the next room and the possibility the hunk stood in front of her wasn’t just human, her body knew what it wanted, and what it intended to get.

He didn’t pass up the invitation. Groaning, he moved closer and deepened the kiss. With a ruthless sweep of his tongue, he parted her lips farther and slid into the softer recesses of her mouth. She shivered, hot and cold chills chasing over her skin as he kissed her in the darkness of the corridor.

She’d been kissed before and, as she’d thought anyway, she’d been kissed well. This was something else entirely. He kissed her as if there was nothing else in the world. As if she was his sun, his moon and stars…his everything. He didn’t kiss her, he made love to her with his lips and tongue.

Abruptly he broke away, tearing his mouth from hers. With a groan of frustration, he leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers.

“I don’t want to let you go.” The tone in his voice pulled on her heartstrings. “When they brought me in, there was just pain and blood…so much blood. Darkness was coming for me, and I was ready. But an angel called my name… I had to come back to see if she was as beautiful as she sounded.”

His words reached deep inside her. She already thought he was gorgeous, but to have him spouting words that…romantic wasn’t the word. The claim he’d come back just to see her, that hit her deep down and resonated in her soul.

“And…?”

She almost dared not ask the question, and when she did, her voice emerged breathy and hopeful. Like a teen finally meeting and speaking to her film idol in the flesh.

“Oh yes, she was worth it.”

More info and buy links: http://mina-carter.com/bookshelf/paranormal-romance/perfect-mate/

*****

Mina Carter was born and raised in Middle Earth (otherwise known as the Midlands, England). After a slew of careers ranging from logistics to land-surveying she can now be found in the wilds of Leicestershire with her husband and young daughter…the true boss of the family.

Suffering the curse of eternal curiosity Mina never tires of learning new skills which has led to Aromatherapy, Corsetry, Chain-maille making, Welding, Canoeing, Shooting, and pole-dancing to name but a few.

A full time author and cover artist, Mina can usually be found hunched over a keyboard or graphics tablet, frantically trying to get the images and words in her head out and onto the screen before they drive her mad. She’s addicted to coffee and Nutella on toast.

Links:

http://mina-carter.com

http://twitter.com/minacarter

http://www.facebook.com/mina.carter