Category Archives: Guest Blogger

Victoria Blisse Tells Why it’s Always Christmas in Lincoln

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The lovely Victoria Blisse has taken time out from the festivities of  the fabulous Blissemas Blog Hop to stop in and tell us a story behind the story. And in keeping with the spirit of the season, she’s going to tell us what inspired her hot new story, Always Christmas in Lincoln. Welcome, Victoria, and happy holidays!

There’s always more to a story than meets the eye and that is certainly true for Always Christmas in Lincoln.

It was back in May when I came up with the idea. I went down to Lincoln to join in with the Lincoln book festival with one of my publishers, Total-E-Bound. I experienced Steep Hill very soon after arriving, in fact I had to drag my luggage up it! I was very relieved to find a lovely ice cream shop at the top of that hill I can tell you!

So it was the second time I’d visited Lincoln, I’d been a few years earlier for the Christmas Markets with my mum. It was a lovely trip and it was extra cold and frosty at the time we went, very festive indeed. I was reminded of that visit in the evening when I was enjoying a meal with Nikki, Claire and Heidi from the TEB gang and fellow authors Liz Coldwell and Serena Yates.

We were in a very nice Thai restaurant enjoying a very delicious meal when we noticed that running all round the windows and over the ceiling were…Christmas decorations! Reindeers and Angels if I remember correctly! We made comment about them then and there but the conversation moved on. We found out about Serena Yates love of spreadsheets which she shares with Nikki in fact and talked books, promotion and life.

Anyway, after lovely food we went for drinkies together in the hotel and as we walked up the driveway we noticed all the bushes were lit up with bright white fairy lights and Liz commented. “It’s always Christmas in Lincoln.” And bam, I had a book title and all I needed to do was write the story to go with it! As I lay in bed that night I thought over ideas for my story and by morning I’d thumbed out a quick plot on my phone.

So I have to thanks the authors there that night and especially Liz because without them this story wouldn’t have been born!

It was June when I wrote Always Christmas in Lincoln and so the story starts in Summer! I found it really interesting to be writing something so festive set in the middle of a heatwave. How did I do it? I created a year-round Christmas shop in Lincoln!

Now you know the inspiration behind the story, let’s find out about the actual story!

It isn’t really always Christmas in Lincoln but when Felicity gets her man it feels like it.

Felicity hates Christmas. It reminds her of a traumatic event from her childhood. She thinks the Permanent Christmas shop is tacky, with its windows full of trees and tinsel all year round and would rather it disappeared from her picturesque home town.

When she discovers that Carl, who she lusts over every time she sees him in the tea rooms, is in fact the owner of Ho, Ho, Ho! She’s not quite sure what to think. It takes a sexy meeting in the middle of a fake winter wonderland to make her realise the advantages of Christmas in the middle of summer.

As time passes, Carl and Felicity indulge in more sexy liaisons but as Christmas approaches Felicity doubts whether she is anything more than a sensual distraction for the festive shop owner and when her handsome ex, Sean, sweeps into town on a quest to win her back she finds she has a tough decision to make.

Can Carl and his Christmas cheer win over her hardened heart?

And now an excerpt, a very, very hot excerpt:

It was very surreal being surrounded by snow, even fake snow, in the middle of summer. Every time I bobbed my head up and down on his delicious dick—I swear it tasted of gingerbread and cinnamon—something different would catch my eye. The green and red- scarfed penguin lying on its side next to me or the grinning Santa on a rocking chair up on the shelf. Each had a smug smile that I was sure signaled how much they liked the show.

It was very hot—I suspect I was a little delirious at the time. I pulled my focus back to the man in front of me. I listened to his groans, his pants, and felt the push of his hips as he showed me exactly how much he was enjoying the feel of my mouth around his cock and encouraged me to take him deeper and to suck harder.

“Fuck, Fliss,” he gasped, “you’re amazing.”

I smiled up at him and winked. I slowly withdrew him from my mouth and ran my tongue around his tip.

“I really want to fuck you,” Carl groaned breathlessly. “Really want to. Really.”

“Say pretty please,” I teased, just as eager to feel his hardness inside me as he was to fill me.

“Please?” he begged.

I twirled my fingers around his tip and stroked down his shaft. I let my mischievous side out to play and grinned wickedly at him, but didn’t move an inch.

“Pretty please with a cherry on top?” he pleaded desperately.

“Well, since you ask so nicely…” I let the sentence linger and moved myself forward slightly. This was all the permission Carl needed. He lunged forward and caught me off balance. As we rolled around, tinkling and clanking noises surrounded us, but we weren’t worried about damaged or out of place stock. After much rolling and giggling, I ended up below him, my skirt around my waist and his cock straining against the material of my knickers.

“I’ve dreamt about this for so long.” He worked the damp fabric to one side and slid a thick, warm finger into me. “You’re gorgeous.”

I was surprised—I’d hardly realised he knew who I was and wouldn’t have ever even imagined he’d thought of me in a sexual way.

“I didn’t know.” The words came in between moans and panting breaths as he finger-fucked me, finding and manipulating my clit and seeking out the sensitive spots inside me. “I’ve been watching you for months and I didn’t realise you even knew I existed.”

“Oh, I knew.” He nodded. “I watched you all the time from behind my newspaper in the café.”His finger left me and I longed for more contact. A moment later, his dick pushed at my entrance and filled me. A streak of warm excitement flashed through my insides, creating a paradox of completion and desire that drove my hips up to meet his first thrust. “But believe it or not,” he continued, “I’m shy and I didn’t know how to approach you.”

We looked at each other and laughed.

“You conquered your shyness, then,” I said. “I’m glad you did.”

“So am I.”

Always Christmas in Lincoln is available from Total-E-Bound now!

Have you ever celebrated or thought about Christmas in Summer?

Jeremy Edwards Shares the Story behind The Pleasure Dial

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The Pleasure Dial: An Erotocomedic Novel of Old-Time Radio

by Jeremy Edwards

It began with a city: Los Angeles.

I’ve set stories in Boston, New York, Philadelphia, and San Francisco; in Hartford, Cleveland, Chicago, Providence, and Miami; in Florence, in London, in Ottawa, and in Brussels.

And, on a couple of occasions, I’ve set them in Los Angeles: specifically, in Hollywood—or rather within “Hollywood,” the several areas of greater Los Angeles in which big-budget motion pictures are made.

Despite these earlier excursions into Los Angeles, there came a time when I was contemplating a new Los Angeles story. And it didn’t take much contemplation to determine that my new LA story would be an old LA story. I would be returning to “Hollywood,” but the Hollywood of an earlier epoch.

Eventually I decided to write, not a short story, but a full-length book set in that world.

You see, I’m a fan of classic radio comedy (the sillier the better), and I also love the risqué deliciousness seen in some of the early talkies. The combination of alluring sexuality and inspired silliness that was sometimes produced before the movie studios became prudish and zany humor went out of fashion lines up very well with my own sensibilities; and so although I usually work with contemporary settings, I realized that the Hollywood of the early 1930s would be a perfect environment for a Jeremy Edwards erotocomedic novel.

I’d been doing a lot of reading about what it was like to be a staff writer for radio and television comedy programs in the mid-twentieth century (just for my own interest—I didn’t realize at the time it was “research”!)—and I fell in love with the idea of putting witty radio writers at the center of my next sexy adventure. Not only could these people be the ideal protagonists for the cocktail of sensuality and repartee I was planning, but I could play at being an old-time radio writer myself, as I fleshed out the bits of “show within the show” programming that would be found here and there in my book. And, when sitting in my writing room and taking my characters into their writing room, I could orchestrate discussions such as this one:

“Look at this: first page,” said Mariel. “Heffy says he’s brewing some tea. There is absolutely nothing funny about brewing tea, Mickey.”

“It’s only an incidental line,” said a writer named Howard.

“Nothing is incidental in good comedy,” Mariel retorted. “Heffy should say he’s boiling an egg. Now that’s amusing—though offhand I couldn’t say why.”

Choosing the precise year in which my novel is set—though as it happens it’s mentioned only in the blurb, not the book proper—took some care. On the one hand, I wanted radio comedy and talking pictures to be well established by the point at which we enter my version of Old Hollywood. Likewise, I wanted to make sure we were clear of Prohibition (repealed at the end of 1933), so that I wouldn’t have to sneak my characters drinks instead of letting them enjoy their scotch, champagne, and Bloody Marys free of logistical complications.

On the other hand, I wanted to keep my story within the era prior to the motion-picture industry’s serious compliance with the so-called Hays Code—the studios’ puritanical self-censorship agreement that, according to my reference source, had been created in 1930 but did not have an important influence until the second half of 1934. I wanted the entertainment world inhabited by my characters to be the “pre-Hays” world of sexy scenes and madcap comedy. (As noted above, it seems to me that comedy, for whatever reason and sex aside, became less whimsical in the Hays era, generally speaking. Even the Marx Brothers became a little stodgier.)

And so my book is set in the spring of 1934. As you can see, I wasn’t left with much of a window!

Let’s take a look through that window … into the home of screen idol Lila Lowell, where a group of my characters have congregated.

EXCERPT

“The show Friday night was fabulous,” Nanette continued. “I don’t mind telling you we listened to it in bed.” She stroked Lila’s thigh through her kimono.

Artie watched Elyse’s eyes light up, as they did so frequently, with sexual interest. “I’m very glad you told me that. Damn, to think of two such beautiful women in bed, enjoying … me. *Lila Lowell* and her woman,” she continued, as if telling herself an erotic bedtime story, “in bed—after a fashion—with me. Oh, my my my.”

She shivered erogenously while she spoke. For his part, Artie found that he had his hand in his pocket, and that he was discreetly tickling his cock to the rhythm of Elyse’s voice.

She turned to him now. “Can’t you just see them, Artie? Undressed and exquisite in bed, touching each other and listening to me—perhaps visualizing me there with them?”

Artie figured Elyse was about the only person in the world who could say something like that without sounding remotely egotistical. Remarks like this were all in a day’s work for a sex goddess.

Nanette made eye contact with Lila, who nodded again. “Would you like to see that, Elyse?” Nanette asked.

“You bet,” Artie blurted.

Mariel gently elbowed him, snickering. “The question was not addressed to you.”

“Sorry.” He blushed. “It’s … er … a side effect of writing her dialogue.”

Lila smiled tolerantly.

“Well, Mariel, we’re all good friends here,” said Nanette.

Elyse was already squirming in her checkers chair, with a palm situated suggestively at the apex of her legs. “You would let me be there while you loved?”

“You’ll just have to bring a chair into the bedroom,” said Nanette. She looked inquisitively at Lila, who grinned shyly, and then at Artie. “Okay—three chairs.”

“I told you Lila would quickly become comfortable with you,” Mariel said to Artie as they carried the furniture down the hall.

When the two women reclined naked on their bed, their appearances were thrown into an aesthetic contrast. Lila, as every moviegoer knew, was tall, black-haired, and thin, with breasts like small scrumptious pastries and a round little bubble of an ass. Nanette, in turn, was blonde, compact, and on the voluptuous side. And although, by her own account, Nanette had left the tub long before Miss Lowell, Artie noticed that she still looked positively ripe from her bath, lusciously warm and rosy, while Lila looked stunningly sepulchral as always.

Their bodies faced each other; their heads, framed by deep purple pillows, faced Elyse, who had stripped to her underwear before posing on a chair at the foot of the bed.

“Isn’t it clever,” Mariel said to Artie, “how the best entertainment in Hollywood occurs behind closed doors?”

BLURB

The year is 1934, and amiable New York gag writer Artie Plask has taken the West Coast plunge. His first day on staff with a top radio show introduces him to the irresistible Mariel Fenton, a wit among wits who immediately takes an interest in all aspects of Artie’s life—especially his private life. As Artie finds his feet in a world of blustering comedians, pansexual sex goddesses, timid screen legends, exhibitionistic scriptwriters, and self-infatuated geniuses, Mariel leads him on a zany journey up and down the pleasure dial—a giddy romp through Hollywood that’s chock-full of airwaves showdowns, writing-room counterplots, devious impersonations, naked meetings, and a sensuality-drenched assortment of erotic escapades.

BUY LINK:

http://oceroticbooks.com/ebooks/the-pleasure-dial-an-erotocomedic-novel-of-old-time-radio

BIO

Jeremy Edwards is the author of the erotocomedic novel Rock My Socks Off (Xcite Books, 2010), the erotic story collection Spark My Moment (Xcite Books, 2010), and most recently The Pleasure Dial: An Erotocomedic Novel of Old-Time Radio (OC Press, 2011). His quirky, libidinous tales have appeared in over fifty anthologies, including three volumes in the Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica series, and he has read his work live at New York’s In the Flesh and Philadelphia’s Erotic Literary Salon. Jeremy’s greatest goal in life is to be sexy and witty at the same moment—ideally in lighting that flatters his profile. Readers can drop in on him unannounced (and thereby catch him in his underwear) at www.jeremyedwardserotica.com.

Peter Birch Talks Inspiration and Seasonal Sex

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I had the pleasure of meeting Peter Birch at Erotica this year. The fellow walker and man of many pseudonyms was dressed like Father Christmas and spreading good cheer, seasonal and otherwise.  I’m delighted that he’s decided to stop by my site on his blog tour promoting the fabulous Pete and Sarah’s Guide to Seasonal Sex. Welcome Peter!

I feel rather good after reading KD’s blog introduction. Now I know I’m not the only person who wanders the English countryside with a glazed expression while thinking out the details of erotic novels. To me, it’s simply the best way to get ideas, create suitably tangled plots, let characters take on some depth, anything really. All ten books of my Truscott Saga (written as Aishling Morgan, just to avoid confusion) have benefited from long walks on Dartmoor, often to the places where the action is set, while whenever my mind jams up a simple walk to the local park is almost guaranteed to clear the cogs. Walking allows me to think in a way that’s impossible when sat in front of a computer.

An exception is when it comes to the juicy details, as I try to draw as much of the actual erotic content of my books from real experience as I possibly can, either my own, or when that’s not practical, that of friends. That applies to all three of my pieces in the winter edition of Pete and Sarah’s Guide. I really do dress up as Santa Claus for fetish parties, and believe me, the effect is magical, while I’ve been giving and receiving spankings since my teens. Even the entirely imaginary erotic indulgences in my story, A Winter Feast, are drawn from reality, although highly polished.

No doubt some will disagree, perhaps arguing that I’m placing limits on my imagination, but I see experience as a tool to be used in my craft when needed and set aside when not needed. Obviously the scenes with the octopus god in Deep Blue never actually happened, but even then the physical sensations come from real, and fairly unusual, experience. That’s been gathered across years, and it was the experience that I put into my pieces for Fetish Times back in the mid-nineties that led to me being invited to try out a novel for Nexus, Virgin’s now sadly defunct erotica imprint.

My other source of inspiration comes from reading. I’ve always loved erotica and devoured the good the bad and the downright awful from an early age, usually with appreciation but also with a critical eye, and that has had an inevitable influence on my own work, but it’s very much in the background. My style, my plotting, my structure and all the other things that go to make a worthwhile erotic novel more than just a string of loosely connected sex scenes all come from mainstream authors, or those working in other genres, and not just the obvious greats. Saki, Wodehouse, Jack Vance, have all allowed me to learn a great deal, to the extent that I would argue that in order to write, you first need to read, and read widely.

So that’s my formula, lots of naughtiness in brightly lit bedrooms and disreputable clubs, mixed with hours spent buried in books and taking long country walks. I recommend it to you.

Blurbs:

Pete and Sarah’s Guide To Seasonal Sex – your one stop shop for everything you want to know about seasonal adult activities. Packed with interviews from internationally renowned performers such as Dita Von Teese and Buck Angel, as well as winter themed erotic stories, and seasonal adult articles!

This is THE guide you need to read, whether you are a girl, a boy, or both! Written by former Forum magazine editor Sarah Berry, and world renowned erotic writer Peter Birch, with editing by erotic author Nicky Raven, this new quarterly seasonal adult guide is sure to enlighten, amaze and entertain you through the dark winter months.

Formatted and digitally published globally by erotica book imprint House Of Erotica

Buy links
Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
iTunes

Bio:

Peter Birch has been hopelessly addicted to sex his entire life but has made the best of what society at large sees as a problem. During the ‘eighties, while yuppies were sporting their filofaxes and falking into mobile phones the size of bricks, Peter and his girlfriend were experimenting with the joys of threesomes, dogging and spanking. In the caring ‘nineties he and his wife devoted their time to running sadomasochistic cabarets in London’s more specialised clubs. Finally realising that he needed to earn some money, he took to writing erotica, and has been at it ever since, becoming a prolific novelist, mainly under the Aishling Morgan name, writing guides to kinky sex and dabbling in journalism, which is where he met Sarah Berry.

 

Rebecca Bond Gets Personal About Inspiration

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It’s my pleasure to welcome a woman I consider very much a rising star in the world of erotica, one I am quite honoured to know well enough to call my friend. I’m talking about the fabulous Miss Rebecca Bond. Today Rebecca is going to talk about inspiration on a much more personal, much more intimate level before she gives us a steamy excerpt from her latest, Purest Possession. Welcome, Rebecca!

As I sat on my sofa, cosy and safe from the early autumnal winds that thrashed outside my window, I plugged in my headphones and pressed shuffle on my iTunes library. I am a dreamer. Always have been and always will be. Car, train, office, shop, coffee house, bed. . .it doesn’t matter where I am, I am always daydreaming. For me, music plays a prominent role in the formulation of such imaginings. My rock tunes (Steve Tyler, be still my beating heart) allow me to transport myself into a world of beating drums, scruffy Dave Grohl-alikes, and that raw passion for life. The love song allows me to embrace my inner sappiness for a few moments, living out my romantic Cinderella moments, the happily ever after in my mind. The ‘80s pop song has me reliving many a night of drunken debauchery a-la-university style with my fellow students as we danced ourselves silly at Flares or Reflex.

For me, music evokes memories and inspires dreams. So, whilst listening to the ipodular on a gloomy Saturday afternoon, randomly shuffling my way through the 2734 songs, I was completely thrown by a particularly intense reaction to one track that popped up.

Santus – Libera

The previous evening I had been catching up with a buddy (@ParvRoopray) and our conversation had turned to meditation, as it so often does. Due to upbringing, yoga and meditation have a strong place in Parv’s life, but I don’t care for it. I’m sure it’s all fab, but never have I felt the need to limber up, don a unitard, and pretend to be a tree with a group of strangers. Just not me. But, as she often points out, yoga is a complex art and one which is misunderstood (mainly by me) on so many levels. I do however, often feel as if I’m racing through life at a million miles an hour and asked her for advice regarding meditation. She told me not to force it, that it will happen when it needs to.

And happen it did. As I listened to the song I felt a calmness take over and only once the track had finished did I realise that for the entire 3 minutes 41 seconds I had thought about nothing but the orange leaves being blown from a large heavy oak atop a mount in the countryside. I had not set out to think anything of the like, but I enjoyed the daydream about nothing but a tree and its leaves nonetheless. I had mediated. Win!

So, turns out my buddy was right, I can mediate and perhaps need to practice it more often to enable me to maintain my sense of self. What’s fascinating to me is that, although Parv is Sikh and I’m Protestant, the power of meditation enables us both to reconnect with our respective faiths. For those three plus minutes I felt close to God, whom I have been turning my back on of late. It made me remember Rebecca, the eleven year old singing and dancing at church every week as my Dad played guitar in the church choir, Rebecca, the fifteen year old, at the evening service praying for guidance through some particularly turbulent years, and Rebecca, the 23 year old university student, sending silent prayers into the air to a Lord who I begged to help me battle the illness that had already been rife in my mind and body for eleven years. Bulimia.

Most importantly, it made me remember how through those years and the distress they held; my Lord never once turned his back on me. He kept me right there, nudging me forth through my fears when life became scary. So why is it that now, a grown woman, life stable, I have forgotten Him and all He does for me on a daily basis? Three minutes, 41 seconds of listening to a song and thinking about a tree shedding its leaves in the autumn wind has made me realise that although I lead a happy, healthy life, I cannot discount the power that my faith had in getting me to this point in time.

Today I am thankful. I am thankful for the four aspects within this blog post that intertwine with each other on a daily basis and enable me to indulge in everything great in life. I am thankful for the music that provides inspiration for my writing, I am thankful for my writing that acts as the therapy I need to keep the darkness from my mind, I am thankful for the friendships that allow me to be true to myself, encourage my passion to write and live life to the fullest. And finally, I am thankful for my Lord who has blessed my life with the aforementioned.

What are you thankful for?

If all that was a bit intense for you, go and get your filth on by reading some smut ;D

Blurb:

Celestine is an inexperienced peasant girl who, at twenty-two years of age, still knows nothing of life outside the small French town of Chamboise. For years, she has lived in fear of the inhabitants of Château de Délicieux, all too aware of the punishments that are administered at such an establishment.

When Celestine is summoned to the castle by the High Marquise, little does she know that she is about to embark on a journey of delicious discovery and commit the sweetest of sins. This Sapphic tale tells of the emotion one woman feels as she succumbs to a life of sexual possession at the hands of her mistress.

Purest Possession Extract:

As the guard pushed me through the gate and into the courtyard of the castle, the world began to spin, turned upside down in an instant. I rubbed at my eyes, blinking again and again to make sure what I saw really existed. Male servants tended women, scores and scores of women. I felt the rosy blush creep up my neck and settle in my cheeks as I looked on, never before seeing so much naked flesh. Everyone was naked save for a smattering of jewellery, a pearl earring here, and ruby necklace there.

The men wore tattoos, all identical in design and location—a black dagger pointing towards their hearts.

“It’s a symbol,” a voice behind me said, “a symbol that they are members of the Order Délicieux, servicemen to the Ladies of Chamboise.”

I was in a trance. The sight of women being worshipped in ways my mind couldn’t comprehend hypnotised my young eyes. Flesh was caressed, skin was kissed, nipples plucked, pussies fucked.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” the voice said again. A woman.

I felt a hand brush my long hair over my shoulder and begin to slip my rags from my body. I couldn’t protest, my body fixed to the floor, my mind muddled with confusion. I jumped as her fingers grazed against my mound and turned to look at the stranger.

“Yes, I do believe you think it beautiful.” She brought a finger to her lips, slick and glossy. “Your body certainly does.”

I looked at her, gazing at her lips as she sucked my juice from her slender finger. My skin prickled as I watched her tongue snake out to lap away the remaining residue. There I stood, twenty-two years of age, not a girl, not quite a woman.  I was completely devoid of experience. I didn’t know what it was like to be touched in the ways that happened to those all around me.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “Why am I here?”

https://www.nobleromance.com/Books?author=194

Get involved with Rebecca here:

Twitter: @MissRebeccaBond

Facebook: www.facebook/MissRebeccaBond

Website: www.missrebeccabond.co.uk

The Holidays with Hearts and Diamonds from Nichelle Gregory

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As the holiday season approaches, I’d like to welcome Nichelle Gregory to Hopeful Romantic with a teaser from her latest, Hearts and Diamonds, guaranteed to keep the season extra warm.

Ahhh! The holidays are right around the corner! It’s that time of year when diets go to hell and the drinks and desserts warm you from the inside out! If you can’t tell, I love this season! The decorations, the lights, the music…I adore it all. For me, the holidays are chance to really cherish and enjoy the people in your life that make your world brighter. Yes, we should do this every single day, but it’s easy to forget in the hustle and bustle of the daily grind.

I love spending time decorating my home with my kids, baking sweet treats and sipping pumpkin martinis with my husband when we’re finally alone for the night! These moments are pure magic and I look forward to each one every year.

Hearts & Diamonds, my latest contemporary erotic romance, takes place around the holidays and has plenty of magical moments and sizzling heat to spice up your holiday reading fare! I had a blast interweaving the festive, suspenseful and sexy elements in this tale!Here’s a sneak peek inside Hearts & Diamonds:

Blurb:

Passion sparks the moment Nia Sanders unknowingly meets federal agent Quin Rios.

Nia Sanders knows diamonds. She appreciates and envies the heart-felt emotions of her customers buying them. When federal agent, Quin Rios saves her life in the middle of a violent jewel heist, she finds herself attracted to the sensual possibilities beneath his uber professional, self-contained persona.

Determined to keep her safe as he solves the case, Quin can’t let his attraction to Nia distract him. The heat of their fiery passion consumes them as they both struggle to control their emotions…neither are prepared to lose their heart.

Excerpt:

“I knew you weren’t involved with this mess, the moment I looked into your eyes.”

He hadn’t moved any closer, but Nia felt as if he had touched her.

“Your eyes tell me everything I need to know.” This time he did step closer to her, his gaze riveted on hers. He touched the side of her face with the back of his hand and she closed her eyes.

Her body still thrummed with desire despite the shocking phone call from Tess. She wanted him to wrap his arms back around her and make her stop thinking about the diamonds and mounting fear.

“I should go.”

“No.” Her eyes snapped open and she grabbed his hand. “I don’t want to be here alone.” Wow, she really was going to play the damsel in distress card.

“You won’t be alone. There’s a squad car keeping tabs on your house.”

Nia lifted her chin and looked at him. “I want you to stay with me.” If he could read her eyes as well as he said, then her meaning was clear as crystal. She felt his hand tighten around hers and waited for him to refuse her request.

“Well, we haven’t finished dinner yet.” His lips curved in a teasing, slow smile Nia would’ve gladly given up all the diamonds in the world to see again.

“I’ll warm it up.”

“No need,” Quin said, settling back at the table.

No need, indeed. Her body was heating up on the inside as he dug into her food. She admired the slant of his nose as he talked and the motion of his strong jaw as he chewed. The cadence of his sexy voice, deepening with his subtle accent heightened her arousal like a fine wine. She could simply listen to him talk all day long. Didn’t matter what he talked ab—

“Nia?”

She blinked, heat flooding her cheeks. “What were you saying?”

He gave her the briefest of smiles. Like he knew exactly what she was thinking about.

“I asked you what you wanted Santa to bring you this Christmas.”

A tall, gorgeously bronzed, muscles-for-days, federal agent.
* * * *
Hearts & Diamonds is available now with Total E-Bound!

Buy Link:  http://www.total-e-bound.com/authordetail.asp?A_ID=147

Bio:

Nichelle Gregory has been in love with books and writing since middle school. A lover of the arts, she enjoys anything that embraces the creative nature within us all. Bringing believable characters to life that thrill and excite her readers is a challenge that continues to push Nichelle. She loves creating stories involving super sexy alpha heroes with divine heroines in magical, exotic, and fantastic scenarios. So, gone on . . . Indulge your senses with one of her simply sexy stories!

Visit her website www.simplysexystories.com and blog http://www.simplysexystories.blogspot.com