Tag Archives: decadent publishing

The Basics of Martian Seduction with @eva_lefoy #scifi #romance

WMS_blogtourThe Martians are coming. But there’s a catch. They’re not coming in flying saucers. They’re invading your pants.

Yes, your pants!

It’s kind of hard to concentrate with Martians coming in your pants!

The problem isn’t an easy one to fix, either. See, with Martians in flying saucers, you at least get to shoot them. Or try. Think of all the great alien vs. mankind movies where they’ve done just this. How about Independence Day with Will Smith? Remember that one? The aliens are big and mean and scary and there are plenty of spaceships to shoot at. In the end, mankind prevails.

But when the Martians aren’t massing an exterior attack but an inside one, who’s to help you? No, you can’t shoot yourself to get rid of the alien attacker. For one, that’s bad manners and two, you won’t like the ending. This kind of inside-your-head sneak attack is quiet, painless and can have a whole host of other endings.

  1. You can be made to attack the Mars Base. That’s what happens to Captain California Sykes, who falls under the influence.
  2. You can be turned into a Martian. Cal’s girlfriend – ex girlfriend at the start of the story – has a bit of a rough time with this. Every girl knows red hair and green skin don’t go together unless it’s Christmastime!
  3. You can be turned into a Martian mating machine! Yep! I said it. A Martian DNA magic wand of lovin’. That’s Fennik’s fate at the end of this book, and his story is coming – pun intended! – in book II.

And if you don’t think that’s bad enough, consider that Martians are dead. Long dead. We know NASA is checking over the planet quite thoroughly looking for any evidence there was once a civilization there. But why? What will they do with the evidence once they find it? If I were them, I’d stock up on condoms!

I think Martians just make everybody a little paranoid and really, who’s to blame them? They’ve got a super-powered viral DNA and a libido with more oomph than Dallas City Light. Yeah. A million watt libido really gets a guy – or girl – noticed. Sometimes, not in a good way.

 

TheTroubleWithMemoriesHere’s the blurb for The Trouble with Memories, Cal and Lucy’s story:

Helium toads!

Lieutenant Lucy Borasco has her phase pistol ready and her ex-boyfriend in her sights. She has every intention of making him pay for choosing his career over her. But she hadn’t factored in a Martian sneak invasion, Cal’s incessant need to save the universe, or the risk of permanent damage to her complexion. Getting Cal back will cost her more than she thinks, leaving her changed forever.

Captain California Sykes’ memories are gone, his career is in ruins, and his ex-girlfriend nearly kills him with a kiss. Can he overcome the Martian invasion, save the rest of the team and win Lucy back again in the process? Or will his seat-of-the-pants plans and the canned fish rations cost him everything he holds dear, including his sanity?

 

And here’s a super-smexy secret excerpt. Shhh! Don’t tell the big green dudes!

imageShe laughed and leaned back. Little by little she undid the zipper on her suit and watched Cal’s eyes for a reaction. To be honest, she hadn’t had time to explore the changes in her own body yet. She’d have to rely on Cal’s assessment to form her initial opinion.

His eyes went wide, his nostrils flaring. He arched his hips up, pressing his manhood harder against her damp sheath. Fragg, she wanted him in there, to be a part of her once more. “Holy shit, you’re beautiful.”

She looked down at her breasts. She hadn’t bothered to wear a bra. The greenish firm globes now boasted Naobi melon-pink nipples. The contrast made them especially stand out, like succulent Ozon Prime berries. Excited, she bounced them, then pinched them between her fingers. “You like them?”

Cal groaned and sat up, capturing one with his mouth as he rolled her onto her back.

She squealed in delight, but as he sucked harder her desire fanned hotter. About to burn up, she ripped off the rest of her suit. He sat up, and she tore his off, too. “Get back here.” Hands behind his head, she pulled him down.

With his full length on top of her, their warm skin at last meeting, she still wasn’t satisfied. She bucked her hips up. “Inside me, now.”

He took himself in hand, preparing to enter her. She couldn’t wait. She took the initiative, wrapping her legs around his tailbone and pressing her hips up, snugging her entrance around his tip. With a loud cry she grasped his shoulders and lifted her pelvis, impaling herself so he slipped inside her. Her body tingled. Every sensation was new, different.

He grasped her ass and braced them both with his other arm. “Lucy,” he murmured into her neck, “you’re on fire.”

 

I hope you look forward to more Martians in your day. They’re quite charming, and they are rather fond of tea. But don’t take them home to your mother….

Eva

 

Buy Links:

Decadent  l  Amazon  l  Amazon.UK  l  AReCafe  l

 

Bio:

Eva Lefoy writes and reads all kinds of romance, and is a certified Trekkie. She’s also terribly addicted to chocolate, tea, and hiking. One of these days, she’ll figure out the meaning of life, quit her job, and go travel the galaxy. Until then, she’s writing down all her dirty thoughts for the sake of future explorers.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Eva-Lefoy/344907072265234

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Eva_Lefoy

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/elefoy/

Blog: http://writery.wordpress.com/

Guest Blogger: Shiloh Saddler

WMS_blogtourI can’t believe my first book was released November 5th. Decadent Publishing has made my dream come true. I’ve been a closet GLBT writer for a long time. I have many partial romance stories stowed away on my hard drive. Could I ever finish one? Could I ever publish one? I didn’t think so until my writing partner challenged me. Thankfully she did because that was how The Virgin Madam came to be. I have a history degree, so when I began writing romance I naturally gravitated toward the historical genre. I was disappointed to see there were very few F/F historicals available. So I decided it was time for me to write my own.

I grew up watching westerns my favorite being Gunsmoke. Maybe that was why the first F/F idea I got involved a cowgirl and a madam. Laura and Josephine both came to me as fully formed characters. Laura inherits a brothel after her Papa is murdered. She thought she’d be trapped in Bitterroot Flats and lonely for the rest of her life until the tomboy Josephine struts into her life and wants to make her fantasies come true.

To learn a little more about Laura and her fantasies here is an excerpt.

cancanExcerpt:

Time for the can-can show. My heart palpitated in anticipation. Shamelessly I watched the four women file on stage in their long matching red skirts and black stockings. A red feather in their hair.

Mr. Woodson finished the intro music. I gave him a small smile and nod before returning my attention to the women. I let out a quiet sigh. They were all beauties. When I was younger I cried myself to sleep wishing I had their figure; now full grown, I had given up on that dream. I wasn’t tall and leggy like Lulu. I wasn’t as curvy as Rose. I didn’t have Amanda’s fiery red hair or Delilah’s flawless complexion. I was just average.

The black silk chokers around their necks helped draw attention to their faces and lower to their breasts. The ladies grabbed their skirts and walked to the edge of the stage, swishing their skirts suggestively and showing off their white bloomers. Many men let out cheers or said lewd comments. Ash rushed in and grabbed a seat. He leaned back in his chair put two fingers to his lips and let out a shrill whistle. Like me, he caught as many performances as he could. The bastard had become a regular fixture in Bitterroot Flats, easily partaking in the entitlements. Including murder. He must have had a past with Fletcher. Done jobs together, maybe even served time together.

I had to put up with him. But I didn’t have to pretend to like him. I seared his back with a fiery stare, hoping he could feel my anger.

I wish I never had to see Ash again. I wish I had the power to ban him from the Honey Ranch. The power to keep him from Amanda would be some satisfaction, but the Fletcher Gang owned the town. Ash could do whatever he damn pleased and I was powerless to stop him.

Ash wasn’t going to spoil the show for me. I focused on the women, their every seductive move. The dancers turned around in place before prancing around the stage in a small circle, flashing the gentlemen big smiles. Their faces, heavily painted with rouge and lip paint, glowed under the stage’s lighting. A thrill zipped through me when they formed a line again and started their high kicks. Some of the men clapped, keeping time with the music. Others tapped their empty beer glasses on the tables. The rowdy atmosphere didn’t bother me anymore. The scent of beer and whiskey wafted through the air, mixing with the smell of sweat, horses, and the honeysuckle perfume the ladies wore. I easily tuned out the men, my attention narrowing to the women working the stage as if their lives depended on it. How they managed to dance so well in those high-heeled black boots I’d never know. They helped show off their legs, though. And I could drool over all those legs. Heat and desire burning in my belly, I hoped no one could read my dirty thoughts.

 

The Virgin MadamBlurb:

After a vicious outlaw murders her father, Laura Rutherford sees no future beyond running the family brothel and kowtowing to the local gang. Not even marriage offers escape. No man can compete with the beautiful women who dance the can-can for her each night…at least not until a gentle stranger sweeps in and opens her eyes to desires too long denied.

Joe Bascum stumbles into Bitterroot Flats looking for a place to hide from a gunman out for blood. When the innocent Madame from the local brothel offers a bed and bath, Joe accepts hoping to show the buttoned-up beauty just how right forbidden desire can feel.

When danger escalates, can Laura help Joe defeat the famous Fletcher gang, or is she destined to live a lonely life as the virgin madam?

Buy Links:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
Decadent Publishing

Author Bio:

Shiloh Saddler likes to do research for her steamy romances first hand. She has invented a time machine and travels back to the 19th century on a regular basis. There are experimental settings on her time machine which could propel her into the future and even other worlds. She believes love and a good book makes anything possible.

Social Media Links:

History in the Hot Lane Blog: http://shilohsaddler.blogspot.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ShilohSaddler

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shiloh.saddler?fref=ts

Guest Blogger: Deena Remiel

WMS_blogtourANOTHER BRETHREN NOVEL, ELIXXIR, UNLEASHED!

 

Welcome to the FIRST DAY of Elixxir’s Blog Tour! My name is Deena Remiel, and I write paranormal romance and urban fantasy. You’re probably saying, “Who? She writes what?” I live in the US and have friends all over the world who love to read romances that have that extra something special about them we like to call supernatural.

Let me introduce you to my ANGELS. They are not of the fallen variety, rather, they are superheroes. But they are complicated, which makes them all the more appealing. Here’s a bit about who The Brethren Angels are and why they’re here…

As humans we are on a constant mission to discover when IT all began, how we came to be, and why we are here. We must have a purpose to this life, so many of us suggest. Some of us have found grand, solid purposes to our lives, while others continue to ponder, wallowing in the muck and mire of a horrid life thrust upon them without their consent. And so, while many of us live out our days finding love, building families and careers, others not as fortunate become predators, sniffing out any excuse to snuff out another’s purposeful life.

When humans began to segregate themselves this way, into people of goodness and people of evil, the Brethren first appeared on Earth. Their appearance was not one of brilliance, nor was it apocalyptic. There were no meteor showers that day. There was no eclipse of the sun. No major earthquakes or other natural disasters were pointed to, heralding their coming.

They simply manifested.

There was a new awareness of being, of  having hands to touch, a mouth to speak, eyes to see, and ears to hear, all new, independent and tangible features; yet each was dependent on another to absorb information and paint a complete picture of the world around them.

For all Brethren, there was, too, an immediate understanding of their purpose, and an acknowledgement that here was now their home, to protect, to heal, and to fight for.

They had known of each other, the Brethren did. Before manifesting, before becoming individuals here on earth, they had an awareness of each other, working in concert as a collective against Evil. But Evil was still gaining ground and threatening to put a stranglehold on the entire human race. Each one of the Brethren had agreed to this angelic mission and its terms for reasons all their own. And in time, each of their stories shall unfold.

There were nine angels in all, three Protectors, three Warriors, and three Saviors. Each triad had their own powers and orders, and none could cross over without severe penalty, and possible banishment. Protectors were adept at spinning spells, weaving magic, and creating talismans for the safety and protection of the human race. Warriors had brawn and analytical minds for warfare, and used blessed swords as their weapon of choice. And Saviors were meant to heal those with severe injuries and those who held the hand of death far too prematurely. There was just one caveat. They had to be called upon through a desperate plea or a prayer to engage in their angelic duties.

Their mission would span eternity, and it was likely they would see many a war against their foe. Satan had been able to plant his seed deep within the hearts of humans eons ago, and even had time to hijack a wayward Brethren along the way. Evil, it’s a tricky bugger to eradicate, but would be dealt with nonetheless, one demon or possessed human at a time.

 

*TRINITY and RELIC are the first two novels in this series. ELIXXIR is the third. They can be read in any order, so don’t be shy. Even if you haven’t started the series yet, Nathanael’s story is worth the leap.

 

ElixxirHere’s a taste of ELIXXIR:

Callie has secrets, too many to count.

For twenty years she’s been living a lie as Callie Worthington, hiding from the monsters who brutally murdered her parents for possession of the Elixxir of Life. Unsuccessful before, their killers have found her and will stop at nothing to acquire the Elixxir. And see her dead.

Nathanael has a couple of secrets, too. A nasty one in particular blurs the line separating Good from Evil. As an immortal Brethren Warrior, though, he must retrieve the Elixxir before it falls into the wrong hands. Just how he’s going to get it out of Callie’s is the big question.

Tempers flare as Callie and Nathanael reach out to each other with their own hidden agendas. She needs his protection. He needs the Elixxir. Will their fiery passion lead to lasting love, or will their web of intrigue ultimately destroy them both?

Secrets, lies, and love’s loyalties tested. What price for immortality? What price for love?

 

And now for a tasty excerpt from ELIXXIR:

 

The alarm proved to be no friend, come Monday morning. It wouldn’t stop buzzing. Callie picked it up and threw it clear across the room. Before hitting the far wall, it managed to nail a delicate glass figurine, smashing it into a thousand pieces.

“Well, shit.” She got up to get the dustpan and broom, and swept her mess away. She fell back against her bed and ruffled her hair. “All right, sister, you promised yourself you’d change, so here we are at Day One. Get your act together, put some decent clothes on, and paint a smile on your face. Today is the first day of the rest of your life!” She sat up and smiled a cheesy, fake smile at her reflection in the dresser mirror and got ready for work.

She saw things in a whole different light by the time she downed her coffee and ate her English muffin. After tossing her plate and mug in the sink, she did a final check of her face and hair in the foyer mirror, opened the door, and slammed straight into a wall of man.

“Whoa,” said a rich, baritone voice.

“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were….” Her next words were frozen on her tongue as she identified the mammoth creature in front of her.

Kemuel.

Too stunned to move, she looked straight into his jade-colored eyes, momentarily lost in the memory of how they once made her knees turn to jelly. The memory faded quickly, and she smirked as her knees held her steady and strong. Having regained her composure, she saw a huge bouquet of flowers in his hands. Crushed flowers, now.

“Hello, Callie. I—”

Before he could say another word, she backed up and slammed the door in his face.

Leaning against it, she closed her eyes, wishing that she’d simply imagined him, and it was really the guy from the florist down the street. She turned and looked through the peephole. No such luck. Kemuel stood there, all right. What the hell is he doing here? Maybe if I stay in here long enough, he’ll give up and go away. No, be realistic woman. You’re gonna have to throw him out. Just do it.

Slowly, she opened the portal to Hell to find him still standing there in all of his six-foot-four, god-like glory, looking shell-shocked. She hadn’t forgotten how perfection had shined down upon him, kissing his head with pure white strands of hair, and blessed him with a muscular build meant to be scaled by her. She also hadn’t forgotten being left high and dry for nearly six months, either.

 

BUY LINKS:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Barnes & Noble
All Romance eBooks
Decadent Publishing

 

AUTHOR BIO:

It was the mystique of Arizona’s history and landscape that called to Deena and catapulted her career as an author. When she’s not writing romance novels and poetry in the wee, small hours of the morning or in the deep, dark of night, Deena teaches language arts to middle school students. She currently lives in Gilbert with her husband and two children, but New Jersey will always tug at her heartstrings. She loves connecting with her fans, so find her at deenaremiel.com.

http://www.deenaremiel.com
http://www.facebook.com/DeenaRemielAuthor
http://www.twitter.com/deenaremiel
http://paranormalromantics.blogspot.com

CONTEST:

In a comment below, tell me what you’d say to a Brethren angel if he appeared before you right now. BEST TWO RESPONSES receive a cover poster signed by me! Contest ends on April 13!

Guest Blogger: Liz Crowe

WMS_blogtourWhat’s in That Name?

One of my absolute favorite things as a writer is to come up with character names.  I know they are important. I will be using them in my own head for a long time as I craft the story or novel. And hopefully they will be the sort of names that can be so connected with a character and at the same time so memorable that readers will be speaking of them for many years hence. Hey, a girl can dream.

I’ve lived in many countries and come to appreciate that other cultures attach so much meaning to actual names. In Japan, much careful consideration is given to the “kanji” or “honko,” the symbol that one’s name becomes in Chinese Kanji. (Japanese has 3 alphabets. Don’t get me started on how hard THAT was to learn).  In Turkish, all names are bestowed with an eye towards the attribute that the name implies.

In Healing Hearts, my male protagonist’s name is Jay Longmire, but that is short for “Jefferson Taylor” and he asks his new friend Abigail to “please tell him her middle name is not Adams.” His parents were American history experts and professors with a penchant for presidential lore. His sister’s name is Madison Eleanor. “But don’t get my mother started on why Eleanor would have been an even better leader than her husband,” he tells Abby when she reminds him that there was no “Eleanor” American president.

Excerpt: 

“Stop flirting with me. That’s a personal bubble violation,” he whispered, letting his lips graze her earlobe, loving how her whole body shivered against him.

“Fine, then stop pressing against me so hard I can feel how much money is in your pocket.”

“Touché.” But he gripped her closer. The candlelight flickered, the music embraced them, and she nearly brought him to his knees with her next words.

“I can’t be what you want me to be, Jay. I have goals. I need my independence. I want to make it on my own.”

He sucked in a breath, slid the hand he had on her hip around to the small of her back. He didn’t need this. But he wanted it so much he was about to explode. “I’m never going to be what you want me to be, either. Let’s just be…what we are…tonight.”

She laid her head against his chest, and he shut his eyes, trying not to let the moment overwhelm him, send him screaming into the night. Christy’s face at their wedding, at the birth of their children, and that last moment when her eyes clouded over after she told him not to blame himself while he watched her die—they all rose, clear and bright. He swallowed, leaned down into Abigail’s thick riot of dark curls, sucked in a deep breath. “What do you want me to be for you…tonight?” he asked.

She put her hand to his face, went up on her tiptoes, and met his lips, urgent and needy. He kissed her, listening to the crowd clap and catcall. Then broke away. “Well?” he asked, his body zinging.

“I want you to be the guy who takes me to bed again.” The simplicity of her words taking his breath away. “I don’t want to be made love to, not now. I need you, Jay. With me, inside me, all over me. And you need it, too. No strings, no emotion. Only physical urges met. I’m willing. Are you?”

He stepped away from her, a little shocked and a lot horny. “Give me two minutes.” Grateful the room had dimmed for the music and dancing, he dropped three hundred in cash on the table, more than enough to cover the meal, wine, and a healthy tip, and took her hand.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, giggling when he pushed her up against the side of his SUV and dove into her mouth, sweeping into it with his tongue, his hands cradling her face then buried in her hair. She molded into him, making that damn noise, the one that made him insane, down in her throat.

He broke from her, stared into her eyes. “Yes.”

Healing HeartsBLURB:

Jay Longmire had it all–a successful business, a beautiful wife, two loving children. But one normal Sunday evening in Ann Arbor everything was ripped from his arms at knifepoint. He has retreated to Traverse City to hide from the world, nursing his physical and emotional wounds and trying to cope with mind-numbing guilt over his inability to protect his family.

Abby Powers serves him coffee he never drinks and has become obsessed with the movie-star handsome but melancholy man. And the anticipation of his appearance every day takes her mind off her own messy life.

What begins as a near desperate physical connection out of the blue develops into a friendship that has the potential to heal two damaged hearts. But Jay is terrified to love again. While Abby’s fierce independence forces them both to acknowledge the deeper relationship they both desire, but that remains just out of reach.

Buy it:

Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/Healing-Hearts-Challenge-Series-ebook/dp/B00AV36MWG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1357396295&sr=8-1&keywords=healing+hearts+liz+crowe

All Romance ebooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-healinghearts-1036413-149.html

Barnes & Noble:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/healing-hearts-liz-crowe/1114050249?ean=2940016149783

Liz Bio:

Microbrewery owner, best-selling author, beer blogger and journalist, mom of three teenagers, and soccer fan, Liz lives in the great middle west, in a Major College Town.  Years of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as an ex-pat trailing spouse plus making her way in a world of men (i.e. the beer industry) has prepped her for life as erotic romance author.  When she isn’t sweating inventory and sales figures for the brewery, she can be found writing, editing or sweating promotional efforts for her latest publications.  Her ground breaking romance sub genre: “Romance for Real Life” has gained thousands of fans and followers, interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”)

Her beer blog a2beerwench.com is nationally recognized for its insider yet outsider views on the craft beer industry. Her books are set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch and in high powered real estate offices.  Don’t ask her for anything “like” a Budweiser or risk painful injury.

www.lizcrowe.com

www.brewingpasssion.com

www.a2beerwench.com

www.facebook.com/lizcroweauthor

www.twitter.com/beerwencha2

www.facebook.com/romanceforreallife

LZ banner 2012 copy

CONTEST:

I will give away a copy of any Decadent back list books to one commenter

Here is a link to those books (The Turkish Delights books are a series. Cheeky Blonde and Caught Offside are stand alones).

http://www.decadentpublishing.com/advanced_search_result.php?keywords=liz+crowe&osCsid=ss9pfgou4ttem2pf23mcag4oi0&button=search

 

Also, check out Decadent Publishing’s submission guidelines here: http://www.decadentpublishing.com/index.php?osCsid=vm2lcn38t4dk6b96pm24l844h3&content=submissions

Defining a Little Sweet Heat by Becca Dale

Hi, K D. Thanks for letting me drop by to visit with you and your readers today. This tour has been both interesting and fun since the stops have almost all been in the UK. It has been an interesting experience indeed.

I thought I’d take a moment to tell readers about feel of my writing. Although The Millionaire and the Girl Next Door is the mildest heat level I have written in a long while, my work runs the gamut from heated to steamy. However, the underlying sweetness never goes away. No matter how Alpha the male or how explicit the sex, passionate tenderness remains beneath it all. In the case of the Millionaire and the Girl Next Door, Jake must face Christa’s family, an emotionally wounded ghost, and the heroine’s own fears. It is those fears that slow him down again and again. He wants but he won’t take until he has her trust.

This heroic attitude drives my heroes and can be a pain in the backside when I want them to get down to it and they give me the lecture in my head about good things coming to those who wait. They don’t care what I want. Their goal, no matter how worked up they might get, is always to satisfy their woman’s needs. I, as the author and supposedly the woman in charge, seem to have no choice in this. Maybe because my own husband offers this type of consistent consideration, my heroes cannot be anything but exactly what my heroines need. Now sometimes, as in the case of Erotic Healing, what the heroine needs is to break down her barriers and get well and thoroughly screwed. Other times, as in my latest release from Decadent Publishing, The Millionaire and the Girl Next Door, the heroine needs time, patience, and a generous dose of understanding before she can let her hair down and say let’s have some fun.

So tenderness and deep emotion run through all my stories. Even in the ones with true Alphas, or the ones with a little kink, the sweetness never goes away. Most of my writing is labeled erotic or sensual romance because I walk the fine line between the two, but no matter how hot the sex, readers consistently label my work as sweet because love and consideration remains at the core of every hero.

Be sure to check at the bottom for a chance to win books from Decadent Publishing. Have fun, and thanks again for letting me hang, K D.

The Millionaire and the Girl Next DoorThe Millionaire and the Girl Next Door Blurb

Tired of chasing his family’s need for money and power, millionaire Jake Wescott heads to Freewill,Wyoming and the beautiful piece of heaven that calls to him.

The girl next door, Christa Dunham puts family first, and she’s determined to protect them from the city boy before he ruins their hunting grounds or steals her heart and then walks away when the lonely nights get too long.

Neither of them expects the attraction that pulls them together nor the lost spirit who wants to drive them apart. Confronting the past leaves them both anxious to find a love beyond a lifetime.

Read an Excerpt: http://www.decadentpublishing.com/product_info.php?products_id=652&osCsid=34ipt9g1f8e41i1lqa1qrdac84

Buy Links : http://www.authorbeccadale.com/#!books/cnec 

About the Author

Becca Dale writes erotic romance with a passionate soul. Her work skirts the very edge of sensual versus erotic romance, which is why fans often use the term sweet-heat, and she tells her editors she is naughty enough. She also strives to make her characters true to life, the type of people readers might know or could meet in the grocery store who just happen to have great sex lives.

Website: http://www.authorbeccadale.com/

Blogger: http://beccadale.blogspot.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/becca.dale.71

Twitter: https://twitter.com/BeccaDaleAuthor

Contest:

This is stop four on a five day blog tour. Every comment you leave, takes you one step closer to winning anything from my Decadent Publishing backlist and your choice of any Western Escape title. In addition, drop by my website to link to Decadent Publishing’s Give a Reader a Reader. You could win 45 eBooks for you and a loaded Nook eReader for a friend. Join the fun!

Tomorrow’s stop: http://www.snifferwalk.org/

Yesterday’s stop: http://zarastoneley.blogspot.co.uk/