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Posts Tagged ‘The Romance Reviews’

Migrations Nominated for The Romance Reviews Best Contemporary Erotic Romance 2012

cover image stand-alone9781908917294_FCLike so many erotic romance and romance writers, I have a long and happy working relationship with the folks over at The Romance Reviews. My books have been reviewed there, talked about there and promoted there. Carole and all the lovely people at TRR have a passion for romance, and it shows on their site. So to have my Xcite novella, Migrations nominated for The Romance Reviews Best Contemporary Erotic Romance of 2012 is a real honour! When I look down the lists of nominees, it’s even more of an honour. I’m on those lists with some fabulous writers and some of my heroes in the romance world! As I write this, I’m trying not to burst my buttons with pride!

The idea for Migrations came out of an ill-fated cross-country trip I made with family some time ago, and yes, we did drive across the places in Nebraska where the lovely sand hill cranes set down to rest and feed up on their very long migrations, though we weren’t there at the right time to see the cranes. And no, my adventure wasn’t anywhere nearly as fun and sexy as Val Hasting’s adventure turned out to be. But that’s the beauty of fiction. It’s a lovely way to redeem even the worst or our misadventures.

If you’ve read Migrations, I would very much appreciate your vote. It’s easy to do. All you have to do is click on The Romance Review badge in the upper left hand corner of this page,  or click here. The voting is open until 31 March. If you’ve not read Migrations but would like a steamy cross-country romp, just follow the Buy links to get your copy.

In the meantime, here’s just a taste of Val’s adventure:

Blurb:

VAL HASTINGS, assisted by her do-gooder cousin, SALLY CLINE, is shanghaied into driving their AUNT ROSE across the US to visit her son. What begins as the trip from hell turns into a sexy adventure when they find themselves sharing the interstate with a mysterious, leather-clad biker. Aunt Rose and Sally are convinced he’s up to no good. But after Val catches him mid-wank at a rest area, and he offers her some steamy help to make her journey more enjoyable, she’s convinced he’s her nasty saviour.

Is HAWK, the biker, a murder, a free spirit, or something else? Whatever he is, animal attraction wins out over caution, as he joins the ladies for a cross country romp that keeps Sally and Aunt Rose nervous and Val hotter than her overheating engine.

Excerpt:

They sat quietly listening to the approaching night. The high grass in the nearby fields was motionless. The air smelled of moist loam and new growth. Everything seemed to be holding its breath.

He heard it first. She felt him tense. There was a shifting in the air, then the growing sound of distant cries and calls, accented by rattling woody trills. The calls of the sandhill cranes were nothing at all the trumpeting sounds she had heard when she’d studied whooping cranes down in Port Aransas. It was like nothing she’d ever heard before, growing louder and more heavily syncopated, until she could feel it deep between her hip bones, down at the base of her spine. They were engulfed in a rolling sea of percussive trills and calls that sounded like endless, anxious questions waiting to be answered, and the moon disappeared in a sea of fluttering wings. ‘Oh my god!’ She raised to a half-crouch and squinted into the chaos. ‘It’s the cranes. It’s the sandhills! You were right. They’re here!’

‘Looks like they’ve managed to slip in under curfew again.’ He slid an arm around her and settled her back on the ground as the first birds landed and began feeding only yards from where they sat.

‘They’re huge!’ She exclaimed. ‘I mean I knew that, but actually seeing them, being this close to them, well, that’s different, isn’t it?’ Then she added, not taking her eyes off the cranes. ‘Did you know they’re the oldest known bird species still surviving? They found a Miocene crane fossil right here in Nebraska, ten million years old. Can you imagine? And it was structurally identical to modern sandhill cranes. We’re looking at the ancient past, Hawk.’

‘They make me feel a bit like a time traveller,’ he said.

She nodded agreement, as a large male close by raised his red head and rattled his questioning call. ‘I think they could easily devour a greedy businessman – well chopped, of course.’ In spite of her tasteless joke, such an end for Beranger did seem like poetic justice.

‘They are the descendants of dinosaurs, after all, and a ravenous lot.’ Hawk said, looking out over the sea of cranes.

‘As far as some of them fly to reach their breeding grounds, a little extra protein certainly wouldn’t hurt.’ She pulled the jacket tight and let the feral aroma of leather and maleness caress her.

Another wave of cranes landed nearby. The air pulsated with warm bodies, the scent of distance and altitude still on their wings. As darkness settled, the fields around them seethed with need and urgency that brought the birds back to this same place year after year, generation after generation, millennia after millennia.

‘My aunt thinks you killed Beranger.’ Her boldness surprised her.

He laughed, cupping her jaw in a calloused hand and tracing her lower lip with his thumb. ‘I had to. You said it yourself, the birds could use the extra protein.’

She nipped the tip of his thumb playfully and looked around at the feeding cranes. ‘Bon appetit!’ She called, uttering a startled gasp when he pulled her down onto the grass, his mouth covering hers as he engulfed her in his warmth and his scent.

‘Is this payment for what I owe you?’ She whispered when he pulled away.

‘Only the first instalment.’ He pushed the jacket off her shoulder along with the straps of her tank top and bra and bathed the sensitive hollow of her collar bone in warm kisses and nibbles, causing her to squirm against him.

‘It’s a big one then? The debt I mean.’ She was finding it more and more difficult to think in coherent sentences as he cupped and caressed.

‘You could be in the hotel room with your auntie and cousin watching movies on demand.’

‘Enormous then,’ she groaned, pressing up against him.

‘Mmm. I doubt if you’ll ever be able to fully repay it.’ He insinuated one knee between her legs and wriggled and nestled until his groin pressed against hers, until she could feel the hardness of him through the rub of jeans against jeans. Then he went back to work on her mouth, his tongue dancing over hers and lapping at her hard pallet, as they rocked and shifted against each other, until the friction was exquisite.

He pulled away enough to shove her tank top up until her belly was bare, then he  kissed her just below the waist band of her bra where her ribs came together, causing her to inhale in tight little gasps. He licked and nuzzled his way down to her navel, while he opened her zipper and slid a hand inside the low waist band of her panties, clearing the way for his hungry mouth. She arched up to meet his kisses, as he slid her clothing down over her hips.

It felt as though she’d been waiting forever for this moment, as he caressed and suckled the landscape of her, exploring with his fingers, with his mouth, with his eyes, like Lewis and Clark discovering a new land, like Darwin discovering a new species.

The little moan that escaped his throat against her clit might have been from the feel of her so engorged and open and receptive, or it might have been from the feel of his heavy penis pressing through his jeans. Whatever the cause, she returned the moan and curled her fingers in his hair holding him to her undulating groin. The cranes were all around them, so close she could almost touch a feathered neck or a slender leg. She felt their singleness of purpose as though it were her own, and Hawk felt it too, she was sure he did.

He nuzzled and nipped and licked at the split of her, burying his face in the warm wetness of her, caressing her fullness with deep, expressive lavings. And when she was practically in a frenzy with the want of him, he pulled away and looked up into her eyes, his face glistening with her juices. ‘I don’t want to play this time, Val. I want the real thing. I want all of you. I want to be inside you.’

‘Me too,’ she gasped. ‘I want that too.’

And they were both on their knees fumbling with zippers and snaps, pushing and shoving at denim and cotton, all aflutter like the wings of the cranes around them. The need felt like a fast moving prairie fire, with too much heat to even notice the prickle of the grass and the scratch of last year’s dead vegetation still not quite surrendered to new growth.

She heard the tear of the condom wrapper, and as she kicked free of jeans and panties he was already sheathed and ready for her, settling her bare bottom back onto his open bomber jacket and pushing into her with a grunt, which ended in an inhaled breath sucked between his teeth. ‘Oh god,’ he sighed. ‘Oh god.’

She was slick and pouting, aching and heavy. She had been all day, ever since she first saw him stroking his cock behind the bathrooms at the rest area, and she took him with tight, yielding ease that rubbed and slid and gripped in all the right places.

She lifted her legs around his hips and he groped and kneaded her ass cheeks in an effort to pull her still further onto him. ‘You’re so deep and 220px-Grus_canadensistight, and god, you feel better than anything,’ he breathed.

She grabbed his clenching buttocks, running trembling desperate fingers down the crack between, parting them, fondling them, teasing, making him suck air as her fingers brushed his anus and lingered to explore timidly.

His thrusting had become tight, stiff, manic, and she was practically off the ground, wrapped around him so tightly, digging white knuckled fingers into the tense muscle beneath his shoulder blades. All breath was gone, all thought was gone. All that was left was instinct, hunger, need. It erupted in harsh cries that caused a startled rustling of wings and a few muffled squawks in the sea of feathers and sinew, but little more. It was as though the birds somehow knew they were no threat. They continued to feed and settle in to roost as though the earth hadn’t moved, as though the fireworks of hormonal chemistry between two humans had nothing to do with them.

 

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All the News

I’ve not given an actual news update in ages, and it occurred to me that the next few weeks are chock-a-block with fun and excitement, and lots of things you might like to know about, so here’s the latest.

For the month of November I’m over at The Romance Reviews answering questions and just chatting. There’s a fabulous interview up as well dealing with all things Pets. If you stop by you can find out what inspired me to write The Pet Shop and how I deal with unruly Pets, and lots of other secret goodies about Tino and Vincent and Stella. Also, if you stop by and leave a comment, you’ll automatically have the chance to win a free eBook of The Pet Shop in the format of your choice.

While you’re over at The Romance Reviews, be sure to check out my guest post, ‘Beauty IN the Beast.’

Erotica, 2011 is going on all next weekend, 18-20 November, and I’ll be there, blogging, reading, panelling and celebrating the launch of The Pet Shop with Xcite Books. Xcite will have a stand at Erotica and will be featuring all kinds of fabulous events. I’ll be reading sizzling scenes from The Pet Shop, on Saturday in Xcite’s Reading Slam.  And Saturday at 6:30, Xcite are having a little launch party to celebrate The Pet Shop.  I hope I can keep Tino’s clothes on long enough for the party.

Sunday afternoon I’ll be participating in an Xcite Authors Panel, along with Toni Sands, Liz Coldwell, and Maxim Jakubowski. The panel will be chaired by Jane Wenham-Jones. Check out all of the fabulous Xcite events here, then come and join the fun. If you can’t make it, however, be sure to check my blog for the latest updates.

I’ve finished my read-through of the proofs of Lakeland Heatwave: Body Temperature and Rising and though I don’t have a date yet, I think I can safely say expect this first novel in my paranormal erotic romance to be out in eBook formats very soon, with the print launch in early February. Needless to say, I’m getting very excited about the goings on of the Elemental Coven in the Borrowdale Valley of the Lake District.

New Releases

Seducing the Myth, edited by the amazing Lucy Felthouse, contains my story, ‘Stones.’ This anthology of sexy myths is getting rave reviews, and is a must for anyone who loves mythology and has nasty thoughts about what really happened.

Women In Lust, edited by the ever-fabulous Rachel Kramer Bussel, contains my story, ‘Strapped.’ The anthology has also debuted to rave reviews. As always, when Rachel puts together an anthology, it rocks!

Immoral Views, edited by KoJo Black and illustrated by Florian Meacci is hot off the press from Sweetmeats Press, and contains five sizzling stories of voyeurism, including my story, Allotted Views, more serious garden porn. Definitely one not to miss.

Not only is Immoral Views available in one fabulously juicy anthology, but you can also get each of the individual stories as a stand-alone on Smashword if you’d like just a nibble before you bite. But I’m betting you’ll want to have the whole yummy voyeuristic feast.

Oh, and writing. There’s LOTS of writing going on around here. Some of it you already know about, some of it I’m keeping under my hat for now, but you’ll find out in good time, in good time! Now if you’ll excuse me, I just left one of my characters in a very compromising position on a massage table.

 

 

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Sizzling Summer Reads Heat Up The Romance Review, and Holly Will Be There

Summer’s the time for reading hot stuff on a hot beach, or even sneaking a steamy peek between the pages on your lunch break or over a cuppa. And July is the time for Sizzling Summer Reads at The Romance Reviews. Sizzling Summer Reads is a whole month of fun and games and contests and chances to chat with your favourite smutters, including yours truly. Sizzling Summer Reads is also a whole month of excerpts and blurbs and recommendations of some of the very steamiest summer reads you can get your hot little hands on.

On July 25th, I’ll be making myself comfy in The Romance Reviews erotic lounge http://erotic.theromancereviews.com/thelounge.php to chat about all things hot and steamy with anyone who wants to stop by. And believe me, if you don’t stop by, you’ll be missing half the sizzle. I’ll be talking about The Initiation of Ms Holly, and The Pet Shop, and maybe even a little bit about Lakeland Heatwave. And since you’re familiar with my blog, you can bet we’ll be talking about animal lust and sexy inspiration and erotica as safe sex, and all things hot and humid.

There’s be prizes, there’ll be fun, there’ll be Q&A, there’ll be fab conversation, and a chance for you to get the skinny on the very hottest, most sizzling reads for your summer hols or just to keep the home fires stoked. Sizzling Summer Reads is happening at The Romance Reviews all through July. Stop by any time, but I’ll be in the lounge with the kettle hot and the bikkies ready on July 25 starting at 8:00 am est. That’s just in time for lunch in the UK, so how about a really hot lunch that day?

 

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Empty Nest, Tea With Medusa, and Questions of My Stability

The nest is temporarily empty, as most of you already know. Those of you who don’t must have been on another planet when it happened, otherwise you would have heard the shouting all over Facebook and Twitter and anyplace else I could shout it from. The Pet Shop is now out the door and in the gentle but firm hands of the good folks at Xcite. And yes, I feel a bit bereft.

Has there been a celebration? Weeell, not exactly. That is unless you call more writing ‘celebrating.’ It occurred to me as I sent The Pet Shop out into the big wide world with a flutter in my heart and a lump in my throat that I really don’t know what to do with myself when I’m not writing. Since the tender farewell, there have been blog posts, there have been reviews, and there has been the odd short story, which after spending so much time with my Pets just seem, well, so short

Today, after a walk over Pewley Downs into town, I had a pot of tea with Medusa. Here’s me writing fast and furious while she tells me about her sculpture garden, all dark and mossy and mysterious. I walked back home with the weather threatening rain, all the while she whispered her story seductively in my ear. Then there was an idea for a post about how to write sex floating around in my head, which Medusa elbowed out of the way none too gently. And back behind the hedge row I could just catch a glimpse of the Lakeland ghosts waiting, not very patiently, for their turn.

I just wrote a post about emptying the brain from the busy-ness to make room for the imagination. But in my case, the imagination seems to be taking up a lot more room than I allotted it. Or is it just me, too scared NOT to write?

I should probably take some time to bask in the afterglow, maybe go out for dinner and a movie with hubby, but try to tell that to Medusa. I won’t lie, there are times when I wonder if I’m alright. There are times when I wonder if maybe it’s just not normal to spend so many happy afternoons and evenings…and mornings with people who only exist in my imagination. Am I unstable to eschew a night out so I can write more words? And anyway, even if I do go out, Medusa and the ghosts and the gardener who uncovers rude statuary in an overgrown garden, they all come along with me and crowd around the dinner table and shout in my ear during the film.

All of this makes me wonder what would actually happen to me if I took a break from writing — I mean really took a break. It gives me a headache to think about it. Okay, there is reading, and I really like that. But I can’t possibly read and not think about how the book was written, and what inspired the author. And then there are all the ideas with which that book inspires me. You get the picture.

I can’t really count walking as something to do when I’m not writing, because there’s always the ghosts in the hedgerows and the couple going at it in the back of the stables and Medusa, of course. Then there’s gardening. Well, gardening by its very nature begs rude stories. And there’s something about compost and growing things that just can’t keep from inspiring creativity.

Come to think of it, it really doesn’t matter what I do. In my head, I’m still writing. When I bang on the piano, well, there’s this romance I’ve partly written down that involves a pianist and an astrophysicist. No, seriously. Even when I’m ironing or doing the washing up stories are pouring into my head. Sometimes even when I’m asleep and dreaming.

Now that I think of it, maybe writing IS the celebration for finishing The Pet Shop. It works for me, and Medusa’s happy with it. And my long suffering husband came to terms with my writing obsession a long time ago. He just goes with the flow. So maybe there’s no need to take a break from writing after all. Whew! I feel better already!

Besides the Empty Nest, Here’s the Latest

The week started out with a really fantastic review of The Initiation of Ms Holly, on the eBook Addict Review site.

*I can honestly say that this book has turned me into a K D Grace junkie I cannot get enough of her writing.

*…This is a must read.

On the 23rd, the lovely Lisa Fox interviewed me on her website, and we talked about why I think Freud is right about sex. Imagine that, me talking about sex! It was a lovely chat.

It’s been a week of fab reviews and happy dance sort of news. The Romance Reviews awarded The Initiation of Ms Holly a five star review AND Top Pick status!  I can’t keep my eyes of the lovely Top Pick badge on Holly’s page of my website.

The lovely folks at Coffee Time Romance also gave The Initiation of Ms Holly a fab review, weighing in at four cups. We’ll take it!

The Initiation of Ms. Holly is so hot I am still tingling a day after I finished reading this novel. This spicy number will heat you up and keep you fully charged for days to come.”

On the 30th, I got the chance to visit the lovely Bianca Sommerland at I’m no Angel Author’s Blog. And, since it’s getting on that time of year again, I talked about compost…well writing compost, at least.

On the 31st, I had a lovely talk with the fabulous Lindsey Townsend at The British Romance Fiction Blog. I discussed using all of the senses in writing.

No doubt there’ll be gardening and walking and maybe a little telly on the side, even spending some time with friends this weekend, but it’s a pretty good bet that none of that will happen without Medusa and the gang close at hand.

 

 

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The Romance Reviews

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