Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Choclate Peanut Butter Cookies

I've changed this recipe around from the one on the Milk Chocolate Brownie box. I may tweak it some more. They are very rich and the original called for a frosting drizzle, which in my opinion, would make them too sweet.

The next batch I make I'm going to half the peanut butter filling, but over all the first batch of cookies were yummy.

These are definitely a good after school treat or a treat for someone that can't get enough cookies! (Really who can get enough cookies?)

1 box Duncan Hines® Milk Chocolate Premium Brownie Mix
1/4 cup butter
4 oz of softened cream cheese
1 egg
Peanut Butter Filling:
1 cup powdered sugar
1 cup peanut butter

Baking Instructions
 In medium bowl, beat brownie mix, softened butter, softened cream cheese and egg. Mix either by hand or by using a mixer.
Roll 1 tablespoon of dough into balls and place on lightly greased or parchment lined cookie sheets about 2 inches apart. Should make 2 1/2 dozen cookies.

In a small bowl, mix powdered sugar and peanut butter together and roll into small balls using about 1 teaspoon. Press peanut butter balls into surface of uncooked brownie cookies and slightly flatten cookie. Bake for 12 minutes or until edges are set. Cookies may appear slightly under cooked, but do not overbake. Cool on cookie sheets for about 3 mins and transfer to wire rack.

Adapted from the Duncan Hines Recipe

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Goddess Fish Promotions Super Book Blast: A Kiss To Die For

A Kiss to Die For
by Gail Barrett


Homeless Army veteran Sullivan Turner is nobody’s hero.  His failure to save his fallen comrades proved that.  So when a gutsy social worker gets caught in a drug gang’s crosshairs, he knows he’s the last man who can safeguard her and the pregnant teenagers she’s trying to protect. 

Former debutant Haley Barnes learned the hard way how to survive.  After witnessing a cold-blooded murder, the terrified teenaged runaway changed her identity and hid to save her life.  But when the killer tracks her down and attacks the girls in the homeless shelter she now runs, Haley knows the time has come to stand and fight.  But to bring down the powerful killer she must confront her high-society family’s darkest secrets -- and convince wounded warrior Sully Turner he’s the hero she believes.



“Then you’ll do what they say?  You’ll go to a safe house?”

“No.  Not yet.  I can’t,” she added when he hissed.  “I have to try to get answers.  If my parents won’t talk, if I don’t learn anything at the fundraiser, then I’ll reconsider my plan.  But I have to give it a shot.”

Frustrated, he gripped the back of his neck.  He was starting to realize how she’d survived the streets -- she was too damned stubborn to quit.  “Then at least take a cop as your bodyguard.”

“No.  It’s either you or no one.  I won’t change my mind about that.  I can’t.  I’ll never figure out who’s involved if I tip him off.”

His jaw clenched.  Dread mingled with desperation at the thought of her taking on the killer alone.  “That’s not fair.”

A sad smile curved her lips.  “Don’t worry, Sully.  I don’t blame you for not wanting to do this.  I’ve already involved you enough.”

Suddenly feeling cornered, Sully turned to the window and scowled out at the city lights.  She’d just given him an out.  He should leave right now while he still could.  But he couldn’t let her go to that fundraiser alone.  He’d never forgive himself if she got killed.

But how could he protect her?  He was the worst possible man for the job.  He swung around to face her again.  “For God’s sakes, Haley.  Why can’t you understand this?  I’m not the man you need.”

“But you’re the one I want.”

AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Gail Barrett is the award-winning author of thirteen romantic suspense novels.  A former RITA® and Daphne finalist, Gail has received the Book Buyer’s Best Award, the Holt Medallion, the Booksellers Best, The National Readers’ Choice Award, and numerous other awards.  She lives with her husband in Western Maryland.  For more information, visit her website:

Buy Links:


Gail will be awarding a $25 Amazon gift certificate and either a signed print copy (US ONLY) or an electronic copy of Fatal Exposure (Buried Secrets book one) to one randomly drawn commenter during this tour and her other Super Book Blast on August 21st.

Monday, August 26, 2013

Author Spotlight: Susan Child

Bio : When Susan was in high school, she never really liked to read, but when she was a child she did. Go figure. It wasn’t until after she graduated that she caught the reading bug. Susan had to go to a book store to sell off her text books and a particular book caught her eye. This book stood out from the other second-hand books because it had a pink cover. It was only a couple of dollars, so she thought, “Why not?” But she couldn't quite bring herself to read her bargain book. It had a pink cover! Then, after it tormented her for three weeks, she finally picked it up and... could not put it down. Susan finished it in two days! After Google-ing the author and found that she’d written a heap of books for Harlequin Mills & Boon as well as Single Titles. So of course Susan had to buy all her other books! And when she realised that there were other Mills & Boon authors out there, She just had to search out their books, too. And she loved them! Susan got a ton of inspiration from those books. But the most important thing she realized was that she wanted to write those books, too. She wanted to be a Paranormal author! Because let's face it, who doesn't like things that go bump in the night? (less)



They were best friends… Unfortunately.

When her sleazy ex cheated on her, Alice turned to her best friend Zack for support. Her head tells her never to love again, but in the arms of Zack, her heart has other ideas.

And so does Zack. How can he tell her how much he wants her, when one night of passion could destroy the friendship of a lifetime?

Buy: Amazon

Like Susan's books..join her Street Team on Facebook

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Easy Chocolate Macaroons

Not the best picture I could get of my cookies, but trust me, they taste great.


1 box of brownie mix (look for one with chocolate chunks in it)
2 cups coconut
1 TBS vegetable oil
3-4 TBS water
1 egg

Preheat oven to 350
Mix the brownie mix with coconut.
Add the wet ingredients and combine til moistened.
Shape into 1 1/2 balls flatten slightly
Bake for 12-15 minutes

For a decorative touch at the holiday..add a maraschino cherry

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Cover Reveal: Holly Jacobs - A Valley Ridge Christmas

Book Blurb: The whole town's in on this Christmas secret!

Maeve Buchanan isn't the jealous type. But with another Valley Ridge wedding approaching, she's feeling a twinge of envy. Everyone seems to be finding "it"—except her. Not that romance is high on her priority list! Inspired by the arrival of a homeless family one snowy night, Maeve—Valley Ridge's own George Bailey—is determined to give them a permanent home by Christmas.

To make this surprise happen, fiercely independent Maeve is going to need a lot of help. Particularly from the irritating newcomer Aaron Holder, who thinks Maeve is just too good to be true and suspects her motives. Working together won't be easy. But it'll be worth it…in so many ways!

Preorder: Amazon

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

CBLS Promotion Book Spotlight: Hesparia's Tears

Hesparia's Tears

by Imogene Nix

Erotic Sci-Fi/Futuristic Romance

Categories: Action/Adventure
Publisher: Total-e-Bound
Release Date: August 9, 2013
Heat Level: Steamy
Word Count: 56,211

Available at:


What will happen when the past catches up?

Galan is from Hesparia, a prince on a planet where the females are dying out his people need an alliance with the humans.

Jessa has a past, one she hasn’t earned but cannot escape.

What will happen when opportunity knocks?

Galan travels to earth, hoping to plead the case for Hesparia. He doesn’t expect Jessa or The Quickening.

Can he make the case for women to migrate to Hesparia? Can he get the humans to trust him enough to form an alliance? And is there hope for this couple to overcome the obstacles in their way?

Warning: This title is intended for readers over the age of 18 as it contains adult sexual situations and/or adult language, and may be considered offensive to some readers.

Hesparia’s Tears – Excerpt

The spaceship entered orbit and Jessa watched the tracking on the television. Since learning of the existence of extraterrestrials, it was about all she wanted to do. See where they were and where they planned to land.

The reporter came back on the screen. “We believe they will make their landing somewhere on the continent of Australia. There have been no further radio communications from the craft, however. So it is, at best, an educated guess right now.”

Jessa giggled at the sober face of the young, twenty-something reporter standing outside the Parkes Observatory and the inane follow up comment made by the thirtyish female news anchor.

“Jessa, it’s time for bed!” her mother yelled again.

She sighed dramatically. At twenty-four she was no longer a child, even though her parents seemed to struggle with that small fact.

Maybe it’s time to move out. As quickly as the thought had crossed her mind, she dismissed it. Leaving home meant more expense than she could possibly afford. The thing that really irked her was paying an outstanding legal bill for something she hadn’t even done. It was a refrain that had played through her mind over and over again since the event had taken place. It may have happened years ago, but she continued to pay for her youthful indiscretion. One she had long regretted.

Jessa stood, before heading down the old hallway to the bathroom. Living at home meant sharing a bathroom with her little brother, Ben. Of course, being a boy of sixteen, he was disgusting. There were used razor blades, splashes of water, foam from his recent shaving experience and hairs in the sink. Knowing it would make no difference complaining about it she carefully picked up the discarded detritus and placed it in the bin beside the vanity unit, wiped away the mess and began her own night-time ritual.

Emerging from the bathroom, she spied her mother, standing at the end of the hall in her fluffy blue dressing gown with matching slippers, and her blonde hair sitting high on her head in soft curlers. It was the same scene every night. “Night, Jessa.”

“Night, Mum.” What else was there to say? In a funk, Jessa entered her room, before closing the door then sat down on her single bed. She breathed deeply, letting the oxygen flow through her system, before slowly levering herself down across the mattress. Her blinds were open so she had an excellent view of the star-studded sky. It was a major positive to living on the edge of town, the absence of bright lights.

“Whoever you are, I certainly hope you’re friendly,” Jessa muttered, before closing her eyes, rolling onto her side and willing herself to sleep. For some reason, an excited thrill ran through her system.

Finally, visitors from the stars. No longer was it a figment of someone’s imagination or something from a science fiction novel. The time had come for them to have contact with another species. That was a sobering thought. The Prime Minister had sent a radio message to the ship. God, I hope the Prime Minister didn’t act like a pompous dick. Jessa snuggled down under the covers, waiting for the touch of sleep. Her mind wandered and she drowsed.

Her mobile, sitting on the bedside table buzzed and vibrated. Jessa muttered in the dark, groping for the device. She reached out and found the red leather covered item and dragged it to her ears.


“Jessa, it’s me. Seth. Can you come to the office at the telescope? I need you.” His voice was excited.

She squinted. “I was asleep, Seth. Besides which, I’m off duty until Saturday.” The room was gloomy and she screwed her face up into a scowl, knowing sleep would probably elude her now. “What could be so important that I need to come in right now?” Jessa pushed back the covers, swung her legs over the side then slipped her feet into her old grey slippers beside the bed.

“I can’t tell you over the phone.”

“What?” Something was happening. An agitated thrill filled her chest and for an instant her mind warred with the interest that spiked.


He didn’t need to plead. Jessa was already getting up to hunt out clothes. “Sure. Yeah, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Thanks. You really won’t regret it.” The delight in his voice was contagious.

Jessa hurriedly tapped the end call button.

* * * *

The land, so alien with hues of blue and green, grew larger as the craft descended. “Captain, do you really intend to land here? After those transmissions?”

Galan sat in his chair, watching the view-screen, hearing the concern and horror in the voice of his second-in-command. “I do, Joras. We must remember our primary objective.” He knew his words sounded unconcerned, yet he too had reservations after the tone of the communications he had received from the…what did they call themselves? Oh right, yes, Earthlings… “It‘s obvious they had no imagination, calling themselves Earthlings. Especially the woman who had called herself the Prime Minister, whatever that is.” He shook his head. “But what did pique my interest was the other transmission I received—the young man, who had called himself Seth. He sounded like he might be a possible go-between for us. Something our people had always found helpful in the past when dealing with new planets.”

Frustration pulled at him as he rose from his seat, making his way to the navigator’s position. “How long until landing?”

“Sir, on our current course, I estimate no more than three horanas.” Galan nodded absently. Three horanas to prepare. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. “Joras, have your security team ready and fully briefed. We’ll have to treat this as an ambassadorial meeting. I will prepare a communiqué for our Liege, concerning our position and plans.” Galan turned back to his friend, rubbing a hand absently along his hairless jaw. “Joras, when we land, I need you to remain here.”

About The Author

 A mother of two, compulsive reader and bookstore owner. She lives in regional Queensland, Australia with her husband, 2 daughters, dog, cats and prize winning chooks. She has a particular fondness for Vampires, Star Ship Captains and things that go bump in the night.

She is also a firm believer in writing what you enjoy… something she strictly adheres to!

Connect with Imogene Nix

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Let's Talk About Music

I've been in a listening slump lately. My favorite artists won't have albums out until later in the year, and the music scene has been rather ho hum for me in the early part of this year.

I've only been occasionally struck by a song, but not interested enough to buy a whole album, especially if it isn't an artist that I'm already in love with.

I've been doing more single song purchases than I ever have before, which is kind of distressing to me. That means most of the music I've been hearing just doesn't have the spark needed to get me really excited.

I admit to totally loving Josh Groban's Brave...for the adult contemporary genre that song really packs a wallop. I can never fault Mr. Groban's voice. His is truly one of the worlds many wonders, but the other clips from All That Echoes failed to impress me enough to part with my money.

I'm on the fence with Darius Rucker's True Believers. I was never a fan of Hootie & The Blowfish...I had another name for that group actually...which I won't say here. However once those fishies left, I found the slightly more countrified Darius to be a great listen.

I never fail to sing along with "Wagon Wheel" There's such a great feel good vibe to that song. I don't know why I've been putting off this one, because I actually like the clips I've heard from this one. Maybe its just a "Money is tight" kinda thing.

But no matter how I look at it, music has been disappointing to me lately and I've been buying more single songs than albums.

What songs or albums have really wowed you this year?  Which do you buy more of; singles or albums?

Friday, August 9, 2013

Oven Baked Tacos

Everyone has a recipe for oven baked tacos. Do a'll find lots of them.

But a week or so ago, I made enchiladas and the filling was so easy and yummy that I knew that it would work fabulously in a taco.

So here's my take on this quick and easy supper, that I served with Spanish rice-a-roni

1lb - 11/4 lbs of ground beef
1/3 cup of frozen chopped onion. (or fresh..I like the frozen because its uniformly chopped)
1 can of cheese soup..cheddar or Campbell's Fiesta Cheese
1 package Taco Seasoning. (My favorite brands are Taco Bell...and Old El Paso Mild)
1 can of refried beands
1 package of taco shells (12 count)
Your favorite shredded cheese blend. (I like Mexican or Taco Blends from Save A Lot)

Preheat your oven to 400

1. Brown your ground meat with onion.
2. Drain liquid.
3. Add taco seasoning, soup and beans, mix so that everything is coated.
4. Fill each taco shell and place in a 9x13 baking dish
5. Sprinkle cheese inside each taco.
6. Bake at 400 for about 10 minutes


Thursday, August 8, 2013

Release Blitz: Grace Elliot - Verity's Lie

Verity’s Lie by Grace Elliot
Charles Huntley, Lord Ryevale, infamous rogue…and government agent.
In unsettled times, with England at war with France, Ryevale is assigned to covertly protect a politician’s daughter, Miss Verity Verrinder. To keep Verity under his watchful eye, Ryevale plots a campaign of seduction that no woman can resist– except it seems, Miss Verrinder. In order to gain her trust Ryevale enters Verity’s world of charity meetings and bookshops…where the unexpected happens and he falls in love with his charge.
When Lord Ryevale turns his bone-melting charms on her, Verity questions his lordship’s motivation. But with her controlling father abroad, Verity wishes to explore London and reluctantly accepts Ryevale’s companionship. As the compelling attraction between them strengthens, Verity is shattered to learn her instincts are correct after all – and Ryevale is not what he seems. If Lord Ryevale can lie, then so can she…but with disastrous consequences.

Verity closed the library door and wilted.  With toe-curling embarrassment she recalled her prudish disapproval and cringed afresh.  Why couldn't she have appeared worldly and calm, instead of behaving like a stuttering, prissy schoolgirl.  And why Lord Ryevale, of all people?  If she hadn't been distracted by plans to confront her father, then she wouldn't have been caught so off guard.  Verity took comfort in that it was unlikely their paths would cross again.
            Clutching Cicero against her chest like a shield, Verity composed her thoughts before facing her father, then made for the garden.  The root of her discomfort lay in noticing Lord Ryevale earlier that evening.  When he arrived, the atmosphere had changed tangibly; women became more vivacious and men bristled defensively.  He moved with the self-assurance of a pack leader and, when he passed close by, a wicked smile quirked across his intriguing lips—and Verity didn't usually notice mouths.  But more alarming still were his eyes—nut brown and intense—and when he had glanced in her direction, she felt as if he could read her mind.  Shaken, she wondered if she had inherited her mother's weakness for the opposite sex, a sobering thought that worried her.
            From his wide chest and broad shoulders, to the square jaw and strong cheekbones, Ryevale filled her mind; so when she had received her father's note to fetch his copy of Cicero, she had welcomed the excuse to leave the ball and calm her wits.  That was, until she opened the library door to find the man she was running from in a compromising position with another man's wife.
            After three laps of the garden, her cheeks had cooled and her mind felt more ordered.
            Tonight she would seize the moment; before her father left on business, she would appeal for more freedom.  Her speech planned out, she was ready to face him.
            Verity hurried along the corridor, pausing outside the study door to straighten her hair. This was it: now or never.  She knocked and, at a gruff acknowledgment from the other side, entered.
            Between the gloomy room and being a little nearsighted, it took Verity a moment to assimilate three men were present: her father, the prime minister and a figure in the shadows.
            "Father.  Lord Liverpool."  She squinted, trying to identify their guest.  As Ryevale stepped forward, her pulse hit a crescendo.  Alarm fluttered in her breast, threatening her ability to breathe.  "My lord."  How her voice held steady, she had no idea.
            "Good evening."
            He stood at ease, which irritated her.  Why did her wits scatter like pigeons before a cat when he smiled in that bone-melting way?  Annoyed at herself, she answered his smile with a glare before turning to her father.  "Your book, Father."
            "Ah, Verity.  Thank you."
            Her father took a cursory glance at the spine then set the Cicero aside.
            Verity longed to escape, to be able to breathe and to release the tension swelling in her chest.
            "If that's all, I won't intrude further."  She felt Ryevale's gaze, hot against her skin, and some unnamed sensation coiled and tightened inside.
            "Ah, Verity, let me introduce my guest."
            "We've already met," she replied tartly.


Author bio and links
Grace Elliot leads a double life as a veterinarian by day and author of historical romance by night. Grace lives near London and is passionate about history, romance and cats! She is housekeeping staff to five cats, two sons, one husband and a bearded dragon (not necessarily listed in order of importance). “Verity’s Lie” is Grace’s fourth novel.
Subscribe to Grace’s quarterly newsletter here:
Grace’s blog ‘Fall in Love With History’
Grace on Twitter:        @Grace_Elliot

Monday, August 5, 2013

Release Day Blitz: Stacey Kennedy - Claimed


CLAIMED Book Blurb: 
A novel of erotic discovery and forbidden desire that goes beyond Fifty Shades of Grey. 
Presley Flynn is ripe to experience her secret fantasies… and Dmitri Pratt wants nothing more than to fulfill them. Once inside the elite Club Sin in Las Vegas, Presley is nervous but excited—and determined to surrender to her every desire. Dmitri is her Master, and his touch is like fire. With each careful, calculated caress, he unleashes her wildest inhibitions, giving her unimagined pleasure. 
Presley is different than the other submissives Dmitri has mastered. The BDSM lifestyle is new to her, and so are the games they play at Club Sin. From the Start, Presley stirs emotions in Dmitri far beyond the raw purity between a Dom and the perfect sub. For the ecstasy they share goes beyond the dungeon, igniting a passion that claims the very depths of the heart. 

CLAIMED is an erotic romance intended for mature audiences. 

Find CLAIMED on Goodreads

Stacey Kennedy is an urban fantasy lover at heart, but she also enjoys losing herself in dark and sensual worlds. She loves in southwestern Ontario with her husband, who gave her a happily-ever-after. Together, they have two small children who can always make her smile, and who will never be allowed to read Mommy's books. If she's not plugging away at a new story, you'll find her camping, curling up with the latest flick, or obsessing over Sons of Anarchy, Supernatural, True Blood and Lost Girl


Connect with Stacey

Connect with Loveswept 


“Master Dmitri doesn’t expect sex.” Cora grunted. “You’ll keep your clothes on.”
Presley Flynn scanned the foyer of the snazzy mansion and looked for something to hold on to as her roommate, Cora Adams, hustled her down the corridor. With a little shove, Cora added, “You wanted this, remember?”
“Clearly, I’ve lost my damn mind.” Presley pushed back against Cora’s hands, trying to hold her ground.
The mansion was pleasant, with thick dark wood on the trim of the doorways and gentle burgundy-painted walls, but it did nothing to settle her nerves. Beneath her feet, located in the basement, was the elite BDSM dungeon, Club Sin. “Maybe I need to go to a therapist. Or skip that part and go straight to the nuthouse.”
Cora stepped in front of Presley, and her big blue eyes, lined with dark makeup, sparkled. Her long chocolate-colored hair fell over her black blouse, and her red lipstick covered pursed lips. “You told me you wanted to join the dungeon.”
Presley snorted. “You said I was a long-lost submissive who needed the lifestyle. Which, apparently, is so far from the truth, since why am I on the verge of puking all over this fancy hardwood floor?”
Cora smirked. “Please don’t puke on Master Dmitri’s floor.”
“Okay, great,” Presley muttered in total agreement. “See, it’s best I leave.”
She turned to get the hell out of the place when Cora grabbed her arm, pulling Presley back in front of her. “One chance, Presley, that’s all you get. If you leave now, you won’t be allowed to come back.”
Cora walked forward, and Presley found herself matching her stride. They passed a grand wooden staircase on the left, leading to the upstairs. A huge wrought-iron balcony curved around the entire upper floor, which led to numerous doors used for God knew what.
They strode by an oval-shaped dining room, and Cora added, “There’s a reason why you read so many BDSM erotic novels. There’s a reason why it turns you on. And there’s a reason why you made the decision to come with me tonight.”
Stopping near the doorway to the office that Presley had been avoiding for the last five minutes, she inhaled. “You’re right. I did come here for a reason.” To surrender to her every desire. “I don’t want to walk out the front door, but—” She pointed toward the office. “I’m scared shitless to walk through that door.”
“Of course you are.” Cora grinned. “Your darkest, most secret fantasies await you in that office.” Without another word, she spun on her heel and headed down the hallway in the opposite direction.
“Do you plan on coming in?”
Presley started at the powerful low voice that seemed to draw her forward, giving the fearful butterflies in her stomach a flutter of excitement. Her feet moved without thought as she entered the office, which looked much like a library.
Books filled the shelves at the far end of the room, along with a grand wooden desk. A computer and telephone and other office accessories sat on top of it. A sleek black leather couch was situated straight ahead, under the bay window.
“Ah, she finally decides to enter.”
Presley froze, as time halted. The man never raised his head to look at her, but he didn’t need to. His presence filled the room, making her entirely aware of him. He sat at the desk, his head bowed toward the paper he’d been reading. With the slight curve to his mouth, he stole the air from her lungs. He was hot.
As the owner of Club Sin and the president of Las Vegas’s top casino, Dmitri Pratt matched the mansion with his wealthy exuberance. Hard angles defined his jawline and cheekbones. His lips were lush and sculpted and his nose straight-edged. The sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up on his muscular forearms, displaying a tribal dragon tattoo on his left arm.
When she didn’t move, Dmitri stated, with his eyes still focused on the paper, “Take a seat on the couch.”
Exhaling slowly, she shed the tension in her chest as she made her way to the leather sofa and sat down. The coolness of the upholstery against her heated skin came as much needed relief. She crossed her legs, doing her best to portray confidence.
In front of this powerful and experienced man, she didn’t want to show her apprehension. In fact, she’d never been this uncomfortable around men, but Dmitri wasn’t simply a man. He sexually dominated women, and as a Dom, he did the kinky things Presley had only dreamed of fulfilling.
He signed the paper, then he lifted his head. Presley forgot the world around her, absorbed in him. His piercing blue eyes gazed over her from head to toe before his focus returned to her face. The depth of those eyes pulled her in with the intensity of how he watched her. No, how he studied her. He didn’t give her a quick look but a long examination.
Under his stare, her body went mushy and hot. Flames flickered through her veins as he stood from his chair and approached. Her fingernails bit into her palms as her heart rate increased. His muscular frame didn’t fit his fluid gait. Each step he took exuded authority, like a lion on a hunt, but appeared graceful, with controlled power.
She scanned the thickness of his shoulders beneath his black dress shirt, and she noticed how the fabric clung to him, detailing the valleys of his muscles. Glancing lower, she found the rest of him to be more of the same—powerful and masculine. His black slacks, held tight by a leather belt hung low on his hips, hugged his thick thighs.
Stopping in front of her, he stared at her with impressively intense eyes, and a strand of his stylish blond hair hung across his forehead. “So, you’re Cora’s friend? Presley, right?”
The commanding nature of his voice made her breathing erratic. This man had the capability of making her feel giddy as a schoolgirl, as if he were her secret crush who’d noticed her at last. “Yes, that’s me.”
Dmitri’s mouth twitched, and he tucked a finger under her jaw, tilting up her chin. “Welcome to my home, Presley.”
She shivered at the stern yet gentle hold. “Thank you.”
He slid a finger along her jawline, cocking his head, and his study of her touched the center of her soul, awakening her body in a foreign way. As if, for the first time in her life, a man looked at her and truly saw her. His examination made her bare, totally exposed to him, and unusually vulnerable.
Locked in a stare she couldn’t break free from, she wiggled in her seat, unable to stop herself, then she froze. After another shift, she couldn’t ignore the damp silk between her thighs. How was that even possible—nervous one minute to undeniably turned on the next?
Dmitri’s eyebrow arched, and that sexy smile returned. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you, doll?”
He removed his hold and she quivered, and her body hummed with desire. The memory of his touch remained. The path his finger had taken was scorched into her skin, and the heat within only intensified as she drew in his masculine scent, edged with sandalwood.
Watching the twinkle in his eyes increase, she cursed herself for being entirely too obvious. Or maybe she should curse him for being so talented at reading people. To calm down, she glanced around the office, looking for something to take her mind off of her response to him.
It was hopeless.
The home seemed like a fairy tale all in itself. Along the dark taupe wall across from her were four huge canvases forming a solid picture of a lone tree and a moon, reminding her that she was out of her element. “That painting is beautiful.” Enormous and expensive. “Did you pick it out?”
Dmitri followed her gaze for only a moment. “Do I look like the type of man who’d know about art?”
She licked her dry lips, staring at his sculpted mouth that held the mysterious smile, and she admitted, “Kind of.”
“No, doll, I couldn’t care less about it.” He winked. “That’s what interior decorators are for.”
Dmitri deftly turned and strode toward the watercooler in the corner of the office. Presley frowned at his back. Perhaps she had misread him and he wasn’t as fancy as she’d thought, since he seemed amused by her response.
After filling a tall glass with water, he returned to her and offered her the glass. “Here, drink this, love.”
“Thanks.” She accepted the glass, and settled the cool glass on her lap, not sure she’d get the water down her dry throat.
Dmitri leaned in and gazed into her eyes dead-on. “I didn’t give you the glass to hold. I gave you the water because you need it. Drink up, Presley.”
The stern set of his jaw indicated he wouldn’t relent, so with a shrug, she sipped the water. The cool liquid rushed through her mouth and down her throat, easing the tightness as she swallowed. Maybe she needed that more than she’d thought. He gave a firm nod. “Better.”
As he sat next to her on the couch, his thick thigh brushed against hers, and a spark blasted through her, causing her cheeks to warm. The side of his mouth once again curved as he stared at her blush before those intense eyes zeroed in on hers. “Now, then, tell me a bit about yourself.”
“Well—” She focused on their conversation and away from how incredible his body felt against hers. “My parents are still together and have a good marriage. I grew up in Apple Valley my entire life, but I moved to Vegas about four months ago to live with my ex.” She took another sip of the water and realized she’d almost opened a door she didn’t want to go through. Gathering her thoughts, she looked at her hands, clenched around the glass, and continued. “That’s a story not worth repeating.” No way in hell would she tell him about her ex-boyfriend, Steven Moser, on whom she wasted eight years of her life. “Let’s see . . . I’m twenty-five and have no kids.”
Dmitri raised his ankle over his knee, drawing her focus to him, and she noticed his body shaking in silent laughter. Maybe, with Steven on her mind, her defenses were already on high alert. Or perhaps Dmitri made her feel way too inexperienced and even too nervous in this erotic adventure she’d entered, but her glare came fierce and instant.
He frowned. “Would you like to try that again?”
“I have nothing else to say.” She shifted against the couch, realizing now that she deserved his mirth. In this place, she might as well have a halo over her head. “That’s all there is to know about me.”
“No, Presley.” His eyes were dark, firm, and cold. “In my house, my guests don’t glare at me.”
Had he honestly noticed her glare? Most times when she glared at Steven, he didn’t see it or didn’t care enough to ask what had upset her. “I—”
Dmitri’s eyes narrowed. “If I’ve upset you, tell me, so I can address it. Don’t give me nasty looks that I don’t deserve, considering I’ve hardly said a word.”
The authority in his voice made her insides quiver. It was the meaning in his statement that spoke to something deep inside her—I see you. Even if what she’d done bothered him, he didn’t overlook any of her actions. For the first time in a long time—possibly ever—she wasn’t a shadow, a person everyone passed and never truly looked at, and that made her speechless.
However, at his firm look urging her to continue, she took his advice and asked, “What did you find so funny?”
He dropped his ankle from his knee and turned to face her. “Your little rundown there.” His stern expression melted away to a charming smile, drawing her full attention to his kissable mouth. “I didn’t mean for you to tell me everything about yourself, as if I were hiring you.”
Just kill me now!
His eyes softened, as did his voice. “I meant for you to tell me why you want to join the dungeon, considering you look incredibly nervous.”
She almost rolled her eyes but stopped herself. “Right, I guess that’s what you’d want to know.” Shoving her embarrassment away to fret over later, she put on a brave face and lifted her chin. “Well, I read a lot of erotic romance books and . . . um . . . Cora has told me about the lifestyle, and you see, it . . . ”
With a gentle hold, he gripped her chin, tilting her head downward. “Arouses you?”
He dropped his hand and she nodded, and the water in the glass rippled in waves from the tremble of her hands. Gripping it tightly, she bit her lip, which didn’t ease the flickers of mortified tremors.
“What about BDSM arouses you?”
His intense study reached into her soul. She squirmed against the leather couch, and her skin flushed wicked hot. “Err . . . the sex stuff.”
One sleek eyebrow lifted. “The sex stuff?”
She followed the line of his brow along the masculine contours of his face. While his eyebrow arch looked simple enough, it portrayed a statement of curiosity, and he was beautiful. “You know, being tied up, dominated . . . and um . . . other stuff.”
Dmitri considered her in a way that made her feel as if he noticed every flaw on her face. “I’m going to be blunt with you, Presley.” Before she could inquire what he meant by blunt, he added, “I’d appreciate if you stay quiet while I talk. After I’m done, we can discuss what I’ve told you.” He waited for her nod, then he continued. “A Club Sin submissive can be restrained with ropes, cuffs, chains, or anything that can be used to bind a person.” His grin became devilish. “Doms enjoy being creative.”
Sweet Jesus!
“In a scene, you might be flogged, paddled, whipped, spanked, or caned. You could find yourself tied to a Saint Andrew’s cross, tossed over a spanking bench, or attached to any other device located in the dungeon.”
Damn her body for flushing at those choices, and damn his wicked expression declaring enjoyment. She took a big gulp of the water, which this time didn’t help the dryness in her throat.
His eyes twinkled. “If it’s within your limits, you might have intercourse in the dungeon or be asked to give oral sex; if your Dom is especially pleased, you could find yourself climaxing in front of a crowd.”
Her mouth dropped open, but he seemed not to realize or care. He added, “This isn’t a sex club meant to have vanilla sex. At Club Sin, you are the submissive and are treated as such.” Drawing in a deep breath, he allowed her a minute to process before he said, “There are no slaves at Club Sin. We have submissives who, outside of the dungeon, are equal in every regard. In the dungeon, you are the bottom in the relationship and will need to accept that. You don’t make decisions. You don’t ask questions. You do what your Dom tells you to do.”
A shiver slid down her spine. Not at what he said, exactly, but how he said it. The heated look in his eye and the stern tone portrayed a confidence that her lower half appreciated. Which had been part of the battle, excitement at the thought of a man controlling her, yet she’d been raised to have a voice and thoughts. Meshing the two desires and wants was confusing at best.
His head tilted. “Submissives at Club Sin are expected to be submissive only while in a scene. Meaning you’re not expected to be in high protocol at all times in the dungeon, as in kneeling at your Dom’s feet and avoiding eye contact. These are the rules I’ve put in place at Club Sin, because they’re what I prefer. To be a member, everyone must follow that rule.”
He once again let her process it all before he said, “Of course, you are to respect all Doms with proper address; mind your manners; and be respectful to other submissives. But we are not a club that expects high protocol, unless that’s something your Dom requires of you for a punishment.” That ridiculously sexy eyebrow arched again. “Do you understand?”
Presley nodded and wiggled in her seat, trying to ignore the heat swirling between her thighs. All of what he said were things she’d read about, fantasized over, and the idea that she’d play the submissive role made her burn.
“Some submissives like things others don’t, and that’s why you outline your limits when you sign the dungeon’s agreement. That part of play at Club Sin is nonnegotiable. Your limits will never be broken. If you want to change a limit, you’ll have a sit-down with me to discuss it. I may agree without hesitation, or I might request that I watch you in scene first if the limit change is drastic.” He casually picked a piece of lint off his pants. “What you do in your private life is your business. Here, in the dungeon, what you do is my business, since I’m the owner of Club Sin. All clear?”
She nodded, managing to close her parted lips, but she was unable to look away from his eyes. There, in their depths, she found something so intoxicating, so centered. Dmitri appeared to be the most put-together man she’d ever met in her life, so sure of himself and his choices, and that was even sexier than his muscular frame and gorgeous face.
He flicked the piece of lint onto the floor. “If you don’t follow what has been asked of you, you will be punished. If you refuse your punishment, you will be escorted from the dungeon and not allowed to return.”
Her breath became trapped in her throat, and as if he read her concern, he added, “A punishment can be a spanking with a hand or a paddle, a night spent wearing a gag, or whatever the Dom thinks is appropriate for your disobedience. But no punishment would ever exceed your limits. One thing you can count on is your punishment will be fair.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, smiling gently. “Now tell me how you feel about what I’ve told you.”
“It’s . . . well . . . I . . .” She swallowed, shifting through all the confusion coursing through her veins. Her body burned so hot that she wanted out of her skin. Her mind warned her how insane it was to agree to something that could, in fact, lead to a punishment.
After a moment, she realized the winner of the internal battle was glaringly obvious, because it was why she’d come here tonight. “God forgive me, I liked it.”
Dmitri gave her a long look before he threw his head back with laughter. Her embarrassment quickly turned to anger, and she stood so fast that the water spilled on the floor. “Stop laughing at me! This isn’t funny.”
He slowly looked at her. His eyes had darkened. He rose to his feet with a powerful grace, taking the glass from her hands, and slamming it on the end table with a clunk. “To your knees.”
In a swift move, she dropped to her knees, cringing when she connected with the hardwood floor. The second the pain eased, she realized what he’d asked and what she’d done.
Had she honestly responded to Dmitri without a single thought? Was she seriously kneeling for the man at his feet? And why had he told her to kneel? Because she snapped at him, or maybe she’d glared again? Her mind raced to understand what had happened in the last couple of seconds, but failed miserably.
Dmitri’s shiny black shoes rested in front of her, and his rich masculine scent wrapped around her. He didn’t move, nor did he say a word.
She did the only thing she thought would be appropriate in this extremely awkward moment. She whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Sunday, August 4, 2013

Say Hello To The Twelfth Doctor!

Dear Whovians,

They have announced the 12th Doctor and already some of you are threatening not to watch because the new actor isn't young and hot.

Just an FYI to you, that isn't what the show is about.

Plus if you do a little googling, you will see the Doctor has been portrayed by actors of varying age ranges over the last 50 years.

Oh and 55 is not that old.

And while I'm at it, I think the choice of actors is rather attractive for his age, and he was so awesome in The Fires of Pompeii.

So please, before you start dissing the actor, wait until he gets into the role. He hasn't even shot his first scenes yet!

I wasn't excited at Matt's casting and yet I've come to love him as much as the other actors that came before him...and yes, even as much as the Sainted David Tennant...the Lord of all Time Lords.

So please, take a chill pill, and wait...

You will probably be pleasantly surprised...


A fellow Whovian

Friday, August 2, 2013

Book Blitz: Sweet Proposal by Celia J Anderson

Sweet Proposal by Celia J Anderson

Books, chocolate and a Jacuzzi: could there be a better combination? Gorgeous Geordie Leo arrives in Clayton-on-the-Bream with a mission to make his mark. When he reveals his ideas for a bespoke bookshop and chocolate-themed cafe, struggling writer Mab can’t resist his plea for help.

However, Leo’s timing is disastrous. Engaged to flighty, super-thin Sophie and knowing that Mab is up to her neck in a mysterious scheme of her own, Leo fights hard to ignore the warm, sensual friendship that is growing between them. When their eclectic mix of family and friends weigh in to help, the dream seems almost possible, but can Leo ignore Mab’s shady past? As they battle with sabotage, jealousy, vindictive neighbours and unpredictable relationships, Mab and Leo find that even chocolate can’t always make miracles happen . . .
Available from:
Leo swerved to avoid a dead badger. The A1 was still so quiet that groups of starlings rose in disgruntled crowds as he disturbed their breakfast, and the café where he had once eaten the best bacon sandwich of his life was firmly shuttered.
He gave in to the violent rumblings of his stomach and reached into the glove box, tearing the emergency chocolate bar open with his teeth and chewing until the bitter sweetness melted on his tongue, soothing and sensual. Chocolate and the future – they were closely linked in Leo’s mind. He sighed deeply. It was a pity that Sophie didn’t share his enthusiasm, but he supposed it was hard to get enthusiastic about a chocolate-based dream when all you ate was lettuce. Sophie was only twenty-five after all, ten years younger than Leo, stunningly beautiful and harder to amuse than a teenager on a family holiday. Maybe after they were married she would realise what a brilliant opportunity this move was going to be, and would be ready to leave Newcastle and her weird friends behind.
Stretching his legs, Leo decided that this cab must have been designed for a much smaller man. He yawned, felt his eyelids droop and blinked furiously, thinking of hot baths and strong coffee. He’d had no sleep for almost twenty-four hours. Celebrating was fine, but work would have to come first from now on. It was time for the Chocolate Project. The excitement that had been building up in waves washed over Leo again, and he gave the middle-aged lady driving towards him the full benefit of his flashing grin and dimples. He saw her jaw drop and laughed for the sheer joy of living – at last, Leo was about to make his mark, and no one was going to stop him.
Author Bio:
When she’s not marking children’s work, or writing stories involving pants, Celia spends far too much time on Facebook (Celia Joy Anderson) and does a lot of walking to counteract the cooking, eating and drinking which form another of her hobbies. She blogs as part of the Romaniacs online writers’ group - and tweets as @CeliaAnderson1. Her own website was recently launched thanks to Lucy Felthouse – and she has an author page on Facebook (Celia J Anderson)
Her ultimate dream is to have her children’s books published too. Usually sea-starved in the depths of the Midlands, she can often be found wandering happily around Brighton visiting her two daughters and pretending to collect ideas for her next book.

Thursday, August 1, 2013

The Next Doctor!

Well it seems like the BBC is ready to tell us who Doctor 12 is going to be. Nice folks that they are (Har har har) they are going to simulcast the special with the announcement on BBC America. So for the Brits..that's 7 p.m. for those of us on the east coast that's 2 pm.

They are going to air the 50th anniversary special the same way.

I'm fine with it for the announcement, but I don't know how I feel about watching a brand new Doctor Who episode at 3 pm.

That just doesn't feel right.

I guess I'll deal with it when it gets here...

But...whoo hooo...only a few more days until we know who 12 is!