Monday, January 31, 2011

ME time!

Stress abounds, people crush me with their needs and I am desperate for a little me time! I don't often feel the need to take time just for myself but I am feeling the need now.

So what do I do to relax and rejuvenate?

Well often I would just spend a day or two locked in my bedroom with Tarquin taking out my stress on him in a very fun way.

....unfortunately he is a big part of my stress right now so I can't do that. Since I can't go blood crazy on a town of stupid humans....I must find a new way to ease my stress.

So this is my plan....Tropical island, exotic blood, and warm night. No family, no friends and no council! If I was human I would spend the entire vacation drunk and sunbathing and having sex with strangers....well if I was human and single anyway.

Wish me luck with this, if it doesn't work you may be hearing about a town ravaged by a homicidal maniac....

Sunday, January 30, 2011

In Anticipation of my Upcoming Release

All this time I’ve been chatting with you guys, I failed to mention my novel will be debuting next week. I know, how simply naughty of me! A Wicked Ride will be here by Feb 3 and to celebrate I’m holding a contest. Details can be found HERE, and you have til Feb 5 to enter. And to tide you over until Sasha and ‘em get here, here’s an excerpt:

ADULT EXCERPT~~ Three guesses on the identity of the culprit riding her bumper.
Sasha gripped the steering wheel of her silver 2010 Jaguar XK Coupe with both hands covered in fingerless gloves. She pressed down on the gas with a foot encased in black, thigh high Louboutins. The headlights of the pursuing SUV drew closer in her rearview.

She grinned. Well, damn. Finally.

It’d been two days—a girl could only wait for so long. She’d thought he wouldn’t come looking for her. But here he was. He wanted the flash drive and she wanted his body.

One ride on the train would purge him from her thoughts. Just her luck he’d come when she was on her way to remove the drive from its hiding place. She had a few days left on Vicente’s deadline, but she wanted to get the whole thing over with.

Sasha came up on the turnoff to her house and headed in the opposite direction. No way was she leading him to her front door. She had the perfect place to ensure the privacy they needed for the many things she wanted to do to him.

The man was built—it took all her restraint to keep from climbing his naked ass the other night. His tattoos took up an entire sleeve on his left hand and expanded to cover his heart. Black, swirling tribal symbols, exotic and mesmerizing like him. She finally got to see the color of his eyes—honey-brown, flecked with green and gold. So beautiful.

But his cock had her waking up at night with her fingers buried in her pussy, calling out Niko’s name. She couldn’t get the itch he’d created scratched. In a desperate move, she’d picked up the phone at about three AM last night. She’d have slaked her hunger for Niko on her jump-off, Miles, but he didn’t pick up. JD, her pink jelly dildo, went to work instead. But nothing helped, nothing doused the fire.

Sasha pulled up in the back of the warehouse the gang had used for meetings. Since they’d broken up, the place stood empty. The crunch of gravel signaled the arrival of the Range Rover. She hopped out of the car into the gathering dusk and headed for the door of the warehouse.

Niko’s car door slammed. “Running from me, Sasha?”

What the hell is he talking about? Doesn’t he realize I’m offering myself up like a buffet? Sasha chuckled. She unlocked the heavy metal door of the warehouse, pushed it open and stepped inside. Hot, musty air filled her lungs. A sneeze tickled the back of her throat.

She pulled on the chain for the overhead bulb. Bright yellow light illuminated the empty space with a hum as Niko barreled through the door. Sasha spun around. He stopped short and they stared at each other.
She took in his narrowed eyes, flared nostrils and heaving chest. Her body felt taut, strung tight. She needed his touch, needed him like nothing else, ever.

“Strip,” he growled at her.

She creamed. Hot moisture eased out of her clenched pussy and slid down her thighs. Niko took a step in her direction and reflex made Sasha back up. He kept coming and she backed up until she bumped into the concrete pillar in the middle of the space. Now they were inches apart.

She got caught in the heated pull of his eyes and didn’t see the knife. A flick of his wrist and her mini-dress dropped around her ankles with a sigh. She stared up at him in nothing but gloves and $2,500 boots. The knife clattered to the floor, but he didn’t seem to notice.

His intense stare roamed her body. She felt like she was melting.

“Are you going to make me beg?” she asked. “Because I will.”

He took hold of her left nipple, rolled it between thumb and forefinger and pinched it.

She threw her head back. A moan escaped.

“What do you want, Sasha?” His voice was barely audible.

Her tongue slid out to lick dry lips. “Whatever you’ve got.”

Niko hauled her into his arms. She gave a low cry. His mouth claimed hers in a frantic kiss. Sasha opened her mouth wide, granted him every access. Her tongue tangled with his and she swallowed his moan. Rising on tiptoe, her hands went around his neck. He tasted like cinnamon, so fucking good. Niko bent and lifted her. She clung to him, wrapped her legs around his narrow waist. He palmed her ass. The cool concrete at her back did nothing to cool the fire raging within her.

Niko tore his mouth from hers. “This is going to be quick.” He fumbled with his belt.

Sasha shook her head. “Fuck that, just make it count.”

He dropped a kiss on her lips. A hiss of his zipper, then nothing else mattered, because he was there at her entrance. Thick, smooth and so hard.

He slid home and her pussy swallowed him whole.

“Yesss.” A sob caught in her throat.

Tremors wracked Niko’s body. His cock stayed there, inside her heat, nudging her womb. He took her mouth again in a fierce, wet kiss. She welcomed it and his sharp thrusts as he began to move.
She rocked her hips into him. He made a harsh sound. The squishing sounds of her soaked pussy mingled with their heavy breathing as she fucked him the way he fucked her.

Sasha broke the kiss and panted. His thrusts came harder and faster. Her legs shook and she fisted her hands in his black T-shirt. Niko angled his hips to the left. A sharp thrust caused the blunt head of his cock to hit her sweet spot and she flew apart.

Her sheath contracted around him. Ripples shook her body and she barely heard his savage cry. She came. Sasha screamed and convulsed at the consuming fire. Damn if that shit didn’t take her by surprise—she didn’t scream, ever. She clawed at Niko’s shoulders with her pink nails.

Her body went limp. Niko tightened his arms around her. She felt his come at her core, warm and silky. He buried his face in her neck.

“What are you doing to me, Sasha Forde?”

She tensed, but he began feathering kisses on her face and neck. She had no reply. This magnetic pull between them wasn’t good. Not when she had the flash drive and he wanted it. He couldn’t have it—lives were at stake.

So where did that leave them?

Right here. In this warehouse with sweat-slicked skin, where the musk of their sex mingled in the air. She tightened her hold on him, flicked her tongue out to taste the salty skin of his neck.
He took her mouth in an addictive kiss and she didn’t want to move. Not from this spot, with this man still buried deep in her pussy, holding her so tight. She wanted this and she wanted it with Niko.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Wrapped in the sensual embrace of a man who just blew her back out while still fully dressed, Sasha did something she’d never done before.

She panicked.

Friday, January 28, 2011

Meet Nadal from “The Chosen”

chosen My name is Domenic Nadal. You cannot meet me until February, 2011, which coincides with my meeting my soul mate, my CHOSEN, Ariadne Fortesque. When we do appear, you shall find us at eXtasy Books under my author’s name, Dee Brice.

What makes you special? What differentiates you from your kind? Do you have special abilities?
Because I am almost 900 years old, humans call me vampire. But I do not drink blood of any kind. In truth, except for my longevity and enhanced senses, I am like you humans. I can tolerate sunlight. I have a reflection. I eat and drink human foods—although I prefer my steaks rare and my wine red. I sleep at night, in a custom-made bed that allows vigorous sensual encounters—which for the last several decades have been sorely lacking. But that is about to change—as you will discover.

Tell us about your most current adventure.

1 January 2675
There is something innately beautiful about a new journal. A book with blank pages, I mean, not those tiny data collectors doctors implant in newborns’ brains to track their lives from birth to death. But a real book, in which I can write my deepest desires with no one the wiser.
Nowadays, one has to search long and hard to find a journal. One has to pay dearly for the privilege of owning such a volume—even one made from recycled napkins or newspapers. I am forever grateful that the reuse craze did not extend to toilet paper.
I am blessed with foresight and purchased many journals in those halcyon days when journals—or diaries as some called them—were kept on a daily basis. A lovely record that allows one to look back at one’s family history. Or, in my case, one’s life.
The aroma of velum fills my nostrils. I caress the paper with my fingertips, as I shall touch the woman who will soon come to me. Soon, for me a month or year or century, is relative only to my growing impatience to meet her. I will breathe her scents as I now inhale those of parchment and India ink—another remnant of my past.
After years of trying to tempt me with imitations of herself, Erma Franken is sending a woman more to my tastes. How do I know? Franken wants me to fund her latest research—an exploration of why vampires drink blood—beyond the obvious need to survive. So I know the woman she sends this time is a woman I shall want.
I also know Franken wants more than money. I know she wants my blood.

Tell us a little bit about your author. Where can we find more of their works? And If you could offer your author advice, what would it be?
My creator—that is what ‘author’ means, is it not?—found a home for me and my CHOSEN at eXtasy Books, where you will also find several other erotic novels and novellas. You may also look for other stories written by my creator at Ellora’s Cave. For a complete listing, including Dee’s works in progress, check out her website at My advice to Dee—and to all other authors—is to keep writing. Don’t let rejection stop you from exploring alternatives, such as writing different genres and/or seeking new publishes. Above all, keep honing your craft.

Are you happy with the way people perceive you?
I enjoy knowing that humans’ perceptions of me and my kind are steeped in myths about vampires. I also relish the fact that I am rich enough to live in solitude with a few of my equally long-lived friends and relatives. It is sometimes lonely. I have outlived my few wives and children, along with human friends. But, as I said, all that is about to change.

Tell us a little bit about your world.
My world? My world is what I have made it. I live in a castle that frightens my few human visitors. I can see in their eyes that they wonder if my coffin lies deep in my dungeons. Or if I shall share the refreshments I offer them or wait until they leave to drink blood—assuming I, the perfect host, will not drink theirs. While I dislike thinking of myself as vindictive, I more than enjoy their discomfort—a small payback for the centuries they threatened my life, forcing me to flee from family and friends lest the humans burn me to death or carve my heart from my living body.

Did you really do “it”?
Do ‘it’? I suppose that depends on your definition of ‘it’. Did I/do I have sex? Yes. When I first changed—my kind are not ‘turned’ as our vampire cousins are—my need for sex almost destroyed my sanity. My savior—Sarah—became my lover until I was able to control my lust. We have remained good friends for more than 800 years.
I am about to return the favor. Ariadne—my CHOSEN—does not know she is one of my kind. She does not believe in vampires per se (but all humans share a fear of the dark and unknown). I shall help her through her change and pray she will choose to stay with me.

What other characters have influenced you?
Influenced me? Make me wonder what she’s up to? Yes. Dr. Erma Franken—a real vampire—wants my blood. Since we were once lovers, you might assume her 500-year vendetta is that of a woman scorned. I know her need for revenge goes far deeper. What I do not know is what she will do with my blood should she succeed in killing me.

Tell us about the “real” you. Are there any dark secrets you want to share with us?
The ‘real’ me? Like most of my kind—both kindred and vampire—I love flowers. I also enjoy playing tricks—using candles in lieu of electricity to light my castle rooms, for example.

Dark secrets? Ah, the darkest secret of all—how I and others like me survive—is one you must discover for yourself by reading CHOSEN.

What does your significant other think about your adventures? And how do they deal with it?
My significant other—my CHOSEN—is my adventure. Saving her from Erma Franken’s machinations is a challenge only exceeded by Ariadne’s stubbornness—her insistence on dealing with Franken on her own. Not only does Ariadne refuse to see the danger to herself, she resents my attempts to safeguard her. Protecting those we love is another commonality my kind shares with our blood-drinking vampire cousins.

What is your most favorite thing to do?
My favorite thing to do is yet to come—in both the figurative and literal sense. If Ariadne consents to remain with me, we shall have centuries of lovemaking and laughter and tears to share. Only a few tears, I pray, and many more of joy than of sorrow.

What was the best sexual experience you’ve had?
My best sexual experience is yet to come. To know the love of my very long life will share all the long years of her life with me…

Can you really run away in high heels?
I have worn heels—required during my very long lifetime at certain courts—but not recently. I do, however, intend to chase Ariadne when she is wearing them. Trust me, there is little that is more exciting or more enticing than a naked woman running away in high heels. Well…catching her is even more than all that.

What do you think of blood-drinkers?
I pity them. They have lost so much—the touch of sunlight, the scent of flowers, the taste of food. In a very real way I find them repulsive—especially those who sought immortality over their own humanity.

What are the pro’s and con’s to being an alleged vampire?
My longevity, enhanced senses, strength, and speed. Cons? I am sometimes—in truth often—lonely.

Describe your best kill. Why was it the best?
I have killed in wars to save my country. I have killed to protect my sister from a man who thought to rape her. I shall kill without a shred of remorse to keep Ariadne safe. And that will be my best kill.

What kind of abilities do you get when you become, well…what you are?
I was not ‘made’ by another vampire drawing my blood then reviving me with hers. (I cannot imagine myself being made in any sense of the word by a man.) I was bred in the normal human way—the only difference being that my parents are both long-lived. I acquired my powers during the Napoleonic Wars—on the bayonet of a French lad barely old enough to leave his mother’s arms. Like others of my kind, I was in my thirties when granted my powers. All my senses—sight, smell, hearing, taste and touch--grew keener. My strength, while never that of Superman, increased exponentially, as did my ability to run far and fast. I became immune to disease and can die only if my heart is taken or I am burned to death and my ashes scattered.

What makes being with a one of my kind the best sexual experience?
By now you must realize I do not consider myself a vampire. Making love with me is incredible because I focus completely on my partner. And, having lived as long as I have, I know many secrets about how to bring a woman exquisite pleasure. Moreover, my stamina ensures I can bring her again and again and –you get the picture—before I take my own bliss.

How old are you?
I stopped aging when I changed. In that sense, I am and will remain thirty-five. How long have I lived? Almost 900 years.

Can you control when your fangs come out?
I have no fangs.

Do you like synthetic blood?
I do not drink blood of any kind.

Tell us about holy water, garlic and the sun.
I am pagan and know nothing of holy water. Garlic makes my mouth water and enlivens my taste buds. The sun makes my flowers grow.

Do you have to sleep in a coffin?

What do you think about the Cullen Clan?
Deliver me from teenage angst!

What was your experience when you were turned? Tell us a little about it.
I was not ‘turned’! (I expel an impatient breath before continuing.) The bayonet seemed to pierce my belly from front to back. The boy who had sought to kill me grunted as he pulled back. I felt—as keenly as if I could see it happening—the hole in my body reknit. I tingled. The power, my waning strength returned in waves. I smelled gunpowder as if I had inhaled snuff. I tasted it on my tongue. Blood dripped in globs over my uniform, then dried to a rusty stain. And then, miraculously, I was again whole and uninjured.

Have you ever drank animal blood and why?
Never. As I have said (and pardon me if I sound peeved at having to repeat myself) I do not drink blood of any kind.

Finally, is there something you wished we had asked, but didn’t?
I have no questions. I do, however, thank you for this opportunity to tell you about my beloved Ariadne and myself.

Domenic Nadal
October 14, 2675

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Trust Me Book 3 - Jaded Promises - Rebecca Gailen’s Journal – Sweet Dreams

Betrayal - Verb (used with object)
To deliver or expose to an enemy by treachery or disloyalty: Benedict Arnold betrayed his country. To be unfaithful in guarding, maintaining, or fulfilling: to betray a trust. To disappoint the hopes or expectations of; be disloyal to: to betray one's friends. To reveal or disclose in violation of confidence: to betray a secret. To reveal unconsciously (something one would preferably conceal): Her nervousness betrays her insecurity. To show or exhibit; reveal; disclose: an unfeeling remark that betrays his lack of concern. To deceive, misguide, or corrupt: a young lawyer betrayed by political ambitions into irreparable folly.

To seduce and desert

I couldn’t be true, could it? You would never purposely injure me would you? How can someone calculate the torture and demise of someone they love? How do the mind, heart, and soul not prevent such blatant destruction? Self preservation is universal, but how do you defend against something you have only know as love? How do you strike back with a forceful blow when the pain is so crippling the heavens can hear your soul weeping for relief? 

His eyes are cold, lifeless. Abandoned by any remorse, affectation or regard for human frailty, he instead uses these as weapons. Sharpened blade’s with which he means to destroy, damage, and scar. You sent him here. You put my life within his wavy erotic objectification. 

You got what you wanted, didn’t you? Or did you? If you wanted me to know how much hatred skews your understanding of what love is supposed to be, you have succeeded. If you wanted to inflict a blow so imaginably painful that it will leave me scarred and aching for the rest of life. You have succeeded in that as well. 

But if you meant to destroy me, obliterate my sense of self, of security, trust and love you have failed.
I have pity for you now. I am sorry, not for what you think I may or may not have done, or that you have the illusion that I am the monster staring back at you. The mask has been removed. The mirror is clean and there is nowhere to hide when the sunlight of truth fills the room. 

You are the betrayer

You are the monster

You are your own worst nightmare. I will not be there to wake you up when the claws of obsession, unrest, anger and self loathing take hold and tear you apart. You destroyed that solace from pain, and now there is only empty cold in the dark.

Sweet dreams.

Rebecca Gailen is the Heroine from the Trust Me series - Extasy Books - Jaded Promises, Book 3 is coming Feb 1st!
for more info about the author or the Trust Me Series please visit

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Monday, January 24, 2011

5 Cherries

Keeping Blood (Immortal Council Series book #2) was reviewed at Whipped Cream reviews and received 5 cherries!

Fuschia at Whipped Cream said "There's danger, drama, passion, humor and just enough of a hint at what's to come to have you straining your eyes for just one more glimpse of the future."

Keeping Blood: Being a dangerous hybrid makes every immortal your enemy.

Born into a world of immortal creatures Alexia is a one of a kind hybrid between her vampire mother and werewolf father. Shunned by both species she is alone in her world, wishing only to be human and for once, truly accepted. Ian, a werewolf from another pack, shows up and claims she is his fated mate, much to his own displeasure. When Alexia’s parents disappear, she is forced to ask Ian, and a very unpleasant vampire, Paxton, for help in finding them. Thrown together in their mission to save her parents will they also find that they share a fate to be mated? Will Alexia finally find acceptance with Ian, or will their differences keep them apart?


"Ian drove Alexia’s car and she sat silently in the passenger seat, trying to deny the fact that the sweet earthy smell of his blood was as tempting as a dark chocolate truffle. Her fangs were extended in her mouth and she knew her eyes glowed with need. Her sex ached with a different need entirely, as if the scent of his blood were the most potent of aphrodisiacs, perhaps it was. She squirmed in her seat uncomfortably and kept her lids down to keep from alerting any cars they passed with their inhuman glow. She wasn’t able to hide the obvious desire from Ian. He would see the glow of her eyes even though they were pointed down, and he would scent the desire pooling between her thighs.
"Should I be worried that you are going to lose control and attack me?" he asked mockingly.
Alexia hissed at him in response, a noise so vamp like it even startled herself.
"I’ll take that as a no. Well then, how about we discuss the plan for tonight?"
"Whatever." She sighed, but was thankful for the reminder of what she needed to do. The important thing was finding her parents. With that thought firmly planted in her mind, her fangs receded slightly, but the ache between her thighs continued mercilessly. Her whole body felt hot with it."

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Weird Much?

Taking a break from the usual yapping about me to yap about the offspring. ‘The Offspring’ is my 6 y/o daughter, a kid that amazes me in how alike we are. She looks like me—gorgeous as all get out ;)—and has all my temperament. The good, the bad, and the suspect.  

This week she was awarded the Student of the Month award at school. Proud parent here, even if she is in the first grade and she’s been given the award before. It’s always good for the ego when the kid does well. Except I’m not quite sure how much I had to do with it.

She’s self-sufficient, prefers her own company to mine or the Spousal Equivalent, and says things like ‘Oh drat’ and ‘Goy’ and ‘I’m not understanding the situation.’ Crazy talk. She loves books and school. In fact she dreads the weekends because that means no school for two whole days, and however will she cope without school for all those days?

I’ve yet to meet any kid as weird as her. Never approach her with wet hands; she has a heart attack. You can’t leave any doors open, she has to close them. Middle of the night, rising from the deepest of sleep, she gets up to close the bathroom door. Voices perhaps?

Can it be all my weird freakishness has rubbed off on the poor kid? I say no, the SE has a bunch of not-quite-up-to-par things going on too. Why I gotta bear the blame?    

Friday, January 21, 2011

“Guilty Survivor – Memoirs of Tamerla Kendall”

scan0001 I’m Tamerla Kendall and my story is about how I survived living in Sarajevo during the Bosnian War 1992-1995. “Guilty Survivor – Memoirs of Tamerla Kendall”, is written by ghostwriter Marianne Stephens.

Buy link:

What qualities helped you cope with living in a war zone?
I had no choice but to compromise and adjust everyday to whatever I faced. Lack of supplies for my restaurant business meant dealing on the “black market”, making deals with military officers for supplies in exchange for cooking/baking for troops, always looking for water and wood, needed for both my business and my own life.

I couldn’t give up and leave, abandoning my business. My husband and I hoped the war would end soon and wanted to have it for our future. He left shortly after the war began, avoiding military duty but I stayed, running our business.

I had to find inner strength to face each day. And, I had to acknowledge the fact that I’d use the gun I possessed if my life were threatened. Fear had to be compensated for by hope and the desire to live.

Emotions had to be set aside, especially when sniper or grenade attacks happened and I helped those dying and injured. Cleaning blood off sidewalks, walls, streets, had to be done without tears. And, although I cried inside at seeing the dead while knowing I could do nothing for them, I concentrated on the living.

Networking before and during the war helped me to find people I could trust most of the time.

Tell me about your risk-taking trips out of Sarajevo, only to return to keep the family business operating.
I had no choice but to get my daughter out of Sarajevo. I couldn’t risk taking her to school anymore, and she cried with fear while missing her father (he’d already left). Through a carefully, secretive plan using two cars and different drivers, I passed three checkpoints with her and brought her to safety.

My second trip had me dressing as a United Nations soldier.

Unofficial EXCERPT:

My second trip to Kiseljak was more difficult and done with me masquerading as a soldier. I’d called Commander Ivicarajic of the Croatian army to ask for help in crossing the border in November of 1992. I made a deal to transport some food supplies for him. I would be allowed to cross over into Croatia this way.

I then spoke to United Nations’ officer, Vladimir Sidorenko, (from the Ukraine) and asked him for help in getting across the border lines. He came to Restaurant Meli often and was known to help the people in Sarajevo.

He told me to go to the UN barrack area at night, sleep there, get up at 4:00am and dress like a UN soldier in a Ukrainian, UNPROFOR uniform (United Nations Protection Forces) he provided. Part of the deal was that I’d bring supplies back with me for his troops. Desperate to visit my family and encouraged by his plan, I agreed.

I arrived at the UN barrack late that night. A blue and green military uniform and boots were provided for me and I slept in a military bed but was given a room and bathroom just for me. Other soldiers knew I was a woman but keep my secret.

The uniform was big, as were the boots. I used cloth and tightly circled it around my chest to hide my breasts. I stuffed paper into the boots so my feet wouldn’t slide out. I put on the uniform and l looked at myself in a mirror. Even without makeup, I was afraid I’d be noticed and discovered to be a woman.

I pushed and pinned up my hair high on my head and pulled the cap down low enough to hide my hair and almost cover my eyes. The less seen of me the better. Even without using perfume, soap, or deodorant, I still thought I smelled like a woman. I practiced lowering my voice when I spoke, although the plan was for me not to speak at all. Would I pass as a man? Sound like one? Go unnoticed among other soldiers?

For one crazy instance, I imagined myself as preparing to go on a secret mission. I thought about spy movies I’d seen or books I’d read where people had to wear disguises. Not only had I found many avenues of keeping my restaurant operating, thanks to the war, but now I found a new talent. I would have my first performance as an actress.

I did not have to walk from checkpoint to checkpoint with other soldiers, but got to ride in a tank. I remained silent, even in the tank, and the other soldiers inside with me ignored my presence. Maybe it was their way of following orders to treat me as another soldier, and keep from staring. If they didn’t look at me, I really wasn’t there.

If you could offer your author advice, what would it be?
My advice would be for anyone. Be prepared to find inner strength and rely on your knowledge to get through troubling times. Network. You never know when some contact will be needed. Treat others with kindness and respect, and they’ll be the ones you can trust in difficult times. Trust others to help, but always be on guard for those who’ll betray you.

Are you happy with the way people perceive you?
Although I learned English while in my homeland, I still needed to learn more. As an adult, it’s not an easy transition. People sometimes avoid me, possibly because I’m still considered a “foreigner” and don’t have a better command of the English language. I tend to shy away from people because I’m not sure they’ll take the time to understand me.
Although I ran my own business, went to college, and have many skills associated with managing a restaurant and preparing food, I had to start at “square one” again in the US. I encountered some resentment from those trying to teach me what to do…while I already had more experience than they did.

Tell us a little bit about your daily life living in a war zone.
I never knew if the electricity, gas, water, or phones would work. Each day meant worrying about how to compensate for the lack of utilities. I had to carefully scrutinize supplies to figure out what I could serve…and what I had to go find on the “black market” or barter for. Sniper and grenade attacks happened at random. Usually once a day, during a “lull” period between warring factions, I’d dress up and walk my dog in the park. Others did the same. We had a two-hour “window” of eerie silence and would act as if we lived normal lives. How foolish I now feel, thinking about how I could have easily set myself up as a sniper’s target. Every night, I slept with a gun nearby. Some employees slept in the restaurant and I hired some protection people to stay with them.

What is the most frightening thing that has happened to you?
So many things to choose from. My trips out of Sarajevo were frightening. So was the first grenade attack on my restaurant. But another scary event after the war forced me to make a major life-changing decision. I was robbed at gunpoint and almost shot. Threatened because I’d married an American, I had to decide what would be best for my family’s future safety.

What other characters have influenced you?
My first husband taught me not to trust men. My second husband’s values of honesty, determination and work ethics, fortified my own values and goals. He’s a man of integrity and honor.

Have you ever lost control?
After taking my daughter to safety, I returned to Sarajevo to find my house had been torched and burned. Once back at my restaurant, I found it had been robbed by soldiers while I was surveying my destroyed home. Frustrated, I lost control and confronted a military officer. Luckily for me, he listened and agreed to my compromise. He’d return my stuff if I’d cook/bake for his unit. I realize now how risky my action had been in confronting him.

Is there a question you wish I had asked but didn’t?
Have you returned to Sarajevo? I’ve made some trips back, but it’s not the same. There’s only one friend I still see when I go. I visit my parents’ cemetery. My sister and I still own their home. I’ve turned over my restaurant to my daughter, and it’s to be sold. The home I’d rebuilt after the war will also be sold. I’m always happy to visit, but things have changed and my life is in the US now.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Trust Me Trilogy - Completed Feb 1st!

In Trust Me, Serenity Lost we met Rebecca, Eric and Charlie. A love triangle balanced against the horrifying efforts of a psychotic killer.

In Trust Me, Veiled Deception we reeled as our heroine, Rebecca, fights to survive while Charlie and Eric remained a step behind in their efforts to protect her.

In the thrilling conclusion of the series, Trust Me, Jaded Promises, Rebecca is missing and everything changes with a single phone call. Rebecca fights to hang on, thinking the man she loves it dead and there is nothing left for her beyond pain. Eric and Charlie rush to rescue her unknowing that the worst is yet to come.

This is my premiere series. It is everything I would want in a romantic suspense. I always tell writers to write what they are passionate about and I am all about the romantic thriller. I adore all of the characters in this series and sincerely hope that you enjoy the final installment when it arrives on Feb 1st.

My newest series with Extasy Books will be out soon and the future is bright! I have new characters to introduce that I hope will entice your fancy. An arrogant playboy morning radio show host, a FBI agent struggling with confidence and a Radio station owner who has connections no one knows and a secret he will take to his grave. “Shockwave” is coming in 2011. 

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Monday, January 17, 2011

Great News

I got the call tonight, a wonderful call from my author. She has finished the next book and is allowing me to release just a little information about it. Book #5 in The Immortal council Series is.....Skin and Moon! It is the story of Terrance, the werewolf representative on the council, and his mate, Emmalia. Emmalia is a witch....yeah my opinion on witches is almost as high as my opinion of mermaids. Crazy bitches they are and i'm not sure that opinion is anywhere near to changing....but we will see, I am open to getting to know her and perhaps deciding she is the one witch out there who isn't a completely insane being.

Okay so the title and the log line I am being allowed to share...

Betrayal comes from unexpected places, and so does love.

A very good title and log line I do believe. As always I am happy and impressed with what my chosen author has decided to do with our stories. I will hopefully very soon be sharing with you much more but for now I suggest you run to her site and check out the previous books if you haven't already. You will want to read, Blood Visions (my story) Keeping Blood (Alexia and Ian's story) Wet Glamour (Lucas and Rina's story) and Mating Call (Lillian and Henry's story) Before Skin and Moon so that you are all caught up on the goings on of everyone.

Sunday, January 16, 2011


Last week I was out of sorts, darlings. In physical pain. Got over my bitching on that front pretty fast though; turns out emotional pain can be ten times worse that the physical.

To that end, I’m still not myself. Too raw, too much on the verge of hurting someone. And not in the way I prefer. I don’t want to bring you all down, so let’s mosey on past that hurdle right there. Let’s talk about me.

Hah. Your favorite topic, I know. Oh…is it mine?

Don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before but it bears repeating. I don’t like making small talk, don’t care too much for the whole people thing. I mean, why I gotta be dong that for? I remain unapologetically a hermit.
Times have changed. I began writing, began *gasp* making friends. Surprised the crap outta me! Who knew the writing community was so damned friendly. Someone should’ve said something. I’d have rethought this whole my dream is to write erotic romance angle. Sure that action would’ve made me the bitterest of bitches, but hey, I would be left alone.

Like I want to be.

This amazing community is so large and yet, so miniscule. Everyone knows everyone somehow. They’re all helping, offering advice, shoulders to cry on. It’s crazy. Crazy I tell you. The sincere gift of warmth is all over the place, all inviting and stuff. What am I supposed to do but bask in it?

Aah…feels good.

I’ve landed square in the middle of welcoming faces. Damn it *she whispers* I like it… 

Friday, January 14, 2011

Goddess help us all!

Today I feel the need to discuss my human author because, I fear that she is going to blow her top soon and the effects will be nothing short of a nuclear explosion.

First, her partner, Jennifer found a hot water foundation leak in their home a few days before Christmas. It is now the middle of January and almost nothing has been resolved. By that, I mean that neither the texturing of the sheetrock, painting or floors have been repaired or replaced.

Secondly, Annie found that several of her books were up on a pirate site.

And, last but not least, her computer got a major virus! The very same computer that has all of MY personal information on it.

Truth be told, if I could find the humans responsible for this chaos, I would impose some Hightower justice upon them, myself.

Of all the perils I have faced in my many years, I have yet to fear any human, but there is something quiet and cynical that hides behind Annie's smile that gives me reason to believe she is a force to be reckoned with. 

Wish me luck!

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Temperance - Blog Post of Kate Weiss

I have a problem with no solution. I think I am in love with a man I can never be with. Just thinking about him makes me weak. No one has ever had this effect on me and I have to say it is really pissing me off. This is not the way it is supposed to work. I don’t want or need a relationship. I don’t have the time or energy. But…oh the way I feel when I am with him. His control over me is palpable, scorching and addictive. I lose myself in the warmth of his touch, his demanding embrace and his liquid gaze.
The memories of our night together are still fresh in my mind. While I struggle to push them away they always return. We can never be together, we come from two different worlds and I know how that works. I can’t do it again. So if my brain knows this, why won’t my heart listen? Why does it continue to call his name in the dark of night?
I left for a reason, he rejected me. He thinks I lied to him, that I was keeping the truth hidden from view. The betrayal shining in his eyes still stabs at me. How could I ever ask for his forgiveness when any relationship we could build is doomed to failure?

Taking a deep breath, he moved across the parking lot and to her door. He was about to knock when he heard his name.
“Jack?” He turned to see her walking toward him, her male companion at her side.
“What are you doing here?”
“I needed to see you,” his eyes locking with hers.
“You two obviously need to be alone,” Kate’s friend said giving Jack a look of warning. “I’m going to head inside.”
Kate simply nodded, not breaking Jack’s gaze. The man disappeared into her house. She stood staring at him and Jack realized she was waiting for him to say something.
“I wanted to apologize for the way I left things in Vegas.” She looked away from him.
“Thanks, but it’s over. I’m --”
“I know I messed up. I didn’t mean to push you away and I--”
“I don’t know what this is. All I know is that since you left everything…stopped.””
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Her eyes filled with emotion and he saw a ray of hope.
 “Listen to me,” moving closer, looking down into her eyes. “I know that this isn’t what was supposed to happen, but it did and I want to start over.”
“I’m not good for you, Jack,” hugging herself as if a chill had fallen between them.
“That’s not true,” shortening the space between them. The ocean air swept through her hair, her scent filling him. “I have never been more alive than I am with you.”
“It’s a fantasy. It isn’t real.”
“Yes it is,” seeing the denial in her eyes. “I’ve tried to forget, Kate! I’ve told myself that it wasn’t real--”
“No, Jack…”
“But I was wrong! It is real and I can’t let it go,” refusing to let her push him away, keeping her eyes locked within his. “And I don’t think you can either.”
He watched her struggle and wanted desperately to wrap his arms around her.  He forced himself to stay where he was. She gulped something back and took a deep breath.
“I have nothing to give you.”
“I’m not asking for anything,” searching her eyes for some sign of hope.
“Yes you are.”
 “You are…you are looking for Texas Kate. Problem is that laid back, nice, Texas Kate doesn’t exist! My life is complicated, dangerous and all consuming! At the end of the day there is nothing left.” she purposely stepped back, out of his reach. “You think you know me, Jack, but you don’t.”
“You’re right I don’t, not all of you. But I do know the Kate I rode the stratosphere with, the woman who prefers an orange soda over a beer, who didn’t hesitate to tell me when I was being a selfish ass. The exquisite creature I held before the world exploded.”
“Please…stop.” the words sent her spiraling away from him her hand running through her hair as she refused to meet his eyes.
“I’m useless without you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for!”
“Yes there is. I was trying to run away from who I am and you got caught up in it.  None of it was real. The Kate you are talking about doesn’t exist, she never did. I’m sorry that I misled you—“
“Don’t do this. Don’t stand there and tell me it was a lie when you know it wasn’t! I know you felt it too. I saw it in your eyes when you looked at me. It was overwhelming and I can’t forget. I don’t want to forget--”
 “It’s a fairy tale,” breaking away from any connection he had made with her. “It’s not real. She’s not real! I created a character to cope, to hide and you fell for her, but she doesn’t exist. She never did! Let it go.”
“I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
“Believe it, I’m not as understanding as your Kate. I don’t have the time or the patience. It’s unproductive and does me no good.”
“Fine,” blocking her eye line, forcing her to face him. “Look at me and tell me that you don’t want me here. Tell me that I am crazy. Tell me there is nothing but air between us and I’ll go.”
They seemed frozen in time. Jack saw a flicker of light in her eyes but it disappeared, as if she had consciously decided to extinguish their last ray of hope, and his heart ached.
“I’m sorry, Jack.” He watched her turn and walk away from him. He wanted to stop her, tell her that she was being stupid. They could make it work, but he didn’t. He let her go.
He let her walk away.

Exclusive look at Shockwave - Temperance, the Tarot Card Series from Extasy Books. Coming Soon! 
©Amy Romine

Monday, January 10, 2011

A Vampire Movie I Like

I was reminded today of one of my favorite vampire movies. Now as a rule I hate vampire movies, often depicting us as either ugly monsters or blood thirsty maniacs. Don't get me started on the recent "prettying" of vampires, I think that is the worst thing yet.

But there is one movie, which I was first aware of as a book of course, which automatically signifies a better story in my mind....Bram Stoker's Dracula....

This is a story I can enjoy. I remember when the story was first published in 1897. I enjoyed it greatly and even paid a visit to its author. I was tempted to make a lover of him, but at that time it was too risky and so I did the next best thing. I protected him from the other vampires who happened along to kill him. They didn't appreciate him adding to the already overactive imaginations of humans.

One thing that interests me about the story now is the fact that he allowed his vampire limited sun exposure. It reminds me of Alexia and I can't help but wonder if her ran into such a else would he have thought to change that classic vampire trait that humans believed.

It makes me wonder if we will ever run into an older half vampire out there. Some creature who has hidden itself well for hundreds of years, in fear for its life among the separation obsessed immortals.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Not Myself Today

I'm afraid I'm not my usual witty self today, darlings. I'm in a world of pain. A few days ago I slipped on some black ice and and fell down my porch steps. Twisted my left ankle, blew my back out and my entire left side is swollen black and blue. I can't move worth a damn.

Fortunately the Spousal Equivalent has been a trooper, helping me around the house and carrying me around. Even now he's pouting that I'm on the 'puter. He did make me brownies and that went a long way in helping with the pain. Well, that and the lovely pills. *sigh*

Alright, I promise next time I'll be my usual vulgar self, but right now it's back to allowing the man to rub me down with scented oils. Oh, and take care of my swollen body too.

Friday, January 7, 2011

Cars Vampires Like

Zoe_Lionheart_100 Okay, you haven’t watched where you’re going, perhaps picked up a handsome hitchhiker at night, who’s now baring his fangs toward you. Be certain he’s not offering to open a can of your favorite soup.

You should know by now that you have failed a basic survival test. But perhaps you can still talk yourself out of the situation? After all, you’re prepared.

You drive around in a Car Vampires Like, so you start to explain all the little details, how you got it souped up, how it’s running and so on. Don’t talk about maintenance cost, fuel consumption or pollution though—those are boring topics Vampires won’t care about. Then, with your nicest innocent smile you ask, “Like to take the wheel?”

If you´re really lucky the Vampire will be off with your car so you can run and hide away until the break of dawn. But rather likely he’ll invite you on the passenger seat so that you can continue explaining the details of your truly cool car.

So what could that be? I won’t talk about “foreign” cars, as most cars are “foreign” in most places. But there are some classes you might consider (without numbering, in no specific order):

•    American muscle cars
You own an AC Cobra? Or a Big Block Corvette Sting Ray? Those are the engines a Vampire likes to hear, those make the vibrations he likes to feel in his teeth. Almost a safe bet!

•    Classic British cars
A classic British roadster, preferably in English lawn green, will appeal to the old school connoisseur, and most Vampires are old school. Regardless if MG, Triumph, Aston Martin or Jaguar, if you can add some stories about the Good Old Empire, you´re relieved.

•    Fine German-engineered cars
You better got an engineer’s grade yourself, as your guest will ask you about each and every detail of the progressive power steering, the variable suspension, the direct-shift gear, the four-valve turbo engine and so on. Almost all types of Porsche will do the trick, but a winged-door Mercedes SL is the ultimate solution.

•    Racy Italian cars
You show style? You can never go wrong with a Ferrari or Lamborghini. Any of them. I needn’t say more.

•    Truly extraordinary
There are a few types of car that might let your Vampire forget all his blood lust. If you can get your hands on an Iso Rivolta, he might even call you friend. Or a well-conserved Duesenberg. You can talk about the difficulties to get spare parts—and maybe he’ll know someone…

You might have noticed I did not mention BMW, Alfa Romeo or any Japanese brand. That doesn’t mean they can’t build fine cars, but you don’t want to waste your life explaining to a Vampire why they could be equally adequate, do you? I neither mentioned the DeLorean, because it is highly unlikely you got one with a working Flux compensator.
Just be sure you didn’t pick the wrong color. Brown is a no-no even with the fastest little runabout.

Now once you’ve spent the larger part of the night preferably on curvy mountain roads, in the morning you go over a crest—dawn welcomes you—poof! you’ve got rid of your Vampire problem.
However, you’ve also got rid of your driver at a hundred miles per hour on a curvy mountain road…

Oh, and one more thing I forgot—this mainly works with male Vampires. For females you might try racy shoes…
Next time I will suggest some ways to make friends with a Vampire.

Stay tuned.

LIONESSWINGSQuickened by her new findings Zoe takes up the fight against the masterminds. But those pull out all the stops, they are prepared to draw entire mankind in a world spanning war. Provided with extensive authority, April and Zoe try to stop the lingering doom.

Buy Link

Monday, January 3, 2011

Another Great Review!

The Immortal Council series has received another great review! This time Mating Call was reviewed by Night Owl Reviews and given a 4.75 a reviewer top pick! I was ecstatic when I heard, a great way for the new year to kick off and also it has kicked my authors butt back in gear. She has been working on the next book in the series again and I am a happy little vampire because of it.

"With twists and turns I was not expecting, the story is well written, informative but not so descriptive that you lose interest. I cannot wait to read more from this author!!"

His voice calls to her in a place where she cannot deny it. It excites her so she doesn’t want to deny it. She will deny it all to save her principles. He wants her, his wolf won’t leave her. He will give her what she needs, whether she likes it or not.


His eyes settled back to brown and he shut the door. As he approached her to take the clothing, he breathed deep and his eyes once again flared to yellow.
Lillian stepped away quickly, knowing what that change was all about--he could scent the remains of her desire, the pleasure she had allowed herself to feel for him in private. She knew her eyes were wide, not from fright, but shame for him to know that she so desired him.
He stared at her for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly, hands clenched around the fabric of the borrowed clothes. He opened his mouth, as if he were about to say something, then shut it and walked to the bathroom.
She sagged with relief, falling into the nearby chair. This situation may be more than she was capable of handling. After gathering herself once again, she restrained her emotions and pushed all feeling aside. She sat straight and still in the chair, ready to tell him what she proposed.
Henry came out of the bathroom, his long hair dry now and floating around his shoulders, which were wide and pressing out at the seams of Lucas’s borrowed tunic.
She was going to have to find him some better fitting clothes. This was almost as bad as having him naked. She could see every line of his body and what made it worse, was she knew exactly what each line looked like without clothes. The image was forever burned into her brain and it was excruciatingly pleasant. “I have thought of something that might work well, a plan of sorts to find the traitor in my colony.”
Henry gave her a look clearly stating his doubt.
She almost stopped. He was going to hate the idea, but it was better than his lame idea. There was just no way any of the elves in her colony would buy that she needed him as protection. “I think that my idea is better suited to our situation and definitely more believable.”
“Uh-huh, right. So what is it?” He sat across from her and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest and looking completely closed off to anything she had to say, as if he were merely humoring her with listening at all.
It grated on her nerves. “You know what, never mind. It doesn’t matter. You’ll just tell me it’s not as good as your idea, even though it is, stubborn male.”
He shot forward in his seat, eyes bulging out in shock. “I’m stubborn? Are you kidding me? You are the elf here. It doesn’t get much more stubborn than that.”
“Elves are not stubborn. We believe what we believe and we, unlike so many others, adhere to our beliefs. We don’t pick and choose when we want to follow our own rules.”
“Oh yeah, is that why you mated with a different species? Is that why you have a half-breed daughter out there?”