Showing posts with label guest post: stacey kennedy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guest post: stacey kennedy. Show all posts

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Bewitching Book Tours Guest Post: Stacey Kennedy


One of my favorite authors is with us today! I'm so excited to welcome Stacey Kennedy back to A Chick Who Reads!



It’s really quite simple—let’s look at a simple week shall we…
Monday – You’re dealing with kids who don’t want to wake up for school. Maybe you spent the weekend cleaning your house, but soon you realize it’s now a mess again. Your day is spent cleaning the house you already cleaned, getting the kids off to school, and somehow dragging yourself out of the Monday blues.
Tuesday – You’re still dealing with kids who don’t want to go to school. Now you also have to deal with the laundry that seems to have appeared out of nowhere. Didn’t you just do it on the weekend? And why is your house still messy?!
Wednesday – Okay, the kids are more agreeable and getting off to school is a bit easier. You’re folding laundry from the day before, and also trying to pick a meal that your kids won’t scowl at and will actually eat. And now you’re in the middle of the week still cleaning up the house that appears to never stay clean. Not only that, but damn do you really have to clean the kitty litter? This is so NOT sexy!
Thursday – Oh excitement, the weekend is almost here! Your kids now start counting down the days until they’re off—repeatedly. And all you keep thinking about is the cleaning that’s soon upon you. You are keeping track of what’s going with school, doing homework, taking care of your pets, making sure your kids eat healthy lunches—oh right, you have to go grocery shopping. And when was the last time you put makeup on? Going to the grocery store in basically your pajamas is acceptable, right?
Friday—The weekend has arrived. You exhale a deep breath of relief because soon you can erase half of your duties because there’s no school, no homework, no grumbling kids that fight you about everything, and you can sleep in. But you realize for a week you have been wearing jogging pants and your hair has been in a ponytail. Your showers have lasted a total of five minutes and wait…have you even thought of yourself all week? And let's not even add into the picture if you've had sick kids to deal with, which if you have, you'd be not only lacking sleep but probably now have been covered in germs.
Then enters your well-rested hubby on a Saturday morning that has been waggling his eyebrows at you all week. While normally a romantic night would be right up your alley, this week has exhausted you. You’ve been glaring at him every time he looks at you because you’ve been pulled in a thousand directions and you want a moment to yourself! If he dared to put a hand on you at all through the week, you would have cut it off!
But a romantic night would be nice and you may feel a bit bad for glaring at him while he's tried very hard to romance you...
That is, if you can get past the pile of laundry, kids, responsibilities, thoughts of the next week ahead and the thousand things you have to do. 
So, how do you fix this? 
Read one helluva naughty story. A book that won’t take you a week to read, but simply a couple hours. You take that book into a hot bath with bubbles, give yourself a much needed glass of wine—all of which you deserve. And you shut the world out! It’s the perfect way for moms—me included—to let go of our busy lives that can be totally unsexy, and allow our minds to simmer in an erotic tale.
Take it from my experience, your hubby will ensure he gives you that time alone…often…since the woman that comes out of that bath is the sexy-kitten he fell in love with, not the one in jogging pants!  It really is a win-win!!



 



Book Title: BEG FOR IT

Genre: BDSM erotic romance

Publisher: Loose Id

Date of Publication: May 29, 2012

ISBN: 978-1-61118-685-7

Purchase Links:




The Pact of Seduction has one rule—fulfill your ultimate fantasy. Bella’s problem, she can’t live up to her vow. But her failure spins events that lead her into unknown territory. Kole, a Dom at the sex club Castle Dolce Vita, wasn’t part of her fantasy, but he’s about to show her he should have been.
Kole is more than willing to introduce Bella to BDSM since he’s held an interest in her for some time. But the feisty woman isn’t easily tamed and her strong personality proves to be difficult. While she might be determined to keep him at a distance, Kole has other ideas. He won’t allow her to shut him out.
A pact between best friends brought them together, emotional barriers tear them apart. Kole skillfully reminds Bella through pleasure and punishment that she is now his submissive, and her place is under his command.
Publisher’s Note: This book contains explicit sexual situations, graphic language, and material that some readers may find objectionable: BDSM theme and elements, including spanking.
~*~
Teaser:
Copyright © STACEY KENNEDY, 2012
All Rights Reserved, Loose Id
Only one thing would save Bella now—a stiff drink. Reed and Kole’s parties were always fun, and it was nice to see new friends she’d made over the past month. But her mood was right in the toilet. It’d been that way all day and had only gotten worse since she joined the party. She shouldn’t have come.
She cursed on a low breath. How in the hell was she going to get out of her current predicament? Originally, it’d been she who offered the idea of the pact of seduction, and she couldn’t even commit. Pathetic.
Marley’s giggle drew her attention, and Reed had pulled her onto his lap, nibbling at her neck. As horrible as it was, jealously surged. Maybe she had hoped that her fantasy would fill that empty void in her soul. Sure, it was meant as something sexually fun, but Bella craved something…
A part of her remained unfulfilled, even if she didn’t understand exactly what was missing. All she knew, her life at this moment was boring with a side of totally sucks.
She glanced over at Kyra, who laughed with Sadie, and nudged her arm. “I’ll be back. I need some air.”
“Sure.” Kyra’s green eyes were a little glassy. The wine clearly had gotten to her. “Want some company?”
“Nah.” She plastered on a fake smile. “I won’t be long.”
Kyra gave a nod, then turned her attention back at Sadie as the two chuckled about something Sadie had said. If only Bella had something to laugh about. She rose from the couch and made her way through the crowd.
As she passed, she noticed a man sitting on the ottoman and a woman knelt at his feet with her arms over his legs. The position appeared casual enough, but it also looked…different. As if the woman enjoyed being at his feet. Another spurt of jealously soared, and she gave her head a good hard shake. She was apparently envious of everyone who had a relationship. And since when had she been jealous of a BDSM relationship?
What’s gotten into you?
She made her way through the living room and stepped out onto the balcony. The cool air brushed against her skin, and she shivered. Winter still hung on in Baltimore, but what a strange winter it’d been—snow one day, mild the next. Tonight was brisk, but that only seemed to help cool off the annoyance burning her blood.
With her glass in her hands, she leaned on the railing and glanced over the city. Reed and Kole’s condo had an amazing view and the lights twinkled below.
She sipped at her drink and pondered her situation. How could she plan another fantasy when the only one she wanted she had yet to fully accept herself? And why was she acting like a bitter idiot?
After a long gulp that had her cringing from the aftertaste, a deep voice interrupted her useless thoughts. “I heard last night didn’t go well.”
She lowered the glass, licked the moisture on her lips, and looked next to her to find Kole. Like always in his presence, butterflies fluttered in her stomach, but she squashed them and kept her voice controlled. “That’s putting it lightly.”
His blond stylish hair framed a face worth a second look, and his dark blue eyes shone with a power that made her melt. He leaned against the railing beside her, cocked his head, and she felt the weight of his stare right down to her toes. “Tell me about it.”
She sipped her drink, mortified to her bones that she had to admit this to Kole. “It wasn’t Raven’s fault. I”—she drew in a deep breath and said quickly—“I always thought my fantasy was to be with a woman, but clearly it’s not.”
“Ah, I see.” He took a gulp of his beer before he lowered it. “You didn’t get off, I’m assuming?”
She snorted. “If laughing in her face means that I didn’t get off, then yes, I didn’t get off.”
He chuckled, the sound so seductive Bella quivered. In response to that odd reaction, she examined him and couldn’t stop from admiring the view.
He was dressed in a pair of dark jeans that no doubt hugged his fine ass, and a black T-shirt that was snug around the muscles beneath. Good God. She licked her lips for reasons that had nothing to do with her drink.
“You didn’t follow through with your part of the pact, then?”
Her gaze lifted to his face. The glint in his eyes declared he’d been quite aware of her admiring him. Hell, she’d lusted after him since the day they met. A strong sexual attraction existed between them that she hadn’t experienced before with any man, especially a Dom.
She blinked and focused away from the warmth that formed between her thighs. “That’s right. I bailed on the pact.”
His gaze became penetrating as his tone dipped lower. “Why don’t you arrange another night with someone else for your fantasy?”
“Because”—her muscles stiffened, and after a long sigh, she grimaced—“I have no idea what that fantasy is now.”
“Such a problem for a woman to have,” he mused.
She gulped at the way his voice seemed to carry into her soul; then she lowered her head to avoid eye contact with him. He raised his bottle to his mouth, and his arm brushed against hers. Tingles zinged through her, and she squeezed her thighs together to ease the throb of her clit.
How did he make her body do that? Every time he was near, she all but sizzled, and when he touched her, everything was amplified.
“I see that you need help, then, in finding what you’re looking for.”
It hadn’t sounded like a question, which she was glad for since her tight throat made it impossible to answer. He slid his finger along her arm, slowly and with clear intent to unravel her.
She bit her bottom lip. “W-what does that mean?”
He tucked his finger under her chin and lifted her head. “I think we both know what I mean.” Those eyes of his burned with the lust that he had obviously contained. “You enjoy my attention, and I’d enjoy you under my command.”
Then he pressed a finger on the back of her hand and danced his touch up her arm. His gaze followed his caresses every step of the way. And damn him if she didn’t close her eyes and shudder.
A scrape of his nail along her skin drew her eyes open, and he grinned with sin. “Look how beautifully you react to me.” He finally reached her shoulder, and she trembled under the softness of his touch that seemed to contradict that power oozing from him. He tucked his fingers back under her chin, drew her head up, and stared intently into her eyes.
Searching for what, she had no idea.
His hold tensed, a shift in his gaze appeared that made her stomach flip-flop, and her panties were now soaked. He leaned in, pressed his lips against hers, and the world froze. His luscious and damn well perfect mouth molded with hers as his silky tongue swept her away. When had anyone ever kissed her like this?
Oh, right—never.
He kissed her thoroughly, leaving no part of her mouth untouched; then he backed away but kept hold of her chin. “It’s time to stop ignoring what your body needs and accept that you want to be dominated.”
Hell, how right was he? Maybe BDSM wasn’t her fantasy when she made the pact of seduction with her friends, but after hearing about it from Marley, her interest had grown. She lifted a lazy shoulder to appear nonchalant. “I suppose if I set up a scene with you, that would be a solution to my problem.”
“Not good enough.” His gaze hardened. “Do you want me to take you into a scene, Bella?”
At his pause, she realized she needed to give a better answer, and she nodded. “I do.”
He examined her for a long moment before he finally said, “Now what are your interests in BDSM?”
She melted at the way he stared at her now. So intense. So wicked. Was this a hint of what he’d look like in a scene? Her body flushed, yet she held her focus and lifted her chin. She had always prided herself on staying strong around powerful men.
Her job as a stockbroker in Baltimore’s top lending investment firm meant she swam with the sharks. Most of her coworkers were authoritative men. If she’d showed weakness, she wouldn’t be where she was today, and she’d worked hard for her position.
“I’m interested in”—her throat went dry. All these fantasies she hadn’t admitted to anyone. Was she really going through with this? Her soaking panties declared it so—“ropes, sex toys, floggers, to be controlled, pleasure, and pain.” She raised her glass to her mouth and tried to ignore the way her hands shook.
Before the rim could reach her lips, Kole snatched the glass from her hands and set it on the ground next to him. “If we’re discussing this and you are serious, you will stop drinking.”
A flare of irritation rose up that he’d be so bold to take her drink right out of her hands, yet Marley had said that Castle Dolce Vita Doms never allowed submissives to drink alcohol in a scene to ensure they were clearheaded. And since they were discussing what would happen between them, she let it go. “Okay.”
He gave a short nod. “Now I want to make sure you’re well aware of what will happen and what I expect of you.” His gaze searched hers, seemingly looking right through her. “And I need to be sure that I’m the correct Dom for you.”
“I don’t want anyone else,” she blurted out before she could stop herself.
His eyebrows rose. “I don’t mind your answer, Bella.” A small grin turned up the corners of his mouth. “But do tell—have you put more thought into this than you’re letting on?”
Her cheeks had never burned so hot, but she wouldn’t be that woman who’d stumble around a man. She stuffed her nervousness away, clasped her hands, and demanded her voice to be strong. “Maybe once or twice.”
She’d been aware of the mutual attraction between them, so two could play his game. “Are you trying to deny you haven’t thought about it too?”
He winked. “Maybe once or twice.”
A flutter whipped around inside her, her palms grew clammy, and she squeezed her fingers. Why did he make her act so…knocked off her axis?
“One thing that needs to be discussed is my expectations.” He glanced at her hands for a moment as if he took in her reaction before he looked back into her eyes. “From what I know of you as you are now, you’d struggle to meet them. And I want to make that clear so you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped. “Why would I struggle to meet your demands?”
He gave his head a slow shake. “I’m not saying it to insult you, but to give you a stern warning. I don’t play lightly.”
“Well, I…” Her entire face burned hot as if she had a high-grade fever. Marley had told her all about Kole. How he enjoyed pain play. How strict he was in how a submissive behaved. And all it’d done was increase the throb between her thighs. Solidified the fantasy. “I think I might like that.”
He gave a delicious smile. “I have no doubt you would.”
And then his lips were back on hers as he swept her away in another leg-wobbling kiss before those plush lips tore away from hers.
“You’ll arrive at the castle next Friday at seven o’clock. I’ll have a room reserved.” He dropped his head, his eyes in the direct line of hers. “When you arrive, remove your clothes, kneel in the center of the room, and wait for me. Clear?”
Heat spread across her body at the images playing in her head. Nude? Kneeling? Oh God! She quivered in anticipation.
At his expectant expression, she nodded instead of offering him a breathy response.
“Good.” He took her mouth again playfully, nibbled on the corners of her lips, and flicked her lips with his tongue. And when he had her body ramped up to a fever pitch, he backed away to trail his thumb over her lips. “Can you be honest and open with me?”
Drool, honest-to-God drool, formed in her mouth. Everyday Kole was sexy. Dom Kole was to die for. The sheer power that exuded from him, intensity in his features, it all captivated her. He’d asked her to be honest with him—how hard could that be? “I can do that.”
He nodded in approval, skimmed her mouth again with his thumb, while his gaze stayed focused there. The smile he gave, the possessiveness held in the depths of his eyes, liquefied her insides.
Something sparked through his touch, only increasing with his kiss, and even more so by the way he looked at her now. One of those duh moments. Had what she wanted—desired—been standing right in front of her this entire time?
In less than a week, she’d have the answer.

~*~
 



Stacey Kennedy’s erotic romance novels are just that…erotic. There is nothing better than taking the dominant men she loves and watching them do wicked things to their women. But she just can’t write without a little humor added into the mix so that’s always a must have in her stories. And of course what’s a story without a big dose of emotional characters, too. Her urban fantasy/paranormal and erotic romance series have hit Amazon Kindle and All Romance eBooks bestseller lists.

Stacey welcomes comments from readers. You can find her at www.staceykennedy.com.





Book Description:

The Pact of Seduction has one rule: fulfill your ultimate fantasy. Bella’s problem, she can’t live up to her vow. But her failure spins events that lead her into unknown territory. Kole, a Dom at the sex club Castle Dolce Vita, wasn’t part of her fantasy, but he’s about to show her he should have been.

Kole is more than willing to introduce Bella to BDSM since he’s held an interest in her for some time. But the feisty woman isn’t easily tamed and her strong personality proves to be difficult. While she might be determined to keep him at a distance, Kole has other ideas. He won’t allow her to shut him out.

A pact between best friends brought them together, emotional barriers tear them apart. Kole skillfully reminds Bella through pleasure and punishment that she is now his submissive, and her place is under his command.

Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual situations, graphic language, and material that some readers may find objectionable: anal play/intercourse, BDSM theme and elements.

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Bewitching Book Tours Guest Post: Stacey Kennedy



Big thanks to A Chick Who Reads for letting me stop in today! The character Tess Jennings in SUPERNATURALLY KISSED has the ability to see and talk with spirits. I’ve always been really fascinated with mediums and curious if they were real. I have two favorite mediums that I’ve grown to love and they’re both from the television show, Paranormal State.

The first is Chip Coffey. I don’t know what it is about that man that makes me believe him so much, but I swear he has some spooky connection to the beyond. I know we’ve all seen a lot of mediums that are as phony as they come, but Chip makes me pause. Every episode I’ve watched with him he always shocks me with what he knows. Now of course I have no idea if this is real or made up for TV, but I always had the sense to trust what he was saying. And the information that he gives, all the strange knowledge he delivers, and even how he can pinpoint the way the ghost died makes my jaw drop.


Another one I loved off that show is Lorraine Warren. Every time she came on Paranormal State I was utterly glued to the screen. I’m not sure what makes her so believable, but I never doubted a word she said. She was just spot on with her readings that it always gave me the shivers. I found her especially captivating when they were dealing with an evil spirit. Whenever she said things like, “Oh, there is a dark, dark spirit here”, I always believed her and was only too glad I wasn’t in that house.

I truly hope that it’s not all a lie and they didn’t have any information to help them with their readings, but at the same time if it is real I’d be the first one to hide under a blanket because I’m a total chicken when it comes to spooky stuff like that. Even though it frightens me, I’d love to sit down with Chip or Lorraine to have a firsthand experience with them to finally have my answers settled.
I’d love to hear what you think—do you think mediums are real or is it totally fake?
~*~
In thanks for stopping by and chatting today, I’m offering up one ebook from my backlist (international). Leave your email address with your comment to be entered. Don’t forget to come find me on Facebook and Twitter. I love to chat!!

 
Ghosts harass and annoy Tess Jennings to save their souls. Sometimes she helps them. Other times she ignores them. But one ghost will give her no choice.
Kipp McGowen, a cop with the Memphis Police Department, will stop at nothing to gain her help, including using his ghostly charms to seduce her.
Tess must help solve the five year old cold case of Hannah Reid, because solving the case will save Kipp. But a bigger problem presents itself. Tess is falling in love with a ghost. Now she must decide. Keep Kipp forever or find the killer…
~*~
EXCERPT:
Copyright © STACEY KENNEDY, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
An icy wisp of air swept in behind me, causing my heel to twist as I stumbled. To the other pedestrians striding along the downtown Memphis street, the sensation would be brushed off as a cold breeze.
They were wrong. A spirit lingered here.
“Can you hear me?”
From the intrigue rolling in his voice, he hadn’t expected me to acknowledge him. Shit! I’d already given myself away. A mistake I’d rectify.
Without hesitation, I righted my stance and strode forward with purpose, forcing myself to remain deaf to the voice. If I ignored ghosts long enough, they moved on and searched out someone else who held the same irritating ability, whom I had yet to meet.
Much to my annoyance, the ghost stayed right on my heels and his presence remained strong behind me. The cold air at my back remained a contrast to the warm morning air in front of me. Every hair on my neck stood up and goose bumps pimpled a trail along my skin. If only I could rub them away, but I didn’t dare. Ignoring him would make him go away.
“You can hear me, can’t you?” the ghost asked again.
Spirits were typically harmless, but annoying. I’m dead, what’s going on, why am I a ghost—yada, yada, yada. I quickened my steps and made my way down Peabody Place in hopes he’d leave me alone.
“Wait.”
He sounded desperate, which meant a big headache for me. If I hadn’t worn my damn slingbacks, I would’ve tried to run and hide. But the three-inch Manolos and the tight, tailored gray skirt restrained my movements.
I passed Miss Polly’s Soul Food Café, and the delicious aroma of bacon and eggs drifted along the air. My empty stomach complained. My only thought after I woke had been caffeine. Now I wished I’d grabbed a muffin with my latté at Starbucks. With ten minutes to get to my desk, I couldn’t worry about such things.
My boss, Event Manager Dylan Cobb, would hand me my ass if I stepped into the office a minute late. Sadly, there’d never been a day I didn’t cater to his every need.
I approached Beale Street and sighed in relief, relishing the warmth surrounding me. Not only from the sun above—the spirit’s cold presence at my back had vanished. Pleased my dodge of him had worked, I took a sip of my energy in a cup and smiled. Coffee’s fantastic, the ghost is gone—life is good.
Another block passed under my heels before I reached the historical red-brick building. Randall Marketing, written in black block letters, decorated the striped green-and-white awning.
I opened the door to the office and strode in, greeted by a bubbly voice. “Good morning, Tess.”
“Mornin’.”
“Give me a moment here.” Doris shuffled paperwork around her desk, her auburn curls bouncing on her shoulders. The receptionist had always been messy, yet somehow organized. “There were a few messages on the voicemail for you.” She raised her head and held out the pink slips of paper. “A lovely day today, is it not?”
“Sure is.” So I lied. The ghost hadn’t kicked off my day on a high note. Not as if I’d tell her about my interaction with spirits. My ability to converse with spirits remained on a need-to-know basis, and as far as it concerned me, no one needed to know. I grabbed the messages from her hand. “Did your weekend treat you good?”
“I spent the entire weekend knee-deep in my garden.” Her cocoa-colored eyes lit up. “My best year ever, I’m hoping. You’ll have to come out and have a look-see.”
“I’d love to.” Doris treasured her gardens, so I tried to appear interested, even though my green thumb looked black.
Her smile brightened, but when the phone rang, she waved a goodbye and answered the call. “It’s another beautiful day here at Randall Marketing, how may I direct your call?”
Leaving her behind, I strode down the hall toward my office and sipped my coffee. The warmth slid down my throat and provided an immediate rush to my energy levels. At the third door on the right, I entered my bleak workspace with its pale-blue walls, closed the door behind me and approached the desk. I dropped down into the black leather chair and flipped through the messages. None were urgent enough to worry about now.
I powered up my computer, but a knock at the door had me glancing up. Before I got a word out, the door swished open and I cringed, fully aware of the looming trouble.
Caley, the officer manager and my best friend since the age of four, looked like a typical Barbie. Perfect skin, long flowing blonde hair and a body men drooled over. I might have been jealous of her perfection since I couldn’t pull off her looks even with a makeover—so maybe a little envious—but her appearance had always been a front. She was the devil in disguise.
She scowled, shutting the door behind her with a slam. “Do you mind explaining where you were all weekend?”
“At home.” I batted my lashes. “Why? Did you try to call me?”
She pointed her finger, narrowing her eyes at me. “Don’t you try that shit on me. I called you all weekend and your phone went straight to voicemail.”
“Hmm…” I pretended to ponder. “The battery must have died.” She had enough gall to just come over, but the little hint had been a subtle way of telling Caley to leave me alone.
“Liar.” She plopped down in the seat across from my desk. “Where were you? I wanted to go out.”
“Nowhere. Honestly, I vegged on the couch.”
Caley snorted. “You lead such an exciting life.”
My mouth parted to offer a snappy retort, but a cold wisp of air brushed across my skin, causing my lips to snap shut. Damn! I thought I’d got rid of him.
“Hello.” Caley snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Leave the aliens behind and return to Mother Earth.”
I blinked, trying to force my attention back to her, yet failing. The ghost knelt right beside Caley—not kneeling, of course; more like floating, since ghosts were never able to obtain physical contact with the world around them—and my focus held strong on him, unable to stop myself from ogling. He stared intently, with one crystal-blue eye, while the other was a chocolate color. His strong jaw, the muscles clenching along his cheeks, all spoke of power. But as he ran his hand through his untidy sandy-colored hair, his expression showed playfulness. His black tank top left his arms exposed and muscles upon muscles layered those arms.
“Anyways,” she said, dragging my gaze back to her. “I had to go out with Susanne because you left me high and dry.”
I laughed. Caley’s horny, twenty-year-old stepsister had the body that men chased after. “You did have the option to stay home, you know.”
Her eyes widened. “On a Saturday night?”
“Yeah, you know, get some popcorn, watch a movie and relax.”
She frowned. “If you don’t stop your grandma behavior, your va-jay-jay is going to shrivel up and die.”
The ghost chuckled.
His smooth laugh hit me like a cup of warm cocoa, causing my insides to melt. Nothing amused me. First off, Caley had been so wrong—maybe a little right—but I’d never admit to her accuracy aloud. Second, reacting in such a heated way to a ghost definitely didn’t hit my to-do list today.
“Excuse me.” I spoke not only to Caley, but also to the irritating ghost. “My va-jay-jay is just fine.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear you’ve still got some spunk.” She stood and placed her hands on her hips. “Because we’ve got a double date tonight.”
“A what?” Dear God!
She grinned from ear to ear. “Yes, my dearest Grammy, we’re going out.”
“With who?”
“Two guys I met on Saturday night. You’re coming with me, either willingly or unwillingly, so suck up your hesitations, babe, because saying no isn’t an option.”
“But it’s a Monday night.” Not saying a date didn’t sound like fun. A month had passed since my last attempt at dating—which failed miserably—but a man Caley chose while drunk? No thanks. My sex life might have been as dead as the sexy ghost in front of me, but I’d still search for a way out. “I have to work tomorrow.”
She wagged her finger in classic Caley fashion. “You’re a grandma.”
Most times, I respected her persistent personality. She never backed down, always dreamed big and went for the gold, but her grit hadn’t been all rays of sunshine. Her determination made her annoyingly tenacious. I had to agree or she’d never give up, and getting her out of my office sounded all too good. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”
“Oh, stop looking so pissy. We’ll have fun. Promise. I’ll come to your place at eight.” She opened the door, glanced over her shoulder and winked. “Leave the granny panties at home.”
~*~
Stacey Kennedy’s novels are lighthearted fantasy with heart squeezing, thigh-clenching romance, and even give a good chuckle every now and again. But within the stories you’ll find fast paced action, life threatening moments and a big bad villain that needs to be destroyed. Her urban fantasy/paranormal and erotic romance series have hit Amazon Kindle and All Romance Ebooks Bestseller lists. If she isn’t plugging away at her next novel, tending to her two little ones, she’s got her nose deep in a good book. She lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband.
Be sure to drop her a line at www.staceykennedy.com, she loves to hear from her readers.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Guest Post: Keta Diablo, Amber Scott, Stacey Kennedy & Elise Hepner w/Giveaway

Book Lovin' Bitches Blog Tour

KISSED FROM BEYOND


A Paranormal Erotic Romance

About Kissed From Beyond

This 'must read' anthology will take you to the mystical beyond and back with four erotica novellas from bestselling and award-winning authors:

-Keta Diablo

-Amber Scott

-Elise Hepner

-Stacey Kennedy



Can you handle the magic?


CRADLE OF DREAMS – Keta Diablo



With visions of battle still fresh in his mind, Roane Bradfield returns home to find the woman he loves betrothed to another. He corners Kendrick Moreland at Dowager Huggins’ Grand Ball and whisks her into the secluded library. One way or the other, he will know the reason the duplicitous beauty cut him from her life when she promised to wait forever.



Kendrick can’t believe her eyes when Roane suddenly appears at the ball. Has he truly risen from the dead? Amid wagging tongues and hushed murmurs, the fantasy of her every dream whisks her from the ballroom. And the expression on his face is anything but loving. Revenge, danger and powerful love collide in the Cradle of Dreams.



Follow Keta's Haunt & sign up for her newsletter. She gives 3 books away every time it goes out. http://www.ketadiablo.com

About Keta:

Keta Diablo lives in the Midwest part of the country on six acres of woodland. When she isn’t writing or gardening, she loves to commune with nature. Keta is a multi-published author in both erotic romance and gay fiction. Her latest paranormal novel Where The Rain Is Made has been nominated for a Bookie Award by Authors After Dark in the Best e-novel category. In addition, Keta’s books have received numerous Top Pick, Book of the Month, and Recommended Reads awards from the top professional review sites.

Excerpt from Cradle of Dreams:

By all that was holy, Roane Bradfield appeared within Kendrick’s line of vision. Her Roane Bradfield. Dear God, it wasn’t possible, couldn’t be him. Her stomach fell, and the room spun. How she had mourned his death, cried a million tears when his name appeared in the Savannah Republican—Roane Bradfield, Killed in Action, Battle of Petersburg. At the time, the words had blurred on the page and waves of grief brought her to her knees.



It had taken her weeks to drag herself from bed every morning, months to come to terms with his death. Had she ever really come to terms with it or had she merely put one foot in front of the other and stumbled through life a phantom specter? She knew only one thing at the time—if she lived to be one hundred she would never again love a man as she had loved Roane Bradfield.



Beside her, Pitt’s back stiffened, and below her trembling hand his arm tensed. So many times, she had imagined Roane Bradfield cutting through the masses toward her, but this was no illusion. Beneath the bright chandelier, his midnight hair glistened, and even from this distance, a palpable hunger burned in his eyes. Something else burned too . . . anger.



The crowd parted and onward he came, all sinewy muscle and dark beauty—broad shoulders, narrow waist and long, muscled legs. And depthless ebony eyes. She should have known someone as vibrant and alive as Roane couldn’t die. Beneath her gown, her legs gave way and every joint in her body went boneless.



“Good, God, look who’s risen from the dead?” her fiancé said.



“Pitt, please, how can you say such a thing?” Kendick’s knees shook and she felt faint. She didn’t have the facts, but truly, Roane had risen from the dead. For a flash of a second, her heart overflowed with joy, and then she saw the look on her former love’s face. Unadulterated vengeance. He came to settle a score.



Roane stood before them, his bronzed hand reaching for hers. “Kendrick, lovely to see you again, darling.”



Sparks flared and a jolt of lightning pedaled through her veins when he brought her fingers to his lips. “Roane . . . we-we heard you were―”



“Yes, so the Dowager informs me. You thought me dead. Well, you can see I’m here in the flesh, and quite alive.”



“See here, Bradfield,” Pitt said, his voice cracking amid the undercurrents. “Kendrick is betrothed to me now. I hardly think you should address her as darling or any other endearment.”



Roane paused, his rakish gaze assessing her head to toe before he turned to Pitt. “Be a good chap, Fleming, and refresh my drink.”



With Roane’s fluted glass touching the fabric of Pitt’s waistband, her betrothed floundered for words. “I don’t believe I should abandon my fiancé in light of the―”



Roane visibly blanched at the word fiancé. “I assure you, Pitt,” he replied, his tone glacial, “Miss Moreland is in no danger while an enormous crowd looks on. In any event, I believe we have something to discuss, do we not, Kendrick?”



Roane knew her better than she knew herself. Her initial joy at seeing the decadent man gave way to rage. Heat traveled the length of her neck and scalded her cheeks. How he enjoyed making her blush . . . and cringe. She had never been able to hide her true feelings from him. By his arrogant smirk, he knew he still held the power to decipher them.



God curse the man. Only Roane Bradfield would dramatize his sudden return to life in front of an assembly of onlookers. The last thing she expected to encounter tonight was Roane in the flesh, and yet elation and an undeniable series of shivers coursed through her.



And fear.



Dear Lord, help her. The man would make her regret her actions during his absence. Roane would never believe she thought him dead, would never accept her admission she agreed to marry Pitt only when everyone in Savannah, including her, thought him lost forever. The cock-sure man would remain calm and collective while she stumbled with ineffectual explanations. If only he would stop looking at her as if he could see through her gown.



Her hand went rigid in his and then she withdrew it. Again, he studied her intently, no doubt heard the wheels of panic and terror grinding in her head. Read this, Roane Bradfield. I long to wipe that ersatz grin from your face; tear your eyes out for putting me through hell.



Silence filled the crowded room; all eyes were upon them. Within five minutes of her arrival, he had cornered her like a hapless hare. Unless she desired a scene, she would have to agree to speak with him. With a thin smile, she turned to her fiancé. “Go ahead, Pitt. Whatever Roane has to say won’t take long.”



* * *

‘TIL WE MEET AGAIN – Stacey Kennedy



Ethan Thomas has spent years alone, forever trapped between worlds. Once a soldier in the Civil War, he’s now a ghost bound to a chaise lounge that once belonged to him. He’s spent centuries lingering in Savannah, Georgia, waiting to be saved…



Cassandra Cole is an interior designer hired to restore an old Victorian home. As she begins to furnish the home, strange happenings erupt around her. She suspects the house is haunted. Determined to find out, Cassie will set out to discover who the ghost is, why she feels a connection to him, and what she has to do to free him. The answers will surprise her in ways she couldn’t have imagined.



Follow Stacey’s web site:

http://www.staceykennedy.com


About Stacey:

Stacey Kennedy is an avid lover of the paranormal romance, urban fantasy and erotic romance genres. If she isn’t plugging away at her next novel, tending to her two little ones, she’s got her nose deep in a good book. She lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband. Be sure to drop her a line at www. staceykennedy.com, she loves to hear from her readers.


Excerpt from ‘Til We Meet Again:

For so many years, isolated days and nights, Ethan had been stuck in purgatory. He’d been shuffled from home to home, living among people who were at first strangers, but became constant companions over time. For close to ten years now he’d called Twilight Antiques in Savannah, Georgia, his home.

The shopkeeper, Mrs. Higgins, finished her Sunday morning routine of putting the new antiques out she obtained at auction. He’d never grown attached to her, because she had no connection to him. In her seventies, wrinkles canvassed her skin and Ethan had watched them grow deeper throughout the years. Beneath the sign of her age, soft pale blue eyes still held the beauty of a warm woman. Her silver hair, cut prim and proper, sat in tight curls atop her head, like women of her age nowadays. She might be elderly, however, she still took pride in her appearance.

The antiques held monetary value. To Mrs. Higgins, they were much more than that—a piece of history to be cherished.

Like him.

Not an emotional attachment, a physical one. He couldn’t quite explain the reason his soul never crossed over after he died in the Civil War. Instead, he became bound to a chaise lounge he’d favored in the years he walked the earth. Without anyone to ask how or why, his life―or death―had become timeless.

He’d grown bored of watching decades ago.

The front door to the store chimed, drawing Ethan away from his thoughts as he lingered on the chaise. He sighed. Another customer to walk through the store and not give a second look at the chair he once loved, and still did.

“Hello there,” Mrs. Higgins said, greeting the woman.

“Hi,” a small, sweet voice responded in a tone Ethan found charming.

In all his time at the shop, he’d yet to see anyone walk through those doors who caught his eye. On the rare occasions a younger woman came into the store, none though, appealed to him on a physical level.

If he stood, he’d tower over her delicate frame. Her long, chocolate brown hair stood out against her pale skin, except for the pinkish tinge on her cheeks and baby blue eyes that held a note of sweetness.

He might be a ghost, nevertheless, a man still resided in his soul, and she, a woman to behold. Her beauty mesmerized him.

“How can I help you, my dear?” Mrs. Higgins asked in a rich southern accent.

“Have you heard of the Landsby home?” the woman asked.

Ethan could tell her heritage didn’t come from Savannah. She sounded American, yet not from around these parts.

“Yes, dear, are you the new owner?”

The woman shook her head. “No, Mrs. Nash is the owner. I’m the interior designer she hired.”

“Oh, so you’re here to furnish the house?”

The woman nodded. “I’m not from around here—”

“Where are you from, dear?” Mrs. Higgins interrupted.

“New York.” The woman smiled. “And the name is Cassandra Cole―Cassie.”

Ethan studied Cassie. All the dear comments seemed to displease her. What bothered her so? She fascinated him and he hadn’t been interested in anything or anyone for some time. How intriguing.

“Well, Miss Cassie,” Mrs. Higgins went on. “What can I help you with today?”

Cassie glanced around the store before meeting Mrs. Higgins gaze again. “Mrs. Nash decided the theme for the Landsby house should reflect its history. She wants to restore the home to its original condition.”

“A wise decision,” Mrs. Higgins agreed.

“So. . . .” Cassie looked around at the store. “I have some shopping to do.” She glanced back to Mrs. Higgins. “Do you have―or know of―a rental truck for hire to deliver what I purchase here today?”

“Mr. Pitts does deliveries for me. I’ll call him now and see he comes by with the truck soon to help you.”

Cassie smiled. “Thank you.”

She strode around the store, looking at the items spread out, and Ethan stayed with her. In fact, he drew in close and stood mere inches from Cassie watching a deep shudder run through her. “You’ve got a draft in here,” she called out to Mrs. Higgins.

Busy talking on the phone, Mrs. Higgins didn’t respond.

Ethan leaned away from Cassie to let the warmth wash over her body again, yet continued to study her. She appeared so focused, so determined, and so adorable.

His cold soul lit up with a heat he’d long yearned for.







* * *

ONE RUB MORE – Elise Hepner



Flynn has been cursed for over a century for a social slight he never committed. A voodoo priestess hexed him and forced him into a teapot where he could only be summoned by the rub of a woman’s palm. Once free, he grants these women three sexual favors—and cuts off his own emotions in the process. Unable to break free from an invisible cage of lust and sex to fall in love again, he’s resigned to being a sex object and nothing more.



Helena has been house sitting far, far away from her complicated past in England— including her former childhood sweetheart, who wasn’t satisfied when Helena didn’t want to be barefoot and pregnant. She’s resigned to leave behind the complications of men and sex. She hopes that logic will win out over her unreliable emotions—but she’s put to the test when she accidentally summons Flynn from his teapot prison.



Follow Elise’s web site: http://celise91writer.blogspot.com



About Elise:

Elise Hepner lives in MD with her spastic cat, two bouncy ferrets, and her always- entertaining, programmer husband. She’s been writing erotica for over five years and just recently started her foray into erotic romance. She’s been previously published with Excessica, Cleis Press, and has a new release coming soon from Ellora’s Cave. If you’d like to learn more or explore her backlist please visit her web site.



Excerpt From One Rub More:

He existed only in dreams. A part of her mind fought to break free from this sensual playground. Deep beneath the aching need, she needed to leave. But his touch breathed new life into her body. His cock pressed between her legs, a taunt that made her writhe. No denying there was some reality here. Somewhere between fantasy and Pat's kitchen, this man of many faces swept her hair away from her cheek and drew his tongue lightly from her ear to collarbone. A path sparked across her nerve endings.

She begged, unashamed, for more of him.

He never spoke words. Only small, unintelligible noises that broke across her skin and elicited shivers. He didn’t need to say anything, because his meaning was traced lazily with his fingers over her body. He played out every syllable. Until she tightened, wet and alive, beneath the slow burn of his skin that marked her like a brand. Nothing made sense. Just when she thought she had grabbed a hold of something, it floated away with a rasp of his tongue or the brush of his hand. Magic.

Pleasure moved inside her and strained outward as if her flesh was just a barrier to bypass. Desire reached her toes and shot upward from her spine. An electric shock that made her inner walls clench hard. An orgasm fought its way to the surface. No, not ready. It wasn’t time and he wasn’t buried deep where she wanted him. Not enough contact to warrant such a reaction.

A flush scalded her cheeks and chest because he coaxed her flesh to do his will as he shifted above her body. Normally, it had been hard to climax. Always fighting with her toes curled against the rough lip of pleasure and there was no helpful push that would send her pin-wheeling through time and space. Choice had been taken out of the equation. In this world, she imagined, everything must be easier.

Until the light brush of his mouth on her nipple was the final straw. All pretenses of control shattered as she came. Her head dipped back and she arched tight against his strength. Vaguely aware of a faraway pain in the back of her head as he anchored her to the pleasure and she screamed out her ragged need.

Then it was gone. As if a switch had been flipped behind her eyes, leaving behind a painful pulse. How long had she been out? Must have been hours.

When she forced her eyes to focus on the digital stove clock, it had been mere minutes. By the sharp ache in the back of her head, she knew she was alive. But as her eyes adjusted to the bright bars of sunshine across her body, she pried her wobbly frame from the kitchen floor, she came to the conclusion she was, well, relaxed on her kitchen floor. When was the last time she had lost this tension she carried around like a backpack? This was new and different.

Though her hands still shook, the sensation sprang from the aftershocks of pleasure more than fear that skittered across her brain only to hide again. She shook her head and swallowed past the parchment paper taste on her tongue. What the hell just happened? And why wasn’t she as startled about it as she should be given the circumstances?

Her limbs ached as if they'd been run over by a truck carrying blocks of cement. She moved her fingers across the back of her head, relieved only to find a large knot and no blood. So it had happened. Interesting. Without having to process, her mind sunk into logical mode. Answers sprang to the top of her mind as if she’d found a leak. All her repressed guilt had led her to a heady manifestation of fantasy. She had obviously run away with the idea of sex and had become lost in her need for release until she had masturbated on the floor.

But that didn’t explain the lilac smoke filling most of the room. Or the teapot. Oh God, the teapot. There was no way she’d imagined that. With renewed purpose, she hauled her ass off the kitchen floor despite the persistent groans of her body and glanced around for the cursed hunk of metal. Mrs. Higgins must have known it was special. But how could a sweet, little old woman have experiences with that kind of special? Helena let a shudder fall down her back.

Over in the corner, she spotted the offender's silver surface spinning on its side. And a man—a very sexy man. Jesus Christ! She nearly jumped out of her skin. A scream clutched at her stomach and tried to pry its way out of her lips. She had lost it. When her lower back hit the counter and there was nowhere left to go, she squared her shoulders and crossed her arms. He couldn't have just materialized in the kitchen. Things like that didn't happen outside of daytime television shows and movies. How hard did she hit her head? Hard enough to see things—maybe. If she were truly seeing things, there was one way to make this delusion go away. No backing down from it. He would go away if she stayed firm. There was nothing to be afraid of because a trick of the mind couldn’t hurt her or even touch her.



Which is when her delusion spoke.



* * *

A LOVE SOUL DEEP – Amber Scott

Blurb:

If only Sara had known no man would ever make her feel like Crew did, she would have let him love her. A regret that can never be undone. His death haunts her dreams and her wishful thinking only reminds her of everything she has lost.



Years later, a visit to an antique store in sultry Savannah changes everything and makes her deepest wish come true. Her beloved returns to her. Her every fantasy gets the chance to be fulfilled. But she wants more than one night. She wants a lifetime and wonders what magic will let her keep A Love Soul Deep.



Follow Amber’s web site: http://amberscottbooks.com



About Amber:

In between naptimes and dishes, Amber Scott escapes into her characters’ fates, lusts and transformations. She lives in Arizona with her husband and two children. She often burns dinner, is addicted to chocolate and still believes in happily ever after.



Short Excerpt from A Love Soul Deep:

My tongue thickened in my mouth. I jerked my gaze to where the Crew-clone stood. He bee-lined for my table. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He even walked like Crew, loose hipped, long strides. A thud on the table made me realize I’d been clutching the locket and it had slipped from my fist. Probably because my hands were drenched in sweat.

Crew-clone sat down.

“Hi,” he said.

The music thumped around us but I had no problem hearing the velvety sound of his deep voice. A thousand moments from the past pinged through my head.

“Hi.” I spoke despite the dryness of my mouth.

His gaze fell to the table. To the locket. He reached it before my hand could move to retrieve it. I wanted to hide it. Everything around us seemed suspended as he drew the locket closer, pulling my neck as the chain strained. I leaned in, speechless, my mind a jumble of confusion and hope.

He popped the gold frame open. His large rough hands made the locket seem all the more delicate. Seeing the pictures inside, he gave a half-chuckle.

“She looks like you.”

I felt my eyes widen. “He looks a bit like you.”

My voice sounded far away.

He closed the frame, his eyebrows drawing together. “If we were in a bar somewhere and had never met, that would be the perfect line, don’t you think?”

I laugh-gasped. “Uh, yeah. That would be convenient. A bar. Strangers. Old photos.” My tension eased by a few degrees seeing the humor glinting in his eyes.

Still a tease. No! Just a clone and a lot of coincidence. Moira would have seen the resemblance if there was any. She’d have peed herself. Not just because Crew was dead, or because my heart was still strung so tightly to him, but because she believed in a lot of witchy woo-woo shit.

“Good thing we’ve already met,” he said. A chill slid under my skin. “Or this might get awkward.”

“Awkward? You and me?” I teased back, loving the feel of flirting again. “Never that.”

* * *

Contest Information: Two books will be given away at every blog stop. In order for your followers to be eligible, they must leave a comment below and tell us why they like the paranormal or erotic romance genre with an email address. Winners to be selected by the owner of the blog approximately three days after their final day of posting and Keta – ketadiablo@yahoo.com names and e-mail addresses of your winners. Listed below are the books offered for the contest. Books will be selected at random and sent to the winners by the authors.


Keta Diablo’s Give-away – Decadent Deceptions, an erotic romance historical. Finalist in the prestigious Molly Contest, erotic romance category. Best-seller on Amazon Kindle. This book contains graphic sex and voyeurism. More about Decadent Deceptions here: http://amzn.to/hksd1h



The Little Plaid Skirt Saga Volume 1 & 2Elise Hepner’s Give-away – The Little Plaid Skirt Saga 1 & 2.

Blurb: Naomi gets her high from crowd surfing in her little plaid skirt. She’s got voyeuristic tendencies and with a mosh pit full of people there are infinite sexual possibilities. She’s only got to look to the person next to her for a slamming good time in the sack and out of it.


Alissa is a cougar with a sex addiction and a penchant for stealing her daughter’s clothes. When she comes across a freebie catalogue full of her favorite kind of dress up, she just can’t help herself. Out comes the credit cards and in she goes to the nearest single’s bar. It’s time to see what today’s catch of the day is.


In this anthology all it takes is a little scrap of fabric to rule the world. When playing dress-up who doesn’t want to take over the world?

Warnings: This title contain m/f/f sex, voyeurism, f/f sex, roleplaying, random sexual partners, female masturbation, road head, and bad parenting.

Excerpt:

http://excessica.com/store/catalog/product_info.php?products_id=471&osCsid=a62f7ac0e9bd42fc47e3066ba8af8040


Stolen Dreams (The Lingering Spirit)Stacey Kennedy’s Give-away- STOLEN DREAMS - The Lingering Spirit Book One

Tess Jennings has the ability to see and talk to spirits. On a daily basis, they harass and annoy her to save their souls. Sometimes she helps, other times she ignores them, but one ghost will give her no choice. Kipp McGowan, a cop with the Memphis Police Department, uses his ghostly charms to gain her attention and forces her to expose herself to his partner.


As she’s pulled into the five year old cold case of Hannah Reid she wants no part of, she finds herself in more than one precarious situation. But that’s the least of her worries―Tess begins to have a serious problem on her hands. Kipp might be dead, but he’s drop-dead gorgeous and she’s beginning to forget that he’s a ghost.



Murder and corruption has brought Tess and Kipp together. But as her feelings for Kipp deepen, she suspects she just signed herself up for a one-way ticket to the nut house, and can only hope, straitjackets come in a size four.

Love Lust (A Vegas Succubus Novella)
Excerpt - http://www.staceykennedy.com/stolen-dreams-excerpt/





Buy link - http://www.staceykennedy.com/books/the-lingering-spirit-series/stolen-dreams/


Amber Scott’s Give-away- Love Lust, ebook format, a paranormal erotica novella. 5 cups-Coffee Time Romance, “Fiercely addictive.”- Jessica Subject, Mark of the Stars. http://ow.ly/4oK97



 
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