Sunday, August 31, 2014

Experience "Sculptor's Desire" and the Artist's Touch (only 99 cents!) by Kerry Adrienne

Sculptor’s Desire by Kerry Adrienne releases August 27! To celebrate the release, Artist’s Touch (book one in the series) will be on sale for 99 cents from August 25-31.

Rocco Lazzaro is on a mission to find the perfect male body to sculpt. His inability to find “the one” has affected his creativity and he’s frustrated by his failure. With a Guild charity auction coming up, he’s expected to provide high quality sculptures, but the pieces he creates feel soulless.

When Devin, a yoga instructor, approaches him and offers to help, Rocco can’t quit thinking about the red-hot ginger. Devin’s New Age beliefs push Rocco away—he can’t deal with reality, much less mysticism. No auras and rainbows for Rocco—just stone and chisel and hammer.

But Devin is persistent. He knows he’s supposed to help Rocco find his muse—and he’ll stop at nothing to show him that the line between art and skin is very thin and a true muse can provide inspiration in many ways.

This story contains hot, sexy artistic scenes of M/M interaction as our sculptor goes hands on in more ways than one.

A Romantica® gay erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
I'd love for you to add it to your TBR pile on Goodreads

By reading any farther, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.

Copyright © KERRY ADRIENNE, 2014
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Strawberry Fields was a prime tourist spot. Too bad today’s mob held few specimens worthy of a glance, much less a stare. I’d think the simple math odds would warrant at least a couple prospects. Add in summer shorts, and there should be at least a good bulge or two…

Rocco glanced at the stack of fliers—about fifty of them left. He’d put up as many papers as he could around the park over the last hour. Who was he kidding? After years of searching, he might as well give up on finding the ideal male. He set the fan on the bench and shoved the stack of fliers into the front pocket of his backpack and zipped it up.

He’d held several open calls with no luck. Something inside him pushed him to keep looking, keep trying, no matter how many times he failed. The same something kept him awake at night and tore apart his thoughts during the day. He’d find what he was looking for and he wouldn’t stop until he did, no matter what it took. It didn’t matter if it cost him his friends, his guildmates, his sanity. That was art, wasn’t it?

“May I sit here?”

The soft, lilting voice wove through Rocco’s thoughts and he paused. He looked up and his breath caught in his throat when he saw where the voice originated. Broad shoulders and a flat abdomen encased in a perfectly tight white T-shirt. Tall, but not overly so. Blue jean shorts, snug. Red cropped hair that glistened gold at the tips and fell over in a lock of bangs. Rocco gazed from top to bottom and licked his dry lips.

Red, white, blue, and all American.

“May I?” the man repeated.

“Sure.” Rocco fumbled with his pack and slid over to make room on the wooden park bench, pushing his folded fan behind him and out of the way so the stranger could sit down.

“Thanks,” the man said, dropping onto the bench.

No, thank you. But not so close. The vibrations of the man sitting raced through the wood of the bench into wood between Rocco’s legs. He swallowed hard, pushing back the anxiety. “No problem,” he said, half-whispering. He peeked then gazed down again. Finally, someone worth looking at. Only the man was so freaking near, Rocco felt as if he could feel the heat emanating from the man’s hotness.

Too close. No comfort.

The man scooted back on the bench and stretched out his legs. “Long day. I’m exhausted. Didn’t expect there to still be such a crowd here this time of day.” He blew out a long breath and closed his eyes.

Despite the heat, a shiver raced through Rocco and he eyed the fluid line of the man’s form. If he’d had a sketchpad, he’d do a quick gesture drawing of the long stroke of torso and limbs.

Not knowing what to say, Rocco turned away. A group of noisy teens descended on the mosaic like a swarm of bees, laughing and shouting and taking photos of themselves in stupid poses. Rocco blinked away the distraction and looked back to the man sitting beside him.

Not bad. “Yeah.” Hell, not bad at all. “It’s crowded.” He squeezed his thighs together to control his body’s reaction. Why couldn’t the man have chosen to sit on the other side of the path where Rocco could observe without having to talk?

“Such a loud crowd, at that.” The man opened his eyes and peered at the teen spectacle then shook his head. “They need to relax. Chill. You’d think they’d never been outside before.”

Rocco nodded and followed his gaze. A teen had picked up one of the flowers from the medallion and was tossing it into the air and catching it. “Tourists. New York can’t live with them, or without them.”

“Tourist?” The man asked. “Aren’t you? I can’t place that accent, so I assumed you were. Where are you from?”

“Italy.” Rocco sat up straight, trying to not be obvious in staring at the man’s muscular legs. He must be some kind of athlete. Was this man a candidate or had the hour of staring at subpar specimens clouded Rocco’s judgment? “Well, born in Italy, but I’ve lived in the city for several years. Many, actually. I consider myself a New Yorker now.”

“Ah, so Italian with some city dialect. Not a tourist. What’s your name?”

Rocco flipped his sunglasses up onto his head. “Rocco Lazzaro. Not a tourist.” He forced a smile. Meeting new people in person wasn’t something he was used to doing.

“But very Italian, I see. Nice to meet you, Rocco.” The man held his hand out. “I’m Devin Johansson. Also not a tourist. I live on the East Side.”

Rocco took Devin’s hand in his own and shook it firmly, aware that his own hand was clammy with anxiety. “Good to meet you too, Devin.”

Devin clamped down on Rocco’s fingers and held on. “Oh. You have working hands,” he whispered. He pulled Rocco’s hand closer and rubbed Rocco’s palm with long, soft fingers. “And your aura shows great creativity.” He looked up. “What is it you do?”

The teens moved on down the park path, giggling and talking loudly as they went. Rocco glanced over at them, trying to still the shudder that played along his arm as Devin rubbed his hand. A calm, warm feeling flowed up through his arm and into his chest. Even in the summer heat, the warmth felt good. Too good. Wait, what did he say? What the hell?

“My what? My aura?” Rocco yanked his hand away, immediately aware of the loss of warmth. Great. The first good-looking guy he’d met this week was a fruit loop New-Ager.

Sign up for my no-spam newsletter by the end of August to be entered to win a $50 Amazon gift card: Blog/newsletter form

About the Author:
Kerry writes about love in its many forms, and enjoys exploring the dynamics of relationships and the quandaries people get themselves into. She lives in suburbia, but is making plans to escape to the ocean and NYC, as both places hold a piece of her heart.
You can connect with Kerry here:

You can purchase Sculptor’s Desire here:

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Was #Sherlock #Holmes always popular? (@MFRW_ORG #MFRWAuthor #erotica #Victorianerotica)

Why do people love Holmes? 

I will readily admit that I am a Sherlock Holmes fan. No, a fanatic.

Taken the Goodreads quiz on Holmes? Try it—I got 100% (grinning). I thought it was (ahem) elementary.

But why do people love Holmes? 

The character wasn’t initially popular. According to Wikipedia, A Study in Scarlet and The Sign of the Four (its first title) didn’t sell well. The short stories, first
published by The Strand magazine, were the works that ignited the public’s imagination. The first, A Scandal in Bohemia, was published in 1891.

I know why I love Holmes—I’m a sapiensexual. I’m turned on by brains. I’m literally repelled by men who mix up well and good or who don’t hold their cutlery correctly. (A great face, cute smile and buffed bod are also important, along with a sweet soul).

These days, we love hot heroes with brains as well as flaws. Sherlock is complex. He has a lightning-fast wit but the emotional I.Q. of a boulder. He’s interesting. The reigning Holmes, BBC’s Sherlock, describes himself as a “high-functioning sociopath.” I’d add, with a touch of Asperger’s.

Upon publication, however, Sherlock appeared in a very different world.

In 1888, a serial killer started a rampage in an area of London still called Whitechapel. We do not know the number of murders committed by Jack the Ripper. Five brutal killings are apparently linked, but as many as six more could have been the work of the same slayer.

The number, frequency, and brutality of the homicides terrorized London even after they ended in 1891. Unhappy with official efforts to catch the killer, citizens formed the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee and walked the streets searching for suspects.  Police received hundreds of letters purporting to contain leads, most of which were useless. Though serial killers have appeared throughout human history, the Ripper was the first to ignite a media frenzy (Wikipedia).

People cling to certainty in an uncertain world. To a city gripped by dread, the cool, calm, logical Holmes, a detective who unerringly solved every case, was an inspirational hero bringing comfort in a frightening world.

My version of Holmes, from Sherlock’s Scandal, isn’t so cool, calm, and logical. Here’s a spanky snippet to pique your interest:

A quick thrust and he was embedded in my pussey, strong hands clasping my aching rear, holding me in place as he plowed. The spanking began again and I screamed as I peaked, waves of pleasure engulfing me. My knees buckled and I sprawled limply on the bed.

But Sherlock was nowhere near a climax. I could feel his hard cock, undiminished in size, pumping steadily in and out. A slight squishy sound accompanied his thrusts, for I was very open, almost loose, wetter than I had ever been except in a bath.

He leaned over me and I felt his nearness, his heat as he whispered in my ear, “My dear, do you mind if I…if I try a tighter place?”

All Romance Ebooks has the best price for this short story—here’s a link:

Hope you enjoy it! I truly loved writing it.

This is a blog hop! Find other talented authors' work at

Friday, August 29, 2014

Cook With Fire: Lisabet Sarai's Ingredients of Bliss

One sexy French chef. One kinky American TV producer. One ambitious Chinese gal who thinks she wants them both. The ingredients of bliss? Or a recipe for disaster?

Here's what Lisabet had to say about the genesis of this tasty tale:

Normandy home--photo by author
In April of 2013, my husband and I were fortunate enough to enjoy a two and a half week vacation in France. We traveled by train, in a broad circle that took us through much of the country. Starting in Paris, we visited historic Lyons, Annecy in the French Alps, Chamonix, lively Marseille, glorious Avignon, Carcassonne with its Crusader-era fortress, cosmopolitan Bordeaux, and medieval Normandy, before returning to Paris for several days. This incredible journey served as partial inspiration for my new novel The Ingredients of Bliss.

In this contemporary BDSM ménage, Mei Lee “Emily” Wong, an accomplished cook from Hong Kong, and her boss, the culinary legend Etienne Duvalier, are sent to France by the Toutes Les Saveurs network to shoot a series of shows on location, featuring regional cuisine and tourist highlights. Emily's master, producer Harry Sanborne, is also part of the entourage. Emily, Etienne and Harry retrace my steps, from Paris to Lyons to Marseille. In that gritty seaside melting pot, the story diverges from my itinerary, as a criminal gang kidnaps Harry and Etienne in a case of mistaken identity. (However, I did manage to include some scenes in Nice, which I visited on a previous trip to France.) 

My stories always have a strong sense of place, and this one is no exception. Some authors deliberately set their tales in nameless cities – so as not to distract from the unfolding relationships, one friend told me. Of course every writer is different, but for me, the sights, sounds, smells and tastes surrounding my characters are important determinants of their thoughts and moods. Given that both Emily and Etienne are chefs, one can hardly imagine a more appropriate setting. Meanwhile, my recent experiences there made it easy for me to conjure vivid sensual impressions.

Magnificent France forms the backdrop for this tale of love, sex, danger and deliverance. If you enjoy travel tales, that's just one more reason to get yourself a copy of this lusty and transgressive romance.

Here's a spicy excerpt Lisabet cooked up to sharpen your appetite:

Though I was alone, I couldn’t help blushing at the sight of the massive dildo. Fashioned of jet black silicon, it was nine inches long and a full two inches in diameter. Harry had insisted I buy it. He’d stood laughing in the background at the adult store while I’d stuttered and fumbled with my credit card, unable to meet the clerk’s eyes.

“It will never fit,” I’d protested, after I’d obeyed his order.

We’d strolled arm in arm down Market Street, my cheeks still hot with embarrassment. I’d felt as though every passerby knew what I carried in the plain brown paper bag.

“Oh, you’re wrong, love. It will fit perfectly—not just in your pussy, but in your ass too.”

He was right of course. If I was sufficiently aroused—and I was always that way, around Harry—it slid right in. The first time he’d commanded me to fuck myself with the obscene object, I’d had one of the most intense orgasms in my life. He hadn’t inserted it into my anus yet—nor forced me to bugger myself—but I knew he would eventually.

How would that feel? My rear hole tightened at the mere thought of such an invasion.

Stretched out on the bed again, I feathered my hands over my bare breasts, across my belly and down to my cunt. The lips were slick and swollen under my fingertips. Spreading them with my left hand, I rubbed the toy over my inner folds, gathering wetness. My clit screamed for attention, but I held off, as I knew Harry would, building the tension. Instead, I eased the first inch or so of the artificial cock into my channel, pretending it was Harry’s cock.

As always, going farther felt impossible. The silicone rod was too big, too hard. My poor, tight pussy could never accommodate such a bulk. Pain flickered through the haze of my arousal as my flesh protested. “I can’t,” I moaned out loud.

Of course you can. You will. For me.

The Ingredients of Bliss By Lisabet Sarai
Contemporary BDSM ménage
Totally Bound, 2014

Get your copy today! 

The special VIP edition of The Ingredients of Bliss is now available from Totally Bound. This version contains a sizzling bonus chapter not available from other retailers. Totally Bound has the most advanced book selling site of any independent publisher on the web, with new One-Click ordering and direct delivery to all e-reader platforms.

Blog Tour Prizes

First prize: $30 gift certificate to Sur La Table (
Second prize: $20 gift certificate to Whole Foods Market (
Third prize: Three-pack of ebooks from my back list, including a copy of Her Secret Ingredient, the prequel to The Ingredients of Bliss.

Recipes from an International Kitchen, to everyone who leaves a comment. AND I have a bonus $10 Totally Bound gift certificate for the tour host who gets the most reader comments.
I'll also be giving a PDF copy of my own original cookbook,

To enter, simply leave a comment that includes your email address. You can enter once for each spot in the tour. For the full tour schedule, go to:

About the Author

I started both writing and cooking at an early age, and I've continued to indulge both passions as I've matured. Usually I'm an improvisational cook; I'm not all that fond of following recipes, and when I do, I almost always introduce my own variations. My philosophy tends to be the more spice, the better.

You could say the same about my writing. Since the release of my debut novel Raw Silk in 1999, I've published lots of erotica and erotic romance in almost every sub-genre– more than fifty single author titles, plus dozens of short stories in various erotic anthologies, including the Lambda winner Where the Girls Are and the IPPIE Best Erotic Book of 2011, Carnal Machines. My gay scifi erotic romance Quarantine won a Rainbow Awards 2012 Honorable Mention.

I have more degrees than anyone would ever need, from prestigious educational institutions who would no doubt be deeply embarrassed by my chosen genre. Widely traveled but still with a long bucket list of places to go, I currently live in Southeast Asia with my indulgent husband and two exceptional felines, where I pursue an alternative career that is completely unrelated to my creative writing.

Thursday, August 28, 2014

Satisfaction above and beyond...WINE SERVICE by Zenobia Renquist

She offers satisfaction above and beyond what is requested.

Lexie's job as a housekeeper at a five-star hotel doesn't normally include the unique and risqué form of room service that important hotel guest Mr. Malena has requested, nor the generous tip he's offered. Lexie can't resist, and what should have been a one-time thing turns into an introduction into the sensual world of customer satisfaction. She finds much enjoyment in her "work," but is it worth risking her job?

She looked down at the pearls dangling from her nipples. She couldn’t see it, but she could feel a good amount of the pearl rope hanging between her legs. The full strand wasn’t inside her after all. She didn’t want to see the outfit that would show any of it off. She shook her head. “No.”

“You haven’t heard the whole deal.” Mr. Dani reached into his bag again and produced a pile of fringe, or that was what it resembled. “This is a mask. It’ll hide your face.” He showed her the back. “It’s also a blindfold. Malena said how you like not seeing the people admiring you. With that in mind, I got this for the occasion.”

She took the mask when he handed it to her. It was a sleep mask with a thick curtain of fringe. She held it up to her face. Complete blackout. She wouldn’t be able to see a thing. Lifting it up, she turned to the mirror. The fringe blocked her view, which meant she couldn’t be seen under it.

She lowered it and turned back to Mr. Dani. “I’m listening.”

He smiled. “It’s simple. We take the elevator down to the lobby. I lead you on a circuit around the room, and then we come back up.”

“That’s it.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “I might want to cop a feel when no one is looking, but you should expect something like that.”

She should and she did. She had no doubt Mr. Dani would take full advantage of whatever skimpy outfit he planned to put her in to pull off this scenario. But she couldn’t deny how much the idea thrilled her. The mask would hide her face. The blindfold would keep her from seeing the people react so she wouldn’t get self-conscious and chicken out. The blindfold also meant she would be at Mr. 
Dani’s mercy so far as getting around, unless she wanted to chance taking the mask off.

Lexie looked from Mr. Malena to Mr. Dani. Both men watched her and waited. No bribing. No trying to talk her into it. It was her choice. “Okay.”

Author Bio:
Zenobia Renquist is an Air Force brat turned Air Force wife. She and her husband are owned by two demanding cats of the long-haired persuasion. Born in Europe and currently stationed in Hawaii, Zenobia has been traveling all her life. "Where are you from?" is not a question she likes to be asked but will usually answer Virginia, because it's the one place that feels like home.

Zenobia's stories range from steamy to scorching and she writes whichever genre catches her interest at the time. When not coming up with ways to torture her characters, she enjoys knitting and crochet (both regular and Tunisian) as well as reading shoujo and yaoi manga.

Learn More About Zenobia Renquist:
Website –
Blog –
Twitter –
Newsletter –
Facebook Fan Page –
Goodreads –

Goodreads Group –

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Promo, Personal Appearances and All That Stuff (#MFRWAuthor @centrsexculture @fetlife @BDSMtweets)

I don't often make personal appearances, which in my line of work are readings, lectures, booksignings and the like. I used to before the internet took over the world and relegated personal appearances into second place behind internet marketing, which in my mind is really more efficient. I can reach more people with the touch of a button than I can by giving ten thousand readings, especially since few people show up to them. I've attended booksignings with not one but two best-selling authors who had hit the NYT list, and was shocked by the few customers they attracted. Humiliating to give a party when no one attends.

So I was surprised at my own enthusiasm for appearing in San Francisco at the Center for Sex and Culture to give a reading--that event will take place next Saturday evening, August 30 at 7 pm. I'll be there along with several other well-published erotica authors. And not only am I enthusiastic about it--I essentially created the event along with M. Christian, another author I "met" online. Chris lives in SF and has been a part of the scene there for quite a while, and get us set up at the CSC. He has confidently predicted that 30-50 folks will show up, each ponying up $10 for the privilege of hearing me and others read our work. Maybe they'll buy a book or two. Who knows?

Anyhow--I'm beset by doubt, to say nothing of the question of what readings to give and what to wear--damn important in my mind.

I'll probably read from the books I'll be flogging. I have copies of a couple of print books to sell--The Wilder Brother and Seducing the Hermit. Both are erotic, of course, but are basically romantic comedy. I'll be raffling off a print copy of Desire in Tartan as well.

Here's a snippet from Desire in Tartan to pique your interest in the event:

“Now,” he said, breaths harsh. “Are ye ready for me, mistress?”

She gave a little nod, but stopped, aware that he couldn’t see her in the darkness. But p’raps he had seen, for he used one deft hand to part her thighs and push his rod deeply into her."

Aaahhhh…” His groan and hers harmonized as his shaft forced its way past tight muscles and he was again parting her, opening her, creating a special space for him to nest. 

The mingled pain and pleasure undid her, and she cried out. 

He went instantly still, though he didn’t withdraw. “Mistress?”

She sought to slow her frantic pants, and he waited until her breaths had evened. “It’s…I’m all right,” she managed to say.

He bent his head to kiss her again with great gentleness. She entwined her fingers into his hair, his glorious mane of wild, black hair, reveling in the smooth slide and feel of it across her palm as they kissed. 

He started to move inside her, a slight thrust and wiggle that was about all she could take. Through the haze of pleasure clouding her mind she wondered how he could know exactly what she needed, how he could divine her feelings so truly.

If you can't make it to the reading, get the book here:

And here's the 4-1-1 about the event:

Leather, Lace & Lust: An Evening Of Erotic Storytelling and Sexual Merriment
Come to an evening of lusty literature by many of the best erotica writers in the Bay Area!
From the tempting tease of delicate lace to the steamy heat of hardcore leather, these authors and performers will amuse, delight, and most of all excite you in all kinds of new and provocative ways; This is an evening of witty, carnal, and provocative literary endeavors that will tickle just about every kind of fancy, a festival of playful sensual fiction that will make you laugh, cry, and get that oh-so-special tingly feeling in your nether-regions.
In other words, a night of kick-ass erotica performed by ass-kicking writers!
Our featured performers include:
Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, is a best-selling, award-winning author of seventeen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing.
Molly Weatherfield: “Twenty years ago, a mild-mannered computer programmer decided to spend some quality time with her erotic fantasy life, and Carrie’s Story - BDSM for smart girls - was born.”
Mistress Lorelei Powers is a well-known bi poly sadist and Domme. She is the author of several BDSM classics, including On Display, The Mistress Manual, and Charm School for Sissy Maids.
Blake C. Aarens is an author, poet, screenwriter, playwright, and a Black Girl Nerd.
Jean Marie Stine is the author of a number of pioneering works of erotica published in the late 1960 and early 1970s, beginning with Season of the Witch in 1968, which was filmed as the motion picture Synapse. Her erotic short stories and novelettes have been collected as “Trans-sexual: Fiction for Gender Queers.”
A.M. Davis is a poet, artist and novelist who lives in Oakland, California. Her first novel, You Were Always Waiting For This Moment to Arise, as well as her first poetry collection, Six Lifetimes of Love, will be published in late 2014.
M.Christian is a recognized master of erotica with more than 400 stories in such anthologies as Best American Erotica, Best Gay Erotica, Best Lesbian Erotica, Best Bisexual Erotica, Best Fetish Erotica and many others.

Saturday, August 30th, 2014
The Center For Sex And Culture

1349 Mission St, San Francisco, CA 94103
Doors at 6PM, Event starts at 7PM
Admission: $10
And as for the initial question--what do you think? Has the internet supplanted personal appearances as far as writer promotion is concerned? Please leave comments below.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Boxed Set of Hot Erotic Fiction ONLY 99 CENTS for a limited time! (#BTHK #Nook @JenniferKacey @SabrinaYork)

Brought to His Knees

Don’t miss out on this mega-hot set of pussy-wetting fiction from some of your favorite erotic authors. That’s
11 stories…in one book…from sweet to sizzling and everywhere in between!!!

But what's it about, you ask?

The Alpha male. Strong. In control. Letting no one and nothing rule him…until he meets the one, and all bets are off. The world tilts, the bed rocks, and suddenly that tough guy finds himself Brought to His Knees—in more ways than one.

This collection of ten hot to erotic novellas and one short erotic novel will take you on journeys of lust, love, and adventure, leave you breathless and quite possibly in need of a cold shower.

Enter with anticipation. Finish satisfied…

Here's a little more about one of the stories:

Beneath the Pages
Jennifer Kacey

One wicked night with her did nothing but whet his appetite. Now he’ll settle for nothing less than her complete submission

Acacia owns and runs Fame, one of the hottest celebrity magazines in the country. She survives on convincing the rich and famous to reveal things they would normally do anything to keep hidden. She lives, eats and breathes the magazine. Day in and day out. She has no life, nothing to keep in the dark. Nothing but the night she gave herself over to the one man she never should have wanted.

Radigan, the most sought after actor in Hollywood, wants her again, and won’t take no for an answer. He had her for one night. Several hours of the best sex of his entire life, but she was gone the next morning before the sun had fully risen. His attempts to contact her have gone unanswered. Everything he’s tried so far has been a miserable failure. But he finally knows what to do to slip beneath the pages of her heart.

This time he’s playing for keeps and the exclusive rights to her body, heart and soul.

Jennifer Kacey is a wife, mother, and business owner living with her family in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.

Website -
Blog – The Decadent Divas -
Facebook –
Facebook Author Page -
Twitter -
Amazon Page -
Goodreads –
Pinterest -

Sabrina York – NY Times and USA Today Best Selling Author

A scalding attraction. An irresistible passion. A pity she’s the one woman he can never have…

Make Me Surrender
Tina Donahue

When it comes to two of the hottest guys in town, she has a proposition…to win their attention, passion, hearts.

A Cowboy’s Seduction
Cynthia D’Alba

One exhausted cowboy + One uptight account x A tropical resort = A hot seduction. But who is seducing whom?

Dark Wolf Enterprises
A.M. Griffin

Murder, mayhem and imprinting with a hot wolf shifter… And they say being an accountant is boring.

Building Bridges
Amy Ruttan

A vet tech and a lone wolf rancher ride out a sudden storm, but can they weather the emotions they stir up in each other...

Three Strikes
Anya Richards

Two lonely men. One secret affair. Irresistible passion that will push them both to the breaking point, and beyond.

Born to Sin
Danica Avet

A tomboy in love makes a desperate attempt to seduce her best friend and succeeds beyond her wildest dreams. But this Alpha male isn’t easily tamed and has secrets that could very well tear them apart.

The Sound of Your Name
Felice Fox

Their silent erotic encounters change his luck and awaken his soul, but secrets and cowboy superstitions can only keep them apart.

Cruising for Love
Lynne Silver

A vacation cruise comes with surprises—like the BDSM theme and her high school love, the one man she can’t resist.

Chief Sin
Sayde Grace

A taste of Sin isn’t enough. Instead she wants all of him, including the heart she once broke.

Monday, August 25, 2014

Capri's Fated to Find love...Read Daryl Devore's "Capri's Fate"

What's a woman to do when a voice follows her home and makes mad, passionate love to her?

Corporate business woman Capricious Gray is dragged to a sex toy convention by her best friend. Once a shocking, mysterious disembodied voice helps her with her purchases, it follows her home. Passion ensues, leaving Capri torn between lust for her fantasy lover and the desperate need for reality in her life.

Thall, son of one of the Fates, harbors the irrepressible need to be with the woman he's desired from afar for years. In order to make her his, once and for all, he must help Capri get past her fears, including the fear of what he represents - a fantasy.

Can fantasy become a reality for these two lovers?


My erotic adventure began the minute he whispered, "Do you happen to own a pair of red, fuzzy handcuffs?"

Well okay, it didn't exactly start there. If I'm going to be perfectly honest, I think it started with Kat's text: "Meet me at - insert name of five-star restaurant here."
Kat is always getting me to take her out for expensive dinners. I don't mind, I'm a high paid executive, in a very large corporation, while she's a receptionist in a small dental office. Besides, I like good food and her company.

Kat and I have been BFFs since third grade. We were in each other's wedding parties, and cried on each other's shoulders at our subsequent divorces. Now, we're each other's go to person whenever the mood strikes. Obviously, the mood struck and it involved my credit card. I texted back a reply –"Xavier's. 6 pm."

~ * * ~

Kat waited outside the restaurant when my cab pulled up to the curb. "Timing or what? I just got here."

After the requisite cheek kiss we stepped up to the Maitre D'. He smiled his, I-must-be-friendly-because-they're-guests, smile and escorted us to our table. We ordered drinks and chatted. We talked about the weather, her new dress, my job—you know, just old—no, scratch old, put longtime—girlfriend stuff.

After a diet conscious meal, followed by a calorie-loaded dessert, we waited outside for a taxi.

"Do you trust me?" With a goofy grin on her face, Kat's dark chocolate, mellowed-from-too-much-wine, eyes gazed at me.

Having seen that innocent demeanor before; it meant nothing but trouble. I was a bit wary. Okay, a lot wary! The last time she'd gawked at me like that and asked the same brainless question, we ended up at a frat house beer slosh during Homecoming and I wasn't in college anymore.

A cab pulled up and stopped. She grabbed my arm and dragged me into it. "Convention Center."

I slid next to her and shut the car door. "What's at the convention center?"

"That's the trust me bit." She raised her hands and flicked two fingers up and down at the words "trust me". You have to love air-quotes.

I checked my Blackberry for messages then glanced at her. "Is this going to get me arrested? Again?"

She shook her head.

"Is it going to get me hit on—again—by horny, beer-soaked, college drunks?"
Kat giggled.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

~ * * ~

For a hotter excerpt – go to and click on the free read tab at the top.

What people are saying about Capri's Fate:

5 Stars - Truly very creative lovemaking. I had to stop to fan myself and sigh a lot of times. My toes really curled. (used exquisite quills 7/15/14)

5 Stars - I applauds the author. For that. It's worth your time and money.

5 Stars - It was a story that left you angry, sad, plus hot and bothered. I loved this book!!!

Buy Links 


Daryl Devore lives in an in old farmhouse in Ontario, Canada, with her husband, a large salt water aquarium full of fish and some house ghosts. Her daughter is grown and has flown the nest. Daryl loves to take long walks up her quiet country road, or snow shoe across the back acres and in the summer, kayak along the St. Lawrence River. She has touched a moon rock, a mammoth and a meteorite. She's been deep in the ocean in a submarine, flown high over Niagara Falls in a helicopter and used the ladies' room in a royal palace. Life's an adventure and Daryl's having fun living it.

Where to find Daryl  

Google+ - Daryl Devore

GoodReads Author Page -