Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Book Spotlight ~ What Remains: Mutation


A new strain. A brand new war... 

Cogan MacKenzie, Sullivan Gates and Jake Gibson aren’t your typical recon team. Firefighters in their previous lives, they lack the tactical presence the other teams have—a fact no one’s willing to let them forget. But when they get the chance to go searching for another missing team, they don’t let a lack of well wishes stop them. They just never counted on running into a woman fighting off a horde of undead. Or that she’d give them the answer to the one question that’s been on everyone’s mind. 

How the whole damn thing got started. 

But the knowledge reveals a deadly new development in their fight against those infected by the parasitic plaguea secret that could destroy what little remains. They’ve got one chance. One last shot at stopping the infection from spreading before there’s nothing left worth saving.


Purchase Links:

EXCERPT ~
“Damn it, Lelin, keep up!”
Harper Rawlings darted along the edge of the creek, pivoting just long enough to release another arrow, hitting the creature closest to her. The zombie’s head snapped back, making an eerie cracking sound before it fell into the water, a circle of droplets spraying into the air. The splash sent a ripple undulating across the surface, destroying the crystal-clear reflection of trees and brush. She glared at the man trailing behind her, his feet moving methodically along, his gaze blank. Unreadable.
She cursed again, kicking another creature in the face when it jumped out from behind a tree, knocking it down, the hard crunch of bone ringing through the air. She checked the area in front then took off, winding her way down the narrow trail, wondering why she even bothered dragging Lelin’s ass from day to day when she’d move quicker without him. Without the scathing looks and vile comments on the rare occasions he showed any sort of consciousness at all. He’d been somewhat cooperative when they’d first ventured out of the facility three months ago, but had grown increasingly agitated with every passing day. She’d finally had to bind his hands when he’d become violent, trying to stab her one night when they’d holed up in an abandoned building.
He growled behind her, the sound disturbingly similar to the chorus of grunts echoing around them. She glanced back at him, disgust and hatred churning in her gut as he glared at her, his lips curved into a cruel smile. Great. Of all the times for his personality to make an appearance, it had to be now. In the middle of nowhere. An aggressive group of infected on their asses.
He laughed, the sound bitter and smug. “Do you see how fast they’re running? It’s happening everywhere. Quicker than I ever imagined. I told you it was only the beginning.”
“Well, it’ll be your end if you don’t move your damn feet.”
“Untie me and I will.”
It was her turn to laugh. “And have you run off on me and get yourself killed? Or maybe you’d like to try and stab me in the back again? No thanks.”
“They won’t kill me. And I don’t have any weapons to kill you with.”
They aren’t human. They kill everyone. And everything’s a weapon in the right hands.”
“You mean like yours?”
She jumped across a narrow twist in the creek, stopping long enough to ensure he made it. “People like you are the reason people like me were necessary. Not that any of that matters now.”
“What’s wrong, Agent Rawlings? Losing faith?”
“Faith isn’t going to stop this plague. That’s up to you. And I’m not an agent anymore.”
“Who said I’d stop it?”
“Who said you’d have a choice?”
He chuckled, the tone rising sharply at the end. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? The reason we’re out here. I do have a choice, one that’ll get you killed for your efforts. You never should have left the facility. I told you I needed to stay.”
“The damn place got overrun. Those motherfuckers were everywhere! I can’t kill them all, Lelin. Not alone.”
She cursed when he purposely slowed. He was right about one thing. He’d get her killed if he didn’t cooperate at least a bit. Lelin gave her a cruel smile just as three zombies pushed out of some brush off to her right, gazes focused on her. One tipped its head back and screeched, the raspy sound sending shivers down her spine. They raced toward her, feet pounding the dirt, bodies uncharacteristically steady.
She notched an arrow, releasing it and reaching for another before the first even hit its mark. Thank god she’d been able to grab the bow during their escape. Ammo had become more extinct than humans. At least she could make her own arrows when needed. Damn hard to make a bullet from a branch and some bone.
The creature dropped, as did the next, leaving the third several feet away. Harper pushed Lelin aside, unsheathing her knife when a pop echoed through the woods. The zombie collapsed, pieces of shattered skull spraying across the ground.
She pivoted, sheathing her knife then swinging her bow back into place, another arrow held firm when her breath left her on a startled gasp. Three men stood on the other side of the small creek, guns drawn, gazes fixed on her. They wore faded cargo pants with shirts and jackets, the sleeves frayed around the edges. Firm, thick muscles bunched the fabric of their clothes, and she could tell just by looking at them they were intimately aware of each other. A team.


Friday, April 11, 2014

Book Spotlight ~ Frenchman's Cowboy


1 Night Stand
Frenchman’s Cowboy
by W.M. Kirkland

After a fling with a professional polo player and model on the set of a reality show, rodeo rider Dustin Gerke wants to let go of his regrets and get back in the saddle—romantically and professionally. Determined to wash the Frenchman out of his mind, he schedules a 1Night Stand…

Unable to forget his affair with bronc rider Dustin, Pierre Anthony Archumbault III has cut back on his schedule to follow the rodeo circuit…and the cowboy he hasn’t gotten over. Signing up for a 1Night Stand he hopes for a fresh chance at a new romance…

What neither of these former lovers expected was each other, but they have one night to lasso their dreams…
Frenchman’s Cowboy
1NightStand
About the Author:

A long time ago in a galaxy far away…oh wait, that’s a different saga. W.M. Kirkland began writing over twenty years ago, and all the stories, no matter the genre, featured handsome princes. Today, W.M. combines a love of history and fantastical settings with strong men and bonds which cannot be broken. Although these men keep W.M. at the computer most of the day, there’s still time for enjoying the outdoors, great movies, and a good time.

Contact Details:

Email: wm@wmkirkland.com
(they share the twitter account)


Enjoy the following excerpt for Frenchman’s Cowboy:

The door opened. His heart raced like it did during the scant seconds before the chute opened and the bronc reared out. He held position, like holding his mark out—no use getting caught at the gate—and waited for his date to enter.
Shock sucked the air from his lungs. “Tony?”. The stunning blond man, whose perfect hairstyle had to have come from a salon, strode into the room. He turned, stared at the bed, and stopped.
“Shit,” he whispered, and Dustin startled. Big words filled Tony’s vocabulary, not the coarse, four-letter ones he’d just used. Had Tony meant to be heard?
The latch clicked shut, the overnight bag he’d been wheeling into the room forgotten.
The man stood there. His jaw didn’t drop, but clear surprise filled his expression. Dustin hadn’t gotten to the top of his sport by being emotional. Where other cowboys slammed the chutes or stomped their hats, he remained stoic, good ride or bad. That talent served him well right then.
The man who’d walked through the door was the last one he’d expect.
Pierre Anthony Archumbault III, professional polo player, appeared as he did in one of his many commercials for expensive cologne or fancy watches. The white shirt tucked into a pair of expensive and tailored navy pants set off his smooth, tanned skin. The shoes were Italian leather—he’d would eat his hat if they weren’t—and the bag carried a label that said it couldn’t be bought for under four figures.
He’d been “Tony” the week they’d spent at an expensive resort, riding jousting horses for a reality show. Tony had been knocked off on the first round; he’d gone out in the second. He probably would have lasted longer, but a certain sexy Frenchman kept invading his thoughts and his bed.
If he thought he would get Tony off his mind by having a one-night stand with him…. He released a breath he hadn’t realized he held, knowing he wouldn’t get his mind off of things tonight. And yet, maybe he needed exactly this. Get Tony one more time, then he could move on. Yeah, that sounded good. He’d go with that theory and, if anything changed, he’d figure it out in the morning. He’d treat their encounter like a ride. Stay on, get to the clock, get a score, and head out to the next town.
“Dustin?” Tony asked in that accented, rich voice of his. Of course everything about the man was rich. His daddy owned a vineyard famous the world over for its expensive, exquisite wines. Dustin preferred his drinks with more hops and his men closer to his social circle. Still, they’d spent one hell of a week together. That meant tonight would be one hell of a night.
“You think Madame has a sense of humor?” He drawled. Hell, he really needed that second brew. Swinging his legs off the bed, he stood, leaving dirt on the bedspread from when his boots were there earlier. He opened the mini fridge, grabbed another bottle of fancy beer, and popped the top with the bottle opener on the front of the fridge. “Isn’t this something?” He took a swig.



Monday, April 7, 2014

Interview of Author Charlie Daye

Welcome Charlie Daye to Sensuous Promos today as she tells us about her work and what it's like to be a busy author.

At what point did you first consider yourself a writer? I actually remember the exact moment this happened. I was working full time when my book, Breeders, hit the best sellers list. Later that week, I'd gone out to dinner with some of the family and friends and I was asked what I did for a living and I replied, "I'm a writer."


Do you write about things similar to your own life experiences? Yes. I also use some of my friends' antics in my stories as well.

If you had to choose, which writer would you consider a mentor? Dean Koontz, hands down. I just think he's amazing!

Are there any new authors that have grasped your interest? Yes, I have recently fallen in love with two indie authors... C.E. Black and D.X. Luc. Ms. Black writes PNR and Ms. Luc write paranormal erotica. I'll admit that they have become my most recent addictions. 

What are you currently working on? Can you give us a sneak peek? Oh boy... I am currently working on six different novels at the moment. One of them being Breeders 3, which I know my fans are ecstatic about! You want a peak... hmmm... ok but just a small one. 

The sun was just starting to dip below the hill line of the valley turning the sky into varying shades of red, purple, pink and orange. The hills were heavily shadowed but there was still enough visible green to contrast the setting sun. Dropping down onto her knee, Navae pulled out her camera and immediately began snapping pictures. She changed angles and positions, dancing around like a kid in a candy store. Backing up against the tree line, she wanted to capture not only the valley but some of the cliff they were standing on as well. But when she lifted the camera up to her eye, the sight she caught in the lens was far more breathtaking than anything nature had to offer. Austin stood off to the side with his back facing the valley. His arms were crossed over his well defined chest and his cornflower blue eyes were trained on her. The light that shined with in those gorgeous baby blues was more brilliant in that moment than the sun would ever be. Unable to resist the temptation that he wrought, Navae snapped several pictures of Austin both at a distance and up close. If this was the only moment they were to have together, she wanted to make sure she never forgot the way he stared at her. To feel so desired, even for just a fraction of a second lifted her spirits higher than they’d been in a while.
Do you see writing as a career? Do you write full time? Or in addition to another job? I do see it as a career. As a matter of fact I write full time while simultaneously being a stay at home wife.

Do you have a cover artist you’ve worked with that you’d like to give props to? Yes!! I work with the amazingly talented Erin Dameron-Hill. She's an amazing artist and I truly believe that her work on Breeders was what captured the eyes of the thousands that read it.

What was the hardest part of writing your book(s)? Actually writing them. Coming up with the ideas for the stories is the easy part.

Where can our readers find you on the world wide web? They can find me at charliedaye.com, authorcharliedaye@gmail.com or on FB.



Here's a peek at Charlie's recent release:
Children of Kria: Fury (Dark Fantasy)


I am a seeker of vengeance;  A mender of broken hearts. 
I respond to the siren call of loneliness and despair. 
I was once a human woman; 
Very much like you; 
Until my heart was destroyed by the man I loved. 
My only purpose now is to avenge those that have been betrayed. 
I am Fury… 
And hell has nothing on me. 





Charlie Daye
Paranormal Romance Author

Friday, April 4, 2014

#CONTEST ALERT: Book Spotlight ~ A Home for Jesse


A Home for Jesse
by Iyana Jenna
Published by JMS Books
Length: 19,909 words


Jesse Gray can’t get more unlucky. His roommate left him and he gets kicked out when he can’t afford the rent. Next, the owner of the fast food joint where he works part-time suddenly tells him he no longer works there. Jesse still has a job as a PA on a movie set but the pay will never be enough to afford even the cheapest room in Hollywood. There’s only one place left to stay the night -- in the park.

Trey Miller is the star on a TV series where Jesse works. They bump into each other one night while leaving the set, and Trey thinks Jesse is much too good-looking to only be a PA. When he learns of Jesse’s financial condition, he offers a place to stay at his house. Having no other options, Jesse reluctantly accepts the offer, but what’s the catch?

 

EXCERPT: Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.


This ain’t so bad. Jesse pats his laden backpack. He stretches himself on the bench and lowers his head onto the bag, grimacing at the bumps pressing against his head and neck. Awesome. He is going to have major cricks and headaches come morning. That is if he’s not suffering from early signs of pneumonia.

Jesse shifts and grunts and finally gives up. He sits up, takes off his jacket, and spreads it over his front before he lies down again. Moving a bit again to find the most comfortable position, he thinks, Fuck, now my shorts are stuck in the crack of my ass. Jesse reaches down and pulls them free -- ah, that’s better.

He takes a deep breath. So he’s a bum now, is he? His ma would be heartbroken if she knew. She could blame him for being such a hard head and insisting on having his own way. Jesse stares blankly at the leaves swaying on treetops, at the shadows of the swings dancing in the dark, at the stars blinking mockingly down at him. At least the fact that they are up there means that the sky is cloudless and Jesse doesn’t need to worry about the possibility of rain tonight. Getting soaked when the only place he has to sleep is this park would be a pain in the ass, not to mention hazardous to his health. Jesse also hopes no cops will come patrolling tonight.

Weary to the bone, Jesse curls both hands under the side of his face and gives in to slumber.

* * * *

“Come on, Trey, one more glass. Don’t be a spoilsport.”

What one more glass means for Brent must be different from what it means for Trey. They have been here for hours. Trey had sneaked a glance at his watch once. It showed four -- and that must have been half an hour ago. Still there is no sign they are leaving soon.

Trey regrets his decision not to drive his own car and ride with Brent instead. Fuck. He’s going to screw up his shot big time tomorrow -- or rather, this afternoon.

“What celebration am I spoiling again?” Trey leans forward. Brent looks taken aback but he immediately offers a smile, which looks more like a snake’s sneer.

“Trey, that’s not nice.” He wags his forefinger.

“The hell with nice.” Trey rests his head on his folded arms on the table. “I’d rather be with Jess --”

Oops. He slipped up and said it out loud.

Brent and the others sitting around the table seem to come to a consensus to stop whatever they are doing and switch their attention to Trey.

“Jess? Jess who?” Brent asks. “I thought you were with Kimberly.”

Trey feels blood rush into his face but he sighs inwardly in relief that Brent doesn’t know who he was talking about.

“Kimberly? Right. And you said she’d be here! Where is she, Brenton?”

Brent visibly cringes at the name and Trey feels like guffawing. Eat that, asshat!

“My name’s not Brenton.”

“So what? You haven’t answered my question.”

And neither has Trey, but Brent has forgotten about that. Trey gulps down his drink, and tries to shut down from everything going on around him.


BUY LINKS



About the Author:

Iyana lives in Jakarta, a city famous for its traffic jams, a lot of cars and motorcycles, and people selling stuff on the roads. You can spend two hours on the road going to a place you can reach in half an hour in a normal situation. Thanks to the traffic jams, though, Iyana can come up with a lot of stories, mostly shorties, as she prefers to spend the time during her trips writing into her cell phone rather than sleeping.

Another thing Iyana loves is kitties. Right now she has five of them. Their names are Larva, Nyil, Cil, Mermood, and Horus. When she doesn’t write, she plays with them, or they would play with her when she writes.

Author’s Links:



a Rafflecopter giveaway
 

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Book Spotlight ~ The Crime of the Century

Order your Copy HERE
The Crime of the Century by JoAnne Myers
The residents of Rolling Hills, a hamlet in southeastern Ohio, were horrified when the dismembered bodies of two missing teens were pulled from the local river. Multiply suspects surfaced, but only one was railroaded, Richard Allan Lloyd, a known nudist and hothead. 
What began as an evening stroll turned into what found only in horror films, and dubbed ‘the crime of the century’. 18 year old Babette, a voluptuous beauty contestant and horsewoman, and her 19 year old boyfriend Shane Shoemaker, a jealous and possessive unemployed printer, were last seen crossing a trestle bridge. Within fourteen days, their mutilated torsos and severed heads and limbs were unearthed, suggesting satanic cult activity. 
With an investigation smeared with contradicting statements, and a botched crime scene, investigators built a flimsy case against Richard Lloyd. The three-week trial was based on police corruption and ineptitude, fairytale theories, and forensic mishandling. 
This heinous crime shattered the sense of security for Rolling Hills, destroyed two families, and forever scarred the town. This story is a detailed account of finding justice for Babette and Shane, and of one man’s perseverance to gain his freedom from death row.
 JoAnne Myers Melange Author of Murder Most Foul,- Wicked Intentions,- Loves', Myths', and Monsters',- The Crime of the Century,- Twisted Love,- Poems About Life, Love, and Everything in Between, and Flagitious.
Please see JoAnne's author interview by clicking HERE






Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Book Spotlight ~ Playing for Keeps


Left broken and bleeding, night club owner and accountant Cassidy Samson did her best to pick up the pieces of her broken self and move on with her life. She vowed never to let anyone get close to her heart again…until the potent force of a pair of green eyes threatens to bring her to her knees.

Hired as the new guitarist in the band at the Escape Lounge, Cameron Chase is intrigued and aroused by Cassidy’s tough-as-nails attitude and sets out to barrel through the formidable wall she has constructed around her heart, to get to the real woman behind the façade. He agrees to play by her rules in a reckless game of lust in hopes of finding love.

But will Cam be able to chase away the demons of Cassidy’s past that threaten to consume her? Will his love be strong enough to make her whole again?


Purchase HERE
 
Excerpt 
A long moment passed in which neither of us spoke, but I was acutely aware of her sitting there so close to me. My hand itched to touch her, I ached to pull her into my body. I cursed my depraved mind for wandering to such depths at such a moment.
Then she turned her head to look at me and when our gazes met and held I could almost see the electric sparks flying between us. In a hypnotic daze I lowered my head to hers, seeking out her succulent lips with mine. I half expected her to pull away, braced myself for the sting her rejection would bring, but she just stared at me until my lips covered hers and I was kissing her like a drowning man catching at a wayward piece of driftwood.
I turned my head to the side, effectively deepening the kiss. Her lips parted softly and she moaned as my tongue darted between her lips and delved into the hot cavern of her sweet mouth. She reached up and wrapped her arms around my neck, slowly leaning backward until her back touched the bed and I was half lying on top of her. My fingers tangled in her hair and we continued to kiss like we were starving, tongues meshing and dancing to a rhythm all their own.
I broke the kiss, moving my lips to the side of her face, her neck, then down to her shoulder, leaving feather-like kisses in my wake. I nipped at the delicate skin on her bare shoulder and she groaned softly, opening her legs so I was now nestled in their warm apex. My cock stiffened painfully and I brought my hand to one of her legs, pulling it around my waist. My lips found hers again and I kissed her fervently, drinking from the nectar of her hot mouth.
“God, I want you so fucking bad right now!” I groaned almost in pain as I broke the kiss. Her body stilled at the sound of my voice. Fuck!

Author's Bio
Kelsie Belle wears many hats – wife, mother and teacher are just a few. But the erotic romance writer hat is by far her favorite. She has been a storyteller for as long as she can remember, her characters live inside her overactive mind and a thousand stories come to life in her head every day. She’s been writing down her sweet romances ever since she was a teenager but in her early twenties, Ms. Belle became interested in erotic romance novels and her own stories took a turn for the sensual since then. 
Kelsie is wildly gregarious by nature. She considers herself ‘forever 21’ and enjoys reading contemporary romance, Science fiction and fantasy, listening to music and dancing like there’s no tomorrow. A caffeine addict that lives life from one coffee mug to the next, she’s always on the go, ready and waiting for the next adventure.

Website

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Author Interview ~ JoAnne Myers



Hello everyone, please welcome JoAnne Myers to Sensuous Promos today as he/she shares with us a little bit about themselves and their work. 

JoAnne, thank you for joining us today. I know the readers are eager to get to know you , so let’s get started.

Can you tell us a little bit about where you are from? I was born and raised in Lancaster, Ohio, population approximately 35,000 for the entire county.

What does your writing desk look like? What would we find on it right this minute? (Not only is my writing desk a mess, but so is the whole room. This is my hobby room. My computer, my paints and canvases are here. Papers everywhere, dogs under my chair. Trashcan never being emptied enough, and the filing cabinet stuffed full of possible stories and a few unmentionables. Have fun with this question. If your desk is a mess, tell us! J include a picture if you’d like)

Do you have any news you’d like to share with us?  I have two new books coming out. Loves, Myths, and Monsters, a fantasy anthology,  will be available April by Melange Books, and Twisted Love, a biography true crime anthology is available in May 2014.

When and why did you begin writing? I have always had a knack for writing; my spelling skills are something else.  Once of my teachers told me to write as a career, but I chose another route, and have always regretted it.  I still hold out for the hope of writing a best seller.  Stranger things have happened.


At what point did you first consider yourself a writer?  When my first novel Murder Most Foul, was picked up by Melange Books.  It took a lot of rewriting and searching for a publisher to find Melange.


What inspired you to write your first book?  It is based on a true crime that happened in my area.  Citizens still talk about the case.


How did you come up with the titles to your book(s)?  I usually get the title before the book is even finished. I seem to know what I want to call the book before I start to write the book.

Where can our readers find you on the world wide web?  Books and Paintings by JoAnne or http://www.booksandpaintingsbyjoanne.com   



Monday, March 31, 2014

Sensuous Promos Book Spotlight: Passionate Plots by Kelly Michelle Lawrence


A lively and informative guide for writers and lovers of erotic romance wanting to write their own stories, 

Passionate Plots has all the information you need, along with writing exercises and resources, to help you craft erotic and steamy scenes whether you are a new or established writer.

Purchase and publisher links




EXCERPT

One of the hardest problems for writers wrestling with erotic scenes, especially those fairly new to this, is what to call things? Specifically, body parts. Personally I prefer to call a spade a spade. Or a cock, a cock. It’s certainly preferable to euphemisms such as ‘manhood’ (though these may have a place in historical settings where the characters would have used those terms) or overly anatomical terms (frenulum) and most readers will be turned off or in fits of giggles if you start talking about his manly weapon or the delicate, dewy petals of her lady garden.
Having said that, straight to the point words such as ‘cock’ and ‘pussy’ may be deemed as too pornographic or even offensive to the reader. Which leaves the writer in a bit of a bind.
There are two approaches to this. Firstly, use words that are direct but not too explicit or anatomical. Here a few ideas.
Shaft (penis)
Head (of penis)
Sac (testicles)
Cleft (vagina or vulva)
Nub (clitoris)
Use these words in a direct manner without adding flowery adjectives – so no tumescent shafts or pearly nubs – and you can’t go too far wrong. If you don’t like these words, find some of your own. Keep a little notebook to build up your own erotic vocabulary, and you’ll soon have a list of words and phrases to use when you want to change the heat levels or substitute one word for another simply to avoid repetition. ‘Shaft’ instead of ‘cock’ for example.
There’s also another approach. Don’t name the genitals at all. Consider the sentence he slid inside her, masking her gasp. It’s explicit, to the point, and quite sexy. Yet no names have been used, because we don’t need them. We know exactly what he is sliding where. Similar expressions would be
He entered her
She rode his body
She caressed his length
He pushed his fingers into her slowly
As he tasted her, he looked up wickedly from between her thighs.
Try some phrases of your own, see how other authors do it, and record the phrases you like. Then have a go at writing a few sentences with each. You’ll have the outline of a steamy scene before you know it.
 
Author Bio:
Kelly Lawrence is a creative writing tutor and the author of bestselling erotic memoir 'Wicked Games' and New Adult romance 'Unconditional'. She also writes steamy historical romance for Harlequin as Michelle Kelly.
 

 
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