Archive for 2010

WISHING YOU ALL

December 23, 2010 | Holidays

A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS and a BRILLIANT NEW YEAR!

I’ll be back next week. Until then…

Happy Writing!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey…Hotter than Hell

1 Comment

HOW ABOUT A LITTLE COWBOY KINK?

December 20, 2010 | Friends

Today’s guest author is delightful Jenna Howard with her amazing new release SPURRED ON.

In sixth grade, Jenna had to keep a journal for a class project. One assignment was “What do I want to be when I grow up.” Young Jenna carefully printed out she “wanted to be a writer.” Those words would guide her toward writing teen angst stories in high school and on to erotic romance, a genre her mother is soooo comfortable with. 🙂 Jenna currently resides in Calgary, Alberta, Canada and continues to fascinate readers with her unique style.

SPURRED ON
Jenna Howard
The Wild Rose Press

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BLURB:
He wears the spurs, but she’s not afraid to use them.

Country singer and secret Domme Jessa Brody is home to perform at the Calgary Stampede and to brainstorm some new songs for her next album. Sexy bronc rider Luke O’Connor is once again the perfect inspiration for her songs and naughty dreams. Strong, brave and handsome, he’s man enough to submit to her wildest desires. But can she handle the responsibilities that go hand in hand with being a good Domme, or will she lose herself –and Luke–when Spurred On?

EXCERPT:
“Oh, he’s a love.” Standing up, she walked over to the horse and leaned against him. “Aren’t you?” She stroked the horse’s back, loving the curve and muscles.

Luke’s gaze followed her hand.

That’s right, I could be stroking you like this.

Jessa gave the muscular rump a sharp slap and Luke’s nostrils flared. Her body hummed. She handed him the guitar then hopped onto the gate. Swinging her legs over, she jumped down.

“See, the secret to Crow is simple.” Finally, she faced Luke.

He tried to look casual and unaffected but she didn’t believe the act. Luke held himself still—wary yet curious, curious but wary.

“He’s all tough and shit until you set the rules. A little knee in the belly as you tighten the cinch. Sure, he’ll buck.” When she leaned against Luke, his breath sucked in audibly.

“But you ride him hard until he knows who holds the reins.” She licked along his jaw and cupped the thick bulge beneath the faded denim and squeezed. “Giddy up,” she whispered in his ear.

Every inch of his six feet shuddered. There was something potent in making the strong tremble. She took her guitar from him. “You look good, Luke,” she called as she walked out of the stable.

Holy hell, her nipples throbbed and her pussy ached. She’d also die before admitting that inside she was bouncing around like a teenage girl yelling, “He’s here! He’s here!”

Would Luke still buck her control?

Buy Link

Learn more about talented Jenna Howard on her website and her entertaining blog. You can also follow Jenna on facebook and twitter.

I’ll be back Wednesday. Until then…

Happy Writing!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey…Hotter than Hell

6 Comments

Does Rob Appleton Need a Bitch Slap?

December 17, 2010 | Interviews

Let me know after you read his comments in our dual interview at Melissa’s Imaginarium.

Learn more about my cheeky writing partner on his website and Mercurial Times blog. I guarantee you’ll enjoy his quick wit and his terrific books.

While you’re surfing the web, check out Amber Quill Press – Amber Heat and read an excerpt from our hot new release CLAIRE DE LUNE. It’s the perfect gift for Kindle lovers.

Have a wonderful weekend. I’ll be back Monday. Until then…

Happy Writing!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey…Hotter than Hell

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Still Need the Perfect Christmas Gift?

December 15, 2010 | Friends

Or a great stocking stuffer? Then check out The latest best seller from Dorien Grey.

CAESAR’S FALL
Dorien Grey
ISBN 978-1-936144-08-2 Print
ISBN 978-1-936144-09-9 Ebook
Zumaya Boundless

BUY LINK AMAZON Print Book
BUY LINK Ebook

BLURB:
With a new building to restore and his relationship with Steve growing more serious, the last thing Elliott needs is someone else’s problem, but when lottery millionaire Bruno Caesar moves into his building he can’t just ignore the man’s pleas for help.

Then Bruno’s life comes to an abrupt end when he falls from his balcony. There’s only one problem—he was terrified of heights…and never went onto the balcony. Bruno can’t rest until the puzzle of his sudden death is solved, and Elliott and John are once again searching for answers.

EXCERPT:
As they entered the lobby, two men, one impeccably dressed in a very expensive suit and tie, had just been cleared by the doorman and directed to 40J. Somewhat to his surprise, Elliott recognized the men as Button and Paul, regulars at the Anvil, a nearby gay bar. He’d met them there some time before, but couldn’t recall when he’d last seen them.

Spotting him, Button said “Elliott!” in a tone usually reserved for greeting long-lost friends.”What a surprise! Going to the party?”

“No,” Elliott said. “I live here.” They converged on the way to the elevators, and Elliott introduced Steve.

“Well,” Button said, “We’d wondered why we hadn’t seen you in a while.” Giving Steve an exaggerated head-to-toe scan, he added, “Now I see why. Why go out for hamburger when you can have steak at home?”

Steve grinned as the elevator door opened and they all got on.

“So how do you know Bruno?” Elliott asked.

“Everyone knows Bruno,” Paul volunteered. “He’s like a shooting star, suddenly appearing out of nowhere to streaking across the firmament of the Chicago gay scene.”

Elliott and Steve exchanged quick bemused glances, and Button said, “Once a publicist, always a publicist. And he’s hardly a shooting star. I’ve known Bruno for centuries.”

“Maybe so,” Paul said firmly, “but that’s before he won the lottery.”

“He won the lottery?” Steve asked, obviously impressed.

“And not just any lottery,” Paul said: “The MegaBucks, no less! Fifty-nine million!”

“Wow!” Steve said.

The elevator stopped at 35 and the door opened.

“Why don’t you come up with us?” Button asked. “I’m sure you’d be welcome.”

Elliott, standing in the doorway to prevent its closing, said: “Bruno did invite us, but we had a birthday party and had to decline.”

“It’s not too late,” Paul suggested.

Since Steve had already stepped out of the elevator, Elliott looked quickly to him for confirmation, then said, “Not tonight, I don’t think. Maybe next time.”

They all exchanged smiles and waves as the door closed, and Button said, “Don’t be a stranger!”

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For greater insight into the “real person” behind Dorien Grey, the curious are invited to check out his website and his various blogs: Dorien Grey and Me and A Life in Photos among them.

There is nothing Dorien loves more than hearing from a reader. If you’d like to contact him, just drop him a note at doriengrey@gmail.com.

Have a wonderful weekend, I’ll be back Monday. Until then…

Happy Writing!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey…Hotter than Hell

Comments are off

WHAT YOU DON’T CONFESS

December 13, 2010 | Friends

is a hot, new release by KC Kendriks. This well-written novella is part of Stepping Out an AmberPax™ Collection of Erotic Romance by Various Authors. I do believe you’ll love KC’s book. 🙂

WHAT YOU DON’T CONFESS
KC Kendriks
ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-020-7
Amber Quill Press – Amber Allure

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BLURB:
Bright and beautiful, Cassidy Barlow is one of Marionville’s new breed of movers and shakers. Outspoken on political and social issues, Cass draws a lot of media attention, and knows how to us it. Out and proud, Cass makes no apologies for who he is, or who he wants – and he wants Dylan Donoghy. The only thing is, from where Cass stands, Dylan seems to be involved with two different men.

Coming out. The most difficult phrase in Dylan Donoghy’s vocabulary. Handsome, successful, wealthy, he’s made it this far in life with only his closest friends knowing he’s gay. Dylan has a good reason for that to change – his deepening attraction to Cassidy Barlow. It doesn’t come easy, but Dylan takes a few first steps out of the closet. It’s his only choice if he wants to be with Cass, even though he knows Cass has some secrets of his own.

Every man has a private past, and an unwritten future. What he won’t confess stands between the two.

EXCERPT:
“You do know those four watchdogs of yours were there the entire evening, don’t you?”

I nodded. “They like to keep an eye on me. Obviously, it didn’t discourage you at all.”

His hand gripped my shoulders again. His amber gaze drilled into mine. “Just so I don’t step in it, Dylan, how many of them have you slept with? And don’t lie to me.”

I fought back against of wave of anger. How dare he imply I’d not tell him the truth? Being astute, he knew he’d pissed me off. I saw the apology in his eyes as he touched his fingertips to my lips.

“That didn’t come out right, Dylan.”

“ Apology accepted. Before today, I might have told you it was none of your business, but now I think you should know. We’re no longer intimate, but I have a very close, special relationship with both Travis and Tyler. I’m very happy for them that they both found a partner.”

“That’s what I figured out Friday night when they spent all that time running in and out of an area marked ‘private’. Especially Templeton.”

“Don’t test me too often, Cass. I don’t like it.” I spoke sharper than intended, but he needed to know my boundaries. “There’s a lot of space between your age and mine. Be careful not to judge until you get to where I am.”

Those restless hands of his skimmed along my sides. “I’m not being judgmental, I swear. I just needed to know what the dynamics are between you and them so I don’t put both feet in my mouth.”

“Okay. I get it. And for what it’s worth, all four of them, especially Travis, is rooting for you.”

“Really? He’s in my corner, is he?” Cass tucked his fingers under my belt and tugged. I levered my weight off the door and stepped past him, capturing his hand to pull him into the casual space I used for informal gatherings.

“He’s using tough love on me when it comes to you, so don’t be shocked, or surprised, at his little quips. Have a seat.”

Cass eased down on the love seat and patted the spot beside him. I ignored him, and went to the bar. “What would you like to drink?”

“Ginger ale?”

I nodded and poured two, handing his to him with an apology it didn’t come in a brandy snifter as I settled in beside him. I stopped him when he moved to put his arm around me.

“You’re killing me here, Dylan.”

“No, I’m not.” I sipped my drink. “Cass, I don’t want to make a misstep with you. I know what you want tonight, but what do you want next week? Or next month? Christ, what do I want next week?”

He leaned back and watched me with those amber eyes. His cool, even regard gave little indication of his thoughts. Cass downed his drink in three fast swallows, then swirled the ice around in the bottom of the empty glass.

“Do you always think everything to death, Dylan?”

“It’s a hazard one encounters in middle age.”

“I’m not some mistake you’ll regret when you’re ninety.”

I laid my hand on his thigh. The heat of his skin penetrated his jeans, and snaked up my arm. “You’re right, you know. I won’t regret meeting you, whether dinner is all we share, or we become friends, or if we become lovers.”

“Or? If? I don’t appreciate being jerked around.”

“Well, poor little you that I haven’t figured this out yet.”

Cass’s mouth dropped open, then snapped closed. He stared at me, blinked, and stared again. I reveled in private glee that I’d seen him speechless twice in one day, but that amusement was strongly tempered by the knowledge I had him too far off balance. I squeezed his knee.

“Look, Cass. I’m not jerking you around. Getting involved with someone isn’t easy for me. I’ve never been someone who gets a hard-on for a guy and loses my mind until I fuck him. I have to think things through, and consider the impact it may have on my life.”

He shook his head. “Babe, you’ve got to start living in the moment, and stop living in fear.” Cass set his empty glass down on the end table and stood. With angry, disappointed eyes, he met my gaze. A muscle moved in his clenched jaw.

My heart beat painfully. I knew what he was going to say…

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I’ll be back Wednesday. Until then…

Happy Writing!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey…Hotter than Hell

2 Comments

Destiny Blaine – Center Stage

December 10, 2010 | Friends

Dynamic author Destiny Blaine is here to share her soon to be released novel Waking Up the Arguably Dead.

Here’s the tagline: Waiting to Die Can be Such a Drag.

Now that has to peak your interest. 🙂

Hi, Sloane. Thank you for allowing me to be your guest today. I wanted to stop by and tell you about my upcoming book.

Waking Up the Arguably Dead is a Dark Paranormal MFM Romance with comic relief elements. Readers get a glimpse inside my hometown of Blountville, Tennessee as they flip the pages of this Passion in Print novel. They’ll see what I see while driving down Main Street and they’ll discover a country store, while somewhat fabricated, where many of us pop in for an ice cold soda and good conversation.

Waking Up the Arguably Dead introduces readers to Granny Myrtle, a spunky little old woman who is several characters all wrapped up in one. I created Granny from a few country grandmothers I’ve had the pleasure of meeting at least once. As for Addison: Well, I don’t know anyone quite like Addison but she sure is one lucky gal. Read the book and find out why a lot of girls in these parts might be a little envious.

In this novel, you’ll meet Melissa, the LPN over at the local physician’s office. I’m happy to say she is true to form. No, there isn’t a Dr. Michaels in Blountville, but Melissa lives here. She’s a saucy little vixen who knows what she wants and doesn’t care to tell everyone how much she’s enjoyed getting it. The first name has been changed to protect the promiscuous and as far as I know the real ‘Melissa’ never worked a day in her life. You’ll like her though. She’s full of surprises.

Step inside Waking Up the Arguably Dead. Meet my characters. Then, drop me an email, destinyblaine@yahoo.com, and let me know what you think or what would you do if you were in Addison’s shoes?

WAKING UP THE ARGUABLY DEAD
Destiny Blaine
Passion in Print

Genre: MFM Paranormal-Vampire

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BLURB:
Martin Cartwright’s neighbor receives disheartening news. She’s dying. As far as Martin can tell, Addison has never looked better, but when daily sightings of his beautiful neighbor become few and far between, Martin realizes Addison isn’t too keen on living. And he decides to help her get on with dying.

Martin plans to scare Addison into living. Unbeknown to him, someone is watching with similar goals. Only Drake Valentine’s interests in the lovely Miss Deveraux vary from Martin’s ambitions. Soon, Addison must choose between living in the shadows of sickness and stepping into the darkness where she’s always been drawn.

EXCERPT:
Addison Deveraux stared at her family physician for several minutes, unable to speak and incapable of processing the information he relayed. She focused on the white walls around her. She skimmed over the medical licenses and board certifications, eventually narrowing her gaze on the overstuffed plastic brochure rack housing material about common medical problems. The entire time, she remained faintly aware of her doctor’s monotone voice. An avid movie enthusiast, Addison disconnected from the moment and recalled a recent flick she’d watched.

She remembered one scene in particular where a woman learned of her life-destroying health circumstance. Thanks to modern day technology, the character slipped into a mindboggling funnel surrounded by noise typically found in a seashell. The echo intensified and the room scrambled into spinning pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

On the big screen, the actress sobbed. The doctor calmly provided information about the disease for which she’d been diagnosed and the woman finally zoomed in on those fated words: “You’re dying.”

Addison blinked. “I am?”

“Addison,” Dr. Michaels began gently, “Haven’t you heard a word I just said?”

She swallowed. “No, I was…” Thinking about dying.

“Addison , this isn’t something you should take lightly,” Dr.Michaels stressed, leaning over his desk. An older man with salt and pepper hair, Dr. Michaels wore tinted large-rimmed glasses and resembled someone who might have been chosen to portray a physician delivering detrimental news.

Addison watched his mouth move. His words hummed all around her, beating into her ears like a hollow drum. “Treatment is something we should discuss together. This isn’t the end and that’s it.”

Boom. Boom. Boom. The maddening tempo gained momentum.

Advice slipped from his lips but the words ran together in a never-ending slur. “Think of diagnosis as a transition. By the time you’ve processed the information I’ve given you, you’ll be ready to face the days ahead. In the end, you’ll be much better off.”

She gulped. There it was. The dreaded statement, You’ll be much better off.

How many times had she attended a funeral for one of her grandmother’s friends and heard the same thing? Mary Lou Cornell went to a better place. Dan Bradley was much better off after both arms and one leg were amputated.

Carla Sue Davis found Jesus after living on the streets and working for some pimp who decided to repay her years of servitude with continual beatings. And Barbara Jo Jones faced death the same way she’d faced living; always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

No indeed, Addison refused to walk down the same road chosen by Granny Myrtle’s best friends, or her cousin Gertrude, who for some reason received her bad news and decided to kick the bucket, before the bucket smacked her upside her head. No way. Addison planned to do a little better for herself. She’d die on her own terms.

The way Addison met death was her decision. Since she had a choice in the matter, she planned to go on out there and greet death—take her fate by the horns and ride the daylights out of it.

Yep, it was time to get on with dying.

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Learn more about Destiny and the books she loves to write on her website and be sure to check out Destiny’s informative blog.

I’ll be back Monday. Until then…

Happy Writing!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey…Hotter than Hell

6 Comments

Spice Up Your Life

December 8, 2010 | Friends

with Ginger Simpson through her gifted writing in all of her thirteen books.

FIRST DEGREE INNOCENCE is Ginger’s latest release and a writing stretch for this talented author. It’s a novel that proves Ginger Simpson has a formidable talent.

On the personal side, Ginger tells us she retired from her big girl job and hoped to devote more time to writing, but got caught up in the every day world of promotions, emails and chatting. Ginger decided that one book a year might just be her norm.

Ginger spends time with husband, Kelly, and always finds time for Spencer, the love of her life. Her grandson, diagnosed with Autism, has shown her that with determination, all things are possible. Look how long it took Grandma Moses to find fame.

FIRST DEGREE INNOCENCE
Ginger Simpson
ISBN: 1456320092 Print
ISBN: 9781456320096 E-book
Books We Love Publishing Partners

Genre: Fiction / Romance / Suspense

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BLURB:
Imagine being sent to prison for a crime you didn’t commit and having everyone laugh when you proclaim you’re the victim of a terrible injustice.

The transition to an inmate’s life is hard enough, but when the prison bully arranges to have Carrie transferred to her cell, leaving behind her current bunk-mate and the first person to believe in her innocence, Carrie finds herself embroiled in a plot in which she wants no part.

The only bright spot in her life is a secret attraction she shares with a male guard during her work as a trustee in the prison garden. But can he save her?

EXCERPT:
“This is all a big mistake. I shouldn’t be here.” Carrie’s voice trembled. “Honestly, I’m innocent.”

With deeply-furrowed skin and graying hair, the guard looked well past fifty. She walked closer, stopping when her face was only inches from Carrie’s. “Do you have any idea how often I hear that in here?” Her breath reeked of cigarette smoke, and Carrie wrinkled her nose and turned her head. How could someone she’d never met hate her so much already? Was there even an ounce of compassion buried beneath that deep sneer?

The older woman pressed the edge of her baton against Carrie’s jawbone and forced her face forward. Her stomach clenched. Evil gleaming in her eyes, the guard delved the wooden stick under Carrie’s bra strap, slowly guiding the silky string off her shoulder and down her arm. Gooseflesh peppered her skin and she shivered.

“Stripping means everything, inmate Lang. Panties, too, sweetheart. Move it! I’m a busy person, so quit wasting my time.” The matron strode to the other side of the room, leaned against the wall, and ogled Carrie while she finished undressing.

Lowering her head, she dropped her bra atop the pile on the floor then kicked her panties off next to it. Feeling the cold invade every pore, she wrapped her arms around her upper body. Threatening tears blurred her eyes, but she squeezed her lids together and tilted her head toward the ugly pipes snaking across the ceiling. Oh Lord, what did I do to deserve this? Please, help me. You’re my last hope.

“Praying are you?” the gravelly voice taunted. “It’s a little late for that. Put those hands down to your sides and look to the front, missy.”

Carrie opened her eyes and swallowed hard. Did the woman expect her to know what to do? “N-Now what?” she asked in a quivering voice.

Just a short time ago, she’d been frisked, photographed, and finger-printed for the second time in her life. Her initial arrest had been horrifying enough, but she at least made bail for a time. Now this? She gazed down at the black ink smudges still visible on her hands. Why was this happening? Never had she felt so humiliated…and disbelieving. How could the judge have sentenced her to ten years in prison?

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Learn more about Ginger Simpson on her website and blog Dishin’ It Out. Ginger’s other site let’s it all hang out, My Place to Rant but don’t go, if you don’t respect differing opinions!

I’ll be back Friday with KC KENDRICKS. Until then…

Happy Writing!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey…Hotter than Hell

1 Comment

Hello World! I’m Back

December 7, 2010 | Promotion

after almost two weeks of solitary confinement. No, I haven’t been in prison. 🙂 My computer decided to go on an unauthorized vacation. Thanks to the marvelous people at Qresolve, I’m back up and running.

While I was in limbo two marvelous authors posted about Robert Appleton and me. Check out the dual/duel interview Beth Anderson posted on her blog. Also, zip over to Melissa’s Imaginarium for more information.

I’ll be back tomorrow with talented Ginger Simpson. Until then…

Happy Writing!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey…Hotter than Hell

Comments are off

HOT OFF THE E-PRESS

November 30, 2010 | New Releases

CLAIRE DE LUNE
Robert Appleton & Sloane Taylor
ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-011-5 (Electronic)
ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-995-8 (Paperback)
Amber Quill Press – Amber Heat

Buy Link

BLURB:
You’re invited to the galaxy’s most prestigious beauty pageant.
Clothing optional.
Romance and danger…fully provided…

Cocky young detectives Gerry Rappeneau and Sebastian Thorpe-Campbell arrive at the premier lunar resort expecting a week of eye candy and long massages. With a half-billion-credit purse up for grabs, this year’s pageant is the focus of a hundred worlds. And beauty isn’t the only thing in the eye of the beholder.

One contestant, Evelyn Lyons, is attacked and her assailant killed. Surely a simple case of a stalker gone mad, as nothing bad ever happens at the Selene contest. So the brochure says.

The closer Gerry gets to Evelyn, the more he is convinced she’s hiding something. His meticulous character sparks with her wild, sassy nature, and they embark on a torrid affair. Their forbidden romance isn’t the only thing set to ignite in Pont de Reves.

Sebastian’s infatuation with demure Claire Villiers, another contestant, threatens to put all four of them in harm’s way.

A deadly trail of corporate conspiracy, monstrous assassins and hot bikini wax is more than anyone bargained for in this incendiary erotic mystery. Get ready for some serious heat on the dark side of the moon.

EXCERPT:
Evelyn’s self-esteem soared like a rocket into space as she gazed into Gerry’s dark blue eyes. All the need and desire that filled him shone through. She liked him, maybe even more than that if she were honest, and had wanted him from the moment his pompous ass walked into her hotel room. Being with him and initiating sex tonight was the right thing for her to do.

Gerry wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer, as if he sensed how frail she was at that moment.

A sigh escaped her. Damn, his hard chest felt good against her achy boobs, but not as good as his rigid cock nestling into her belly.

“Evie—”

“Don’t talk.” She hadn’t heard that name in a long time, not since her father was murdered.

He nodded and traced his index finger along her bottom lip. She nipped the tip, then sucked it in, tonguing the pad until he groaned.

“Ah, Ev—” He caught her face in both of his hands and kissed her with a passion that ignited her like none other.

His tongue toyed against the seam of her mouth and she willingly opened to welcome him. He delved in, a beautiful taste of wine and herbs, lapping and swirling until her knees trembled. With a regretful sigh, she pulled away.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Shh. No talking. It’s my little quirk.” She gently tapped his mouth, then took his hand and led him closer to the purple sand. After she stooped, she patted the floor, inviting him to join her. He made short work of sprawling out and laid his arms at his sides.

Evelyn rose up on her knees and combed her hands down his chest, flicking his nipples until they sprang to life. Intrigued by their stiff peaks, she swiped her tongue over her dry lips and leaned into him, licking and sucking the copper-colored discs.

She continued lower to the blond tuft cradling his cock. Gently, she glided her thumb over his swollen head, teasing the drops of pre-cum from the slit to the sensitive underside. Her other hand cupped his balls, rolling the tight sacs with her fingers, taking pleasure in her teasing.

His hips jerked with each light touch. He fisted his hands and dug his heels into the floor. Through hooded eyes, he watched, but did as she had requested and maintained silence.

On a rush of air, she gave his lips a quick peck and eased over him, holding her thighs tight against his lean frame. Heat emanated from his body, soothing and stimulating, a new awareness she longed to experience more than just once.

Her breasts swayed mere inches from his mouth. He stretched up and tweaked her pebbled nipples with his thumbs and index fingers. Cuddling them together, he licked and suckled the sensitive tips, first one, then the other. A deep shiver rocketed through her, increasing the ache low in her belly.

She teased his cock along her nether lips, loving the feel of his hot flesh grazing against her clit. In slow motion, she edged onto his shaft, savoring the inches that penetrated her wet vagina.

He rocked into her, clutching her hips, holding her in place. She locked her hands around his wrists and pulled them away, the need to set the pace paramount.
Time stood still. The only sounds in the room were their pants and grunts as they ground against each other. He stopped mid-thrust, his face set in a grimace.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he bit out through clenched teeth. “This is so sexy I don’t want to come.”

“I do.” She slapped his hip. “Again and again.”

Rising up on her knees, Evelyn again found her momentum and rode him harder, faster, loving the feel of him pounding inside her. Her breath hitched as he thrust higher, deeper, tapping her womb, the sensation sublime…

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I’ll be back tomorrow with a new book by Ginger Simpson. Until then…

Happy Writing!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey…Hotter than Hell

1 Comment

Journey to the Dark Side

November 29, 2010 | Friends

Every once in a while I love to delve into the past with a good historical/medieval read. Linda Sole, prolific author with over 70 books to her credit, is just the author to hold me captive.

Love Hate & Betrayal (The Apothecary) is a medieval story which suits the title and a book you’ll enjoy. Melloria is driven out into the snow when her husband’s castle is stormed. Big with child and close to her time, she collapses outside the gates of Nicholas Malvern’s manor house. Nicholas is the Apothecary, but he is suspected of using the dark arts.

LOVE HATE & BETRAYAL – THE APOTHCARY
Linda Sole
Amazon

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Yorkshire, in the year of Our Lord 1254

“I curse you, Montroy,” she cried in a loud voice that carried to every corner of the hall. “For what you have done this day, I curse all those who serve you. You have murdered my brother and you will live to regret every drop of the precious blood you spilled. When my husband returns to England, you will die, as you deserve.”

“Daubeney deserved his fate.” The Earl of Montroy leaped to his feet. “Your husband murdered my brother and I vowed revenge. Now it is taken.”

“You are a liar,” the woman cried. “My husband killed your brother in fair fight by the laws of combat. You were not in England. You did not know that your brother was convicted of treason. He was given the choice to die at the block or prove his innocence in a fight to the death. My husband was the King’s champion. Now my brother is dead at your hands. I curse you and all your descendants. You murdered him and many of my people lie dead this day. The blood of innocents stains your hands. May your sins find you out and may you die in agony of body and mind…”

“Damn you! Be quiet woman,” the earl thundered down at her. “I gave orders to let you live for you are but a woman and with child but if you continue to plague me with your curses I shall have you hung – as the sorceress some claim you are.”

He turned to his men-at-arms, who stood poised and waiting. “Cast her out of the castle and if she returns you have my permission to put her to the sword.” There was a murmur of dissent from some of the company, and men looked at one another, shame and fear in their eyes. “Do as I say, damn you.”

“She has powers of witchcraft, my lord,” one man spoke up at last. “None here dare kill her.”

“Fools! Every last one of you. Give me my sword and I will do it myself.” He grasped the heavy broadsword that he had earlier used to kill the young knight. The blade still stained with blood of the youth’s followers as he raised it high above his head. Yet when the woman looked up, something held his arm. Suddenly, his sword was so heavy he could not move it.

“I shall leave this accursed place. There is nothing here for me now,” she said, her voice softer now, dangerous, filled with hatred. “Think of me when you lie sleepless, Montroy, and remember. My husband will avenge my brother and me…”

The countess turned and left Montroy standing there with his arms raised above his head unable to move until she had left the hall. The sword fell from his hands, a crippling pain curled up his left arm. He bent double as the pain seemed to crush his chest; his eyes rolled, he fell to the ground and lay kicking and foaming at the mouth.

“It be not witchcraft, but a seizure,” she cried. “He is overcome by weariness from battle. Carry your lord to his chamber and put him to bed. Let the physicians tend him and if the Lord wills it he may recover.”

Melloria had known she risked death by returning to curse Montroy, but her heart was filled with bitterness toward the man. If only her husband had not gone to Spain. The earl would have resisted any siege, but with the lord gone they had been vulnerable. The men had fought hard but Peter had responded to Montroy’s offer to talk and been betrayed by a callous devil who disregarded the white flag to overrun their defenses. Montroy was ruthless but for one moment as she looked into his eyes she had known that despite his bold talk he feared her.

The snow penetrated the soles of her shoes, dampness soaking through the fine leather, but she no longer felt the cold. Covered from head to ankle in the thick, fur lined cloak, her body was insulated from the bitter weather, but the rest of her had long since become numb. Any tears she might have shed had dried, her mind empty of all but the hatred that drove her on through the icy wind and the softly falling snow. The Abbey of Saint Innocent was but thirty leagues from her home. There she could find shelter, someone to help her through the birth of her child, which was imminent – someone to care for the babe if she died.

Pain swept through Melloria, engulfing her body. She had been blocking out the ache in her back for hours but this was such agony that she could not ignore it. Giving a cry of fear, she clutched at her belly. The pain was almost unbearable but she must bear it. There was a way to go yet to reach the Abbey and sanctuary.

The snow lay thickly, covering the moors. The hem of her gown trailed on the ground, soaked as ice clung to it. Ahead of her, lay a dark shape; one large building surrounded by a huddle of outbuildings. Was it the Abbey? Was she closer than she had thought? She moved forward eagerly. Here was warmth and comfort, a bed where she could give birth to her son.

As she saw the building more clearly, her heart sank. This was not the Abbey but a large manor house. She did not know who lived within its forbidding walls. She moved towards the high gates made of wood banded with iron and, as she tried them, locked against her.

“Help me…please help me…” Her pride gave before the overwhelming pain as she sank to her knees, tears trickling down her cheeks.

She was falling into a pit of burning coals, the pain more terrible than before. She gave one despairing scream then crumpled into a heap on the icy ground.

“Here Brutus! Come I say!” the man commanded in a tone the great brute of a dog could not ignore. “Cedric, what have you found?”

“It is a woman, my lord.” The keeper of the hounds bent to investigate. “I think she lives yet…” He gave a cry as he turned her. “She is with child, Sire, and close to her time. I think her waters have broken.”

Nicholas Malvern bent to pluck the woman from the snow, a frown making his scarred face fearsome as he saw she was close to death.

“God’s Body! She is gentle born. What madness drove such a woman to my gates on a night like this?”

It was not a question his vassals dare answer for in truth no woman in her right mind would seek this house whether it be in sunlight or darkness. Nicholas knew he was dreaded, hated by many; even those who served him lived in fear of shadows for they did not understand him; though each and every one had come here more dead than alive and been saved. It was whispered that he was a sorcerer; some accused him of necromancy and the black arts, and some thought him the Devil incarnate. Only the dregs of mankind with nowhere else to go would stay near him save for a few devoted servants.

As he strode up the stairs leading to his chambers none followed. Nicholas took the woman to a bedchamber close by his own. He had allowed no one to use it since she died – the one woman he had loved and the woman he had killed. He had not ventured here since they had torn her body from his arms…

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I’ll be back tomorrow. Until then…

Happy Reading!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey…Hotter than Hell

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