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Sunday, March 14, 2010

Trusting Destiny by Elise Logan


My last excerpt is from Trusting Destiny by Elise Logan. All I'm gonna say about this one is: any man who tells me I can eat all the donuts I want is a god :)

Enjoy!

Excerpt:

Eric reached out to touch her hand – the first contact since he’d arrived. A little frisson of heat snaked up her arm, distracting her. She looked up to find his pale eyes full of unexpected compassion. She shrugged, and his hand slid away. She didn’t want his compassion, it made her too vulnerable.

“Want help tomorrow? My Italian is pretty good.”

“My Italian is darned rusty. Thanks, that would be helpful. Given the time difference, I’ll start making calls in the morning.”

“Good idea. Donuts?”

Her eyes lit, dispelling the last of the melancholy. “I adore donuts. They’re terrible for me, though, so don’t let me eat more than one.”

He eyed her closely. “Don’t need to worry.”

She stopped herself before she snorted her disbelief. “Shows what you know.”

He sat up straight, reaching out to cup her jaw. “I know. You are hot.”

With no warning, he leaned in to capture her lips in a scorching kiss. There was no gentle introduction, no slow building of heat. Instead, Eric plundered her mouth, leaving her no time to erect a defense against his invasion. He tasted of ginger with an undertone of molasses. Momentary surprise gave way to answering hunger. This close she could smell his skin, a dry, clean smell that reminded her of winter wind.

His long fingers massaged along her jaw, his tongue slowing its urgent pace to begin a leisurely exploration. He turned her chair so she was fully facing him. Their knees bumped when they leaned toward each other. Eric shifted his legs so hers bracketed his, his lips shifting position to take the kiss even deeper.

Maggie’s head spun and her eyelids drooped closed. She concentrated on the taste and feel of his firm lips, his agile tongue. The rough feel of his calloused fingers on the smooth skin of her cheek added a layer of heat she couldn’t have expected. He kissed her and she went up in flames.

Lost in the melting heat of his mouth, her world narrowed to the flavor and feel of his mouth on hers. His hand dropped from her jaw to her waist. Those long, narrow fingers moved up, playing lightly over her ribs. She gave herself to the kiss, devouring him as he devoured her.

With a sharp tug, he pulled her into his lap. She gasped into his mouth, stunned to find herself suddenly seated on his hard thighs, her legs dangling over the edges of the chair. Her damp sex pressed against the hard ridge of his cock. Her heated body responded with a prickling rush of sensation, drawing her nipples to hard points. It didn’t matter that his jeans and her leggings separated them, what mattered was the delicious pressure of that hard cock. She squirmed in his lap to position that bulge where she wanted it, wrapping her arms around his neck while he clamped her body to his. Her breasts flattened into him, the thin lace of her bra rubbing her hardened nipples.

He slid one hand under the hem of her sweater. His palm moved up and he pushed the lace of her bra down, bumping the topaz aside to free her breast. The point of her nipple stabbed into his palm, and the slight rasp of his calloused skin against the sensitive flesh sent shivers through her.

He lifted his mouth from hers, his breath already coming in choppy pants. “Yeah. Completely hot.”
Eric reached out to touch her hand – the first contact since he’d arrived. A little frisson of heat snaked up her arm, distracting her. She looked up to find his pale eyes full of unexpected compassion. She shrugged, and his hand slid away. She didn’t want his compassion, it made her too vulnerable.

“Want help tomorrow? My Italian is pretty good.”

“My Italian is darned rusty. Thanks, that would be helpful. Given the time difference, I’ll start making calls in the morning.”

“Good idea. Donuts?”

Her eyes lit, dispelling the last of the melancholy. “I adore donuts. They’re terrible for me, though, so don’t let me eat more than one.”

He eyed her closely. “Don’t need to worry.”

She stopped herself before she snorted her disbelief. “Shows what you know.”

He sat up straight, reaching out to cup her jaw. “I know. You are hot.”

With no warning, he leaned in to capture her lips in a scorching kiss. There was no gentle introduction, no slow building of heat. Instead, Eric plundered her mouth, leaving her no time to erect a defense against his invasion. He tasted of ginger with an undertone of molasses. Momentary surprise gave way to answering hunger. This close she could smell his skin, a dry, clean smell that reminded her of winter wind.

His long fingers massaged along her jaw, his tongue slowing its urgent pace to begin a leisurely exploration. He turned her chair so she was fully facing him. Their knees bumped when they leaned toward each other. Eric shifted his legs so hers bracketed his, his lips shifting position to take the kiss even deeper.

Maggie’s head spun and her eyelids drooped closed. She concentrated on the taste and feel of his firm lips, his agile tongue. The rough feel of his calloused fingers on the smooth skin of her cheek added a layer of heat she couldn’t have expected. He kissed her and she went up in flames.

Lost in the melting heat of his mouth, her world narrowed to the flavor and feel of his mouth on hers. His hand dropped from her jaw to her waist. Those long, narrow fingers moved up, playing lightly over her ribs. She gave herself to the kiss, devouring him as he devoured her.

With a sharp tug, he pulled her into his lap. She gasped into his mouth, stunned to find herself suddenly seated on his hard thighs, her legs dangling over the edges of the chair. Her damp sex pressed against the hard ridge of his cock. Her heated body responded with a prickling rush of sensation, drawing her nipples to hard points. It didn’t matter that his jeans and her leggings separated them, what mattered was the delicious pressure of that hard cock. She squirmed in his lap to position that bulge where she wanted it, wrapping her arms around his neck while he clamped her body to his. Her breasts flattened into him, the thin lace of her bra rubbing her hardened nipples.

He slid one hand under the hem of her sweater. His palm moved up and he pushed the lace of her bra down, bumping the topaz aside to free her breast. The point of her nipple stabbed into his palm, and the slight rasp of his calloused skin against the sensitive flesh sent shivers through her.

He lifted his mouth from hers, his breath already coming in choppy pants. “Yeah. Completely hot.”

Buy link: CLICK HERE
A review: CLICK HERE
Website: http://www.scorchedsheets.com

posted by Tawny Taylor at 8:54 AM | 1 comments

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Hard Harvest by Selah March


Up next is HARD HARVEST by Selah March. What a title. And what an excerpt! It made me shiver. In a very good way.

Enjoy!

Book 7 in the “Three Kinds of Wicked” multi-author series.

Link to series website: http://threekindsofwicked.com/books.html

Purchase link: http://eredsage.com/store/Hard_Harvest_Selah_March_eBook.html

My website: http://selahmarch.com


CHAPTER FIVE

She spent most of the day in the fields and came home hot and worried about the lack of rain. Thoughts of lost crops and the coming winter with no money to buy feed for the livestock or food for the table kept her occupied till after supper, when she looked out the window over the kitchen sink and saw that dusk had crept up and caught her unaware.


Her brothers had already said good night, turning in right after supper to be up before the sun for milking and other chores. David, on the other hand, hadn't appeared at the supper table at all. Was he skipping meals and starving himself on purpose? Trying to make a point or punish her somehow? She didn't know him well, but that seemed outside the shape of his character.

Maybe he dreaded their next encounter as much as she did. Either way, she had no desire to keep her promise to Trey. But keep it she would, damn her own stubborn pride to hell and back again.


Forty-five minutes later, with the dust and grime of the day washed from her skin and a few gulps of her grandpa's hooch sloshing in her belly, she stepped barefoot into the barn. The full skirt of mother's blue linen dress swished about her knees, and the evening breeze touched her in new and ticklish places. Was it the liquor's influence that made her ditch her underwear at the last second? Probably. She tried not to regret it now, as she stood at the bottom of the ladder and stared up into the dimly lit loft. When she licked her lips, she tasted whiskey and the cherry-flavored lip balm she'd dug from the pocket of an old denim jacket.


"Hannah?"


At the sound of Trey's voice, she gripped the ladder's rungs and hauled herself up. Her heart pounded to the beat of the butterfly wings in her stomach, but she kept climbing till she could poke her head and shoulders through the hole in the loft floor.


David sat on the edge of his cot with his hands clasped between his knees and his face averted. Trey stood just outside the lantern's glow, watching them both. Neither man smiled, or greeted her, or offered her a hand. The eerie quiet dropped like a weight on her shoulders.


She took a breath. The liquid heat of the whiskey had worked its way into the muscles of her legs and back, loosening and warming her even as it gave her the courage to push herself up and into the loft.


She faced down the men with her hands on her hips and the scent of ripe hay in her head. "Well, you've got me here. I hope it was worth the trouble."


Now Trey smiled, but Hannah was more interested in the way David's gaze traveled from her dust-covered toes to the hem of her dress, then to the tops of her breasts curving above the square neckline. When his eyes finally made it to her face, she blurted the first thing that came to mind: "Are you sure about this, David? No second thoughts?"


His eyes widened behind his glasses, and his throat made a dry, clicking sound when he swallowed. He looked away before he spoke. "Yes, I'm sure."


"All right, then." Trey stepped out of the shadows. He gestured toward the straight-backed chair that stood a few feet from David's cot. "Have a seat, Hannah."


Hannah hesitated, ready to argue. Part of her enjoyed Trey's highhanded ways, the part that had thrilled at giving up momentary control to his hands and mouth. But she was still the boss in her own barn, on her own land.


"Hannah?"


"I'm thinking about it."


Trey crossed his arms over his chest, the threat of a smirk twitching in the corners of his mouth. A few seconds passed. In the end, curiosity won out over pigheaded pride. She crossed the creaking floorboards to the chair and sat.


Trey turned toward David. "Last night, we gave you a free show in the kitchen. Now it's Hannah's turn to watch."


David blinked at him, but didn't answer.


"Stand up." Trey's tone was kind, but he looked at David with an expression of patient, practiced determination on his face that made Hannah wonder if this wasn't his first rodeo. How many other couples had Trey "helped" this way?


The cot's rusty springs creaked as David got to his feet. Trey approached him, and David held his ground. Hannah watched as emotions flickered across his face like light playing over still water. When the two men were mere inches apart, she compared them, Trey's compacted muscles of a prizefighter and David's sleek form of a long-distance swimmer.


"Remember what I told you last night?" Trey asked, his voice pitched just loud enough for Hannah to hear. "Remember when I said you're a man like any other, with a man's heart, mind and body?"


David jerked his head in something like a nod.


Trey smiled and used the tip of his finger to touch David's forehead. "You just need to find the connection between here," he said and used the same finger to poke at David's chest, "and here. Not to mention here." He let his hand drop so it brushed the region below David's belt for a bare instant. "Take off your clothes."


"What? No!" David looked horrified.


"You agreed to let me help you."


David cleared his throat. "Yes, but you didn't say anything about nudity."

"I think it was implied." Trey leaned in closer, trapping David between himself and the cot. The silence stretched taut, broken only by the restless shift of the cows abiding beneath them. This was the critical moment, the make-or-break instant.


Hannah gripped the seat of the chair. "David, please."


David flinched. His eyes flashed to hers. Whatever he saw in her face made his own expression harden to a grim, pained resolve. When he spoke, he addressed only Trey. "Would you step back and give me some room, please?"


It took him nearly a minute to fumble out of his shirt, boots, socks and trousers. At the end of it, he stood in nothing but his shorts and glasses.


"Those, too." Trey indicated both underwear and eyewear.


David glared, but removed the glasses and shorts and tossed them onto the cot. All at once, Hannah found it impossible to look at her own husband. How stupid was that? Instead she stared at Trey, watching as his gaze wandered over David's body.


"See how beautiful he is, Hannah? All man. Every inch of him."


Hannah let herself glance at David in time to see him lift his chin and square his shoulders in defiance, like a stag brought to bay. Her breath caught in her throat. Trey was right. He was beautiful, his skin the color of winter-pale wheat, his hair like autumn corn, and his eyes the perfect shade of summer grass.


Still, she found she couldn't make her eyes travel lower than the firm muscles bracketing David's navel, which was even more ridiculous. She'd seen his privates before, sort of. In silhouette, as he unbuttoned his trousers before she lifted her nightgown.


This was different, yes, but she was hardly an ignorant, blushing virgin. She'd grown up on a farm, for gravy's sake, where sex was an everyday event. And he was her husband.


On the other hand, David had barely managed to look her in the face since she'd climbed up to the loft.


What a pair they made. Whatever kind of help Trey was offering, they were in no shape to turn it down.


Trey reached out and pressed a hand against David's chest. "His heart is pounding, fast and strong. He's strong all over-his body, his mind and his will. There's a resilience in him, like a tree that bends but doesn't break."


David scowled. "You know I can hear you, right? I'm standing right here. Kind of hard to miss, what with all the nudity."


Hannah bit her lip to repress a grin. The good doctor had a sense of humor. How had she missed it? Biting and sarcastic, true, but she could live with that.


She watched as Trey slid his hand from to David's chest to his shoulder and pulled him forward a shuffling step or two. Then Trey moved to stand between David and the cot. David shuddered, his muscles jerking like the pelt of a startled animal, and Hannah knew Trey had pressed himself all along the length of David's naked body.


David kept on avoiding her gaze, as if he were ashamed. It made her want to slap the stupid right out of his handsome head. They needed this. Without it, their marriage would fail, disappear, be made null and void by some faceless Commission drone who didn't know and didn't care what they might mean to each other if only David would loosen up and give them half a chance.


Trey ran his large, tanned hands over David's shoulders and down his arms. "Now I'm going to touch you, and Hannah's going to watch."


Hannah felt the words like a punch to her gut. She made a soft sound, something between a moan and a whimper, and David's eyes locked on her face as if he'd only just noticed her sitting there. She stared at him and licked her lips.


Trey's hands moved again, and she followed their progress as they drifted down to David's hips. The circle of light cast by lantern threw everything into sharp relief, and she beheld her husband in all his glory for the first time. A remnant from the biblical Song of Solomon wandered through her head. As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons.

For all his obvious agitation, David was aroused. The sight of him made Hannah press her knees together and shift on the hard surface of the chair.


"Do you touch yourself when you're alone, David?" Trey's question was almost clinical. Except for the gritty pitch of his voice, he might've been another scientist taking notes on a laboratory subject.


David cleared his throat again, never looking away from Hannah's face. "That's a stupid question. Everybody does."


"Yes," Trey agreed, "everybody does. But I want to know how you touch yourself." He wrapped his big hand around David's erection, fisting him tight. David's body stiffened as if in protest, and he made a choked noise, but he didn't fight Trey's grip. Hannah watched, fascinated, as another man caressed her husband in the way she'd never had the courage to try.


"Hannah likes this," Trey whispered down the tight column of David's neck. "Her breaths are shallow. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes are dilated, all the fully documented signs of arousal." He directed his dark gaze at Hannah. "Show him. He needs to see how much you want him."


To Hannah, it seemed as if her hands moved to the hem of her skirt without her knowledge or permission. All she knew was weight of David's gaze on her and the sound of Trey's voice coaxing her to give up her inhibitions. The breeze from the open haymow was cool on her thighs and belly as she lifted her skirt.


Trey laughed, a deep, rough sound that buzzed to her marrow. "You two are full of surprises."


Hannah could only imagine he meant her lack of underwear. She was too busy watching David's reaction, the flush that traveled from his face to redden his neck and chest, and the way his breathing quickened. The weight of his attention felt heavy on her skin and molten in that empty place between her legs.


Her eyes locked on David's, she let her fingertips trail over the flesh of her inner thigh. The sensation made her tremble. David gave an answering shudder she could see from six feet away.


"Not yet," Trey murmured and released David from his grip. "We're just getting started."


posted by Tawny Taylor at 9:09 AM | 2 comments

Friday, March 12, 2010

Cybot Awakened by Melisse Aires

This book looks like a real page-turner! Enjoy!
Tawny

SALE PAGE: http://redrosepublishing.com/bookstore/product_info.php?products_id=550






Coming February 25th, 2010 from Red Rose Publishing, the first book in the Sons of the Protectorate series.


EXCERPT

***

Kaistril dreamed. A woman was in his arms…his Mistress Sabralia, with her dark hair, dark blue eyes and white soft skin. His cock roared into hardness. He tightened his arms around the woman, pulling her closer…she was so sweet, smelling of flowers, her soft bottom cradled his straining member…

Something is wrong. His eyes snapped open in a starless night and he sat up so fast he swayed, dizzy. They were on a cushioned pallet in thick woods. A body was pressed tight against him and he knew it was his mistress, Sabralia. They were hiding from…unrest.

Something is wrong.

My name is Kaistril. No! I am Qy, in service to my mistress.

He couldn’t remember…but Kaistril seemed right.

He shook his head to try and clear his confusion
.

The air reeked of smoke. The fire, soldiers, danger, weapons…

His head ached, as did his stomach. He was thirsty. He reached into Sabralia’s food basket and got a fruit drink, which helped a little, but his mind was still clouded.

They were in the woods…a fire at the palace…

Something is wrong. Breathe deeply, calm yourself, a voice he recognized as being from his past, told him. He closed his eyes and breathed in through his mouth and out through his nose, concentrating.

There was a sound. It was important. He listened.

Far away, so far away he could only feel the vibrations through the earth—death! He slid off the pillows onto the forest floor and placed his palms on the ground—

−The Strafe, attacking his Tier, the entire contingent in their observation units, dying. Burning, blinding white flashes, men falling dead in an instant, dead bodies everywhere… He knew it well. It had killed his men. The Strafe was coming!

“Wake. Wake.” He hauled the sleeping woman into his arms. “We need to get down to the beach, to one of the caves.”

A timer went off in his brain, the timer he was to obey, for his nightly maintenance. He groaned with confusion. No− The caves! He threw the queen over his shoulder with her blankets over her, and loped toward the beach, ignoring her protests and squirms. She was round and soft, not strong, not a warrior woman and he was able to subdue her struggles easily without harming her. In the far distance the Strafe slashed through the air, lighting the way with its killing white light, and the woman screamed in shock, her whole body going tight.

“Underground. The Strafe,” he grunted. She probably had no idea what the Strafe was. But he knew. He remembered. Fierce triumph filled him. He remembered and they would not kill this warrior, or his queen.

“What’s wrong?” she cried.

The soft voice of his mistress sent a shiver down his spine. His body was still hard, clamoring for her touch, despite the raging light. The danger, the excitement flooding his body, his memories, the woman in his arms. He paused for a moment, suddenly overwhelmed with confusion.

The Strafe moved closer, so its individual tines of killing light were visible.

“We need to get to one of the tidal caves. The Strafe will kill us.”

“The Strafe,” Comprehension colored her words. He sat her down, pulled the blanket from her face then grabbed her hand and they raced down the beach.

He found the section of beach with shallow caves. They’d explored them before, collecting shells… Once inside he shoved her against the back wall of the cave and covered her body with his own.

“The Strafe doesn’t go through soil. We might live if we …”

His words trailed off. She was staring at him, mouth agape, eyes huge and dark in the night.

“You are different.” His mistress sounded faint.

“Yes. There is no time. Close your eyes,” he said. “The light can damage your vision.” He pulled the blanket over them, holding it cupped to her eyes with one hand while he did the same to his own with his other hand.

Kaistril listened carefully but could hear nothing now except their breathing, heavy with fear. The Strafe was concentrating on populated areas, though it would eventually sweep outlying areas for strays.

Bright, deadly tines stroked the beach and suddenly clashed around them, lighting even their closed, blanket covered eyes. They sank to the ground as the light sizzled just feet from them, close enough they could feel its strange heat. It disappeared, though they could still hear it.

Qy ran out of their shelter. The Strafe had returned to the Palace area. “Come on. It has gone straight back to the city. This is our chance!”

He grabbed her by the hand and ran up the beach, dragging her along.

“Qy, where are we going?” she wailed.

He paused for a split second, then continued pulling her along.

“Staying alive is the plan,” was all he said. No need to tell her it’s a gamble. Soon the Harvesters will be here to kill those that remain alive…









posted by Tawny Taylor at 8:38 AM | 0 comments

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Triad of Hope By Adelle Laudan

Once again, I am thrilled to offer another wonderful excerpt for you all to enjoy! Isn't this cover absolutely GORGEOUS?!

Triad of Hope Med


Triad of Hope



Juliana, Rosa, and Shani—three very different women with a common bond: all are on a journey of healing, self-discovery, and hope. Join them as they conquer fears, forgive past wrongs, and come to terms with their inner selves. Do difficulties in life really make one stronger? Can a shattered heart ever heal enough to love again? When one’s life seems hopeless, what lengths will one go to find hope?



Excerpt from ‘Shani’



Jake sat at the small table in Mitch’s kitchen of sorts and studied the sleeping Shani’s face. Gone was any trace of the emotional drama of the previous night. Smooth, like creamy chocolate, her face void of lines or scars, lips full and inviting. Long lashes rested on cheeks tainted pink. Under the blanket, her chest rose and fell in rhythm with the beating of his heart.


How long had he loved her? He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t. All those years through school they were practically inseparable. They’d been the best of friends, and the whole while he’d wished for more but didn’t dare cross the invisible line for fear of rejection and ruining the friendship he’d come to rely on.


As if overnight, she was gone. Her mother died, and her father set off on his Harley. Shani did what she did best when things got tough—she ran. Without so much as a good-bye, she left. A couple of months later, he received a short note saying she was fine and she missed him. Did she miss him? Unfortunately not enough not to marry someone else. He spent many months angry and hurt, but he immersed himself in his studies, and when he made enough money, he bought his own bike.


Shani mumbled in her sleep and rolled to her side, her arm flopped over the side of the couch. Now she hated the one thing he found most beautiful about her appearance…the color of her skin. How tragic. He prayed her mother’s words would change her opinion. Becca had a way of making everything seem all right, even in the midst of chaos.


The door to Mitch’s room opened, and he appeared in the doorway, his yellowed hair a tangled mess sprouting this way and that. He ran a weathered hand through his wiry beard and yawned. Dark circles under his wise old eyes told of a restless night’s sleep. How he loved Shani, the proof never more evident in the toll her pain had taken on him.


Mitch placed a finger to his lips and crossed the distance between them.


“Coffee’s hot,” said Jake in hushed tones.


His old friend smiled and took a cup from the cupboard and filled it. He held the coffee under his nose and inhaled deeply. “Mm, nectar of the gods.”


Jake raised his mug in cheers.


“How’d you sleep?” Mitch joined him at the table.


“Very little. Your floor leaves much to be desired.” His hand moved to the small of his back, and he winced.


“The things we do for love.”


Jake pressed his lips together, stifling a response. He couldn’t chance Shani overhearing something he wasn’t ready to divulge. “Do you think she’s going to be okay?” He stared out the window.


Silence permeated the room for a moment.


“She’s tougher than you know.” Shani peered over the back of the couch, staring intently into his eyes.


“Ain’t that the truth.” Mitch chuckled and shuffled over to the stove. “Coffee?”


“About a gallon of it.”


He’d always admired her resilience. Maybe she’s going to be all right after all. How the hell does anybody get past something like that?


She stood in front of the fireplace, her arms stretched up over her head. Damn. His gaze travelled the length of her, to the roundness of her breasts, hard flat stomach…and that ass…. Jake shivered involuntarily and sucked air through clenched teeth, forcing his gaze from her. He stared out the window again, counting back from ten, willing his racing pulse to slow down.


Shani strolled over to the window and pulled back the curtain. “Looks like a nice day for a ride. How about it?” she asked over her shoulder.


“How about some coffee first?” He pushed the empty chair out with his foot. She shook her head and poured a coffee before straddling a chair at the head of the table. Her eyes clouded as her gaze settled on the unopened envelope wedged between the salt and pepper shakers.


“I can’t deal with that right now.” She slid the letter under a plastic place mat. “I need to feel the wind on my face. Maybe we’ll get back to all that later.” She tossed back half of her cup’s contents in one swallow and set it down with a decisive bang. “I’m going for a ride, Mitch. Is it okay if I come back here later?”


“You know my door is always open, Shani.”


She rounded the table and kissed his forehead. On her way to the bathroom, she looked over her shoulder at Jake. “I’m going to get cleaned up and then I’m heading out…with or without you.”



Read more at http://adellelaudan.com/books/triad-of-hope/


Red Rose Publishing http://redrosepublishing.com/bookstore/product_info.php?products_id=625



posted by Tawny Taylor at 8:20 AM | 0 comments

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Scent of Cin by Ella Drake

This one sounds absolutely fascinating! *adding to TBB list*

I'll say one thing about Cobblestone Press. They do some of the most amazing cover art!
Tawny

Scent of
Cin

by Ella Drake
ISBN: 978-1-60088-469-6
published by Cobblestone Press

It took death for Cinnamon Murphy to find her love, a sexy half-demon she can't resist.

Half-demon Vedo resurrects the newly-dead Cinnamon Murphy, detective, bane of the Hellions - and all woman. Vedo needs her to find his son, product of a forced union with a powerful demoness, but Vedo gets more than he bargains for. Once Cin is no longer a shade, her scent becomes a lure his Nephilim nature can't resist. Cin finds that being raised from the dead gives her uncontrollable cravings for heat, especially for the hot man who needs her help, a man she's sworn to kill.

It's a race to the summer solstice, the stakes are for eternity, the passion is not of this world, and love is an ill afforded weakness.

Here's a small snippet, for just a taste. A longer excerpt
is available on the Cobblestone website.

***

Pulling the car over to the side of the road, Vedo ignored the
swerving and honking cars.

Cin's tension straightened her shoulders. Her intense observation narrowed to the group now a block away from the car. They slowed with their noses in the air, scenting.

"Damn. I don't have my taser or my sword," Cin said, her voice calm despite the threat.

Taser to immobilize them temporarily. Sword to decapitate them permanently. He'd seen her skill with the sword, and it was a chilling sight. Chilling not being a comfortable feeling for him, he wasn't disappointed she didn't have her sword. Of course, she shouldn't be defenseless, and he'd had them retrieved after she'd been ambushed.

"I have your weapons in the trunk."

She leaned into him and gave him a scorching kiss. Hot and greedy, her tongue entered his mouth. After too short a moment, she pulled back.

"You do have your uses," she said and gripped her knees as if to keep her hands from him.

Maybe he should keep her sword around if it got him this kind of reaction. The scalding waves that radiated from his chest outweighed any amount of chill.

The Hellions smelled Cin, blatant erections undeniable proof. They surrounded the Jag, snuffling. The woman in question remained calm, used to this behavior, but it made his skin crawl. His temper flared, and he thought he heard a growl. Impossible. He'd learned long ago to keep his feral nature in check. Cin flicked an amused glance his way, and the spiking heat in the small space proved he'd lost control.

He'd sunk to the level of the beasts outside the car.

He'd growled.

Damn.

***


Ella Drake

http://www.elladrake.com/ || twitter || facebook


posted by Tawny Taylor at 8:40 AM | 2 comments

Tuesday, March 09, 2010

Today's Excerpt: Slither by Bernadette Gardner

If the title isn't enough to make you want to take a second look at this book, check out that cover! Wow. And the excerpt...OMG.

Enjoy!
Tawny



Slither by Bernadette Gardner
Available Now: Ellora's Cave
But it HERE

Excerpt:

The bedroom was just dark enough to be sultry. The California king-sized bed bore sheets of gunmetal satin which made it look like a block of iron sitting in the middle of the room. He adjusted the lighting to give the place a warm glow from overhead spotlights set around the perimeter of the ceiling. Behind the bed was a mirror and at its foot, a black leather bench. Her missing scarf lay across the end of the mattress.

She blushed. “I accidentally left that at your shop.”
“It was no accident.”

She resented the implication. She’d been in such a hurry to escape after he’d brought her to a shuddering orgasm that she’d barely had both her shoes on when she stumbled out the back door. Acute embarrassment made her shiver.

She jumped at the feel of his fingers on her shoulders, but she managed to keep herself calm while he slid her jacket off.

He placed the garment on a high backed chair in the corner of the room and returned to walk around her in a circle. “You stand like you have a stick up your ass.”

She burst into surprised laughter. She’d expected sexual innuendo, or even an open invitation to fuck. “I knew you were charming, but wow. Way to knock a girl’s socks off.”

He faced her, wry amusement lighting his features. “It’s not just your socks I want off. How do you manage to get through life being so uptight, Miss Daniels?” He grazed her cheek with a forefinger and the feathery touch sent a cascade of awareness down her body. Next he rested his hands on her shoulders and pressed down a bit. “Drop your arms. Breathe deep. If you lock up all your muscles, you’ll impede blood flow to your brain and you’ll pass out.”

“Is this a yoga class? Because I forgot my mat.”

“Do you suffer from dizzy spells? Do you get lightheaded often?”

She did. Gramma Essie always told her that was her connection to the quaking. It drained her energy.

“No,” he said, not in response to his own question, but to her unspoken thoughts. “It’s because you clench up everything all the time. You’re suffocating yourself with your own nervous tension.”

“And how are you going to relax me?” Her impertinent question prompted him to slip his fingers into the collar of her blouse. One by one he opened the buttons, making sure to brush against her bare skin as he did so. “Oh.”

After he flicked open the last button, he spread the shirt and pushed it off her shoulders, exposing her bra. She figured he would go for that next. God, she wanted him to, but with her jaw clenched so tightly to keep from moaning aloud, she couldn’t tell him.

Maddeningly, he ignored her breasts and instead ran his hands down her abdomen to the fly of her jeans. He worked quickly to open the button and zipper and then eased the stiff denim down over her hips and thighs. She arched her back instinctively, but refused to make a sound. He helped her slip her shoes off and step out of the jeans. He squeezed her ass before stripping off her panties, and she stifled a groan. This had already gone too far. Why couldn’t he simply paint on her hand or her arm? Why did she have to be so exposed and so vulnerable to him?
She squeezed her eyes shut when he dropped a kiss on her shoulder and her knees threatened to buckle when he pulled her shirt off and dropped it on the floor. Now she wore only her bra, and he made quick work of that, opening the fastening in the back with expert fingers.
At the foot of the bed, he snagged her scarf and returned to her side. For a moment she worried that he planned to tie her up and she tensed even further. A stab of fear wormed its way through her lower belly and he must have felt it because he grunted.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I’d love to tie you up, but I won’t.” He offered her the scarf. “Cover your eyes with this. I don’t want you to watch me work. I’d rather you be surprised.” The sleek watered silk felt like heaven against her sensitive skin, but fear of losing control made her hesitate. “You can remove it any time. It’s about trust. If you trust me not to take advantage of your not being able to see, I’ll trust you not to remove the blindfold.”

She pursed her lips and considered the offer. Why not?

posted by Tawny Taylor at 9:58 AM | 1 comments

Monday, March 08, 2010

HOT excerpt: Spring Equinox by Eden Bradley

Next up is Eden Bradley's latest release. I have LOVED every Eden Bradley book I've read. And OMG, this one looks like it's a hot and scrumptious as all the rest.

Enjoy!
Tawny

My latest book from Samhain, SPRING EQUINOX, is out today! This is Book Two in my Celestial Seductions series, a four-book seasonal collection of contemporary erotic romance novellas, and each one has a special little twist.You can find Book One, WINTER SOLSTICE, at Samhain, on MBAM and on Amazon.
But back to SPRING EQUINOX. Would you like a little peek?

Once upon a time, two young lovers vowed to reunite…

Celestial Seductions, Book 2

After a bitter divorce, Isabel Asher returns to Isla de Margarita to find the only man she’s ever truly loved. Twelve years ago, on her eighteenth birthday, they made a pact to meet…if they both were free. Now she waits, wondering if Rafael Cruz will be her every fantasy come to life…or just a foolish dream.

Rafael never forgot their summer of love all those years ago. Since then, no other woman has measured up to the memory of Isabel in his arms. Their chemistry is still stunning, the sex is sizzling. The power of their memories is overwhelming. Yet it’s too soon to tell if she wants to be with him as much as he wants her.

As her time on the island grows short, their sensual play heats up, and includes a night with Rafael’s best friend. But they must decide if their passionate reunion is simply a celebration of the past…or a new beginning for lasting love.

* * *

To celebrate my release, I'm running a contest and posting an excerpt over on The Smutketeers blog, so come on by and check it out!
EXCERPT -SPRING EQUINOX-Eden Bradley- Mildly X-Rated

Silently, he moved away from her. Taking her hand, he led her across the courtyard, through a narrow, tiled walkway, to a private bungalow at one end of the hotel. Her pulse raced, her heart hammered a sensual cadence in her chest, in her sex, as she realized what was about to happen. He would finally be naked with her, touching her, just as he had done in twelve long years of fantasies.

She knew already it would be a hundred times better now, as adults, than that one lovely, sweet experience had been. It would be better than anything she had ever imagined.

He opened the heavy wood door and pulled her into the cool interior of his home. One small lamp cast a golden light over the tiled floors, the heavy beamed ceiling, the potted palms set here and there. Through a wall of windows overlooking the beach she could hear the muted roar of moon-tipped surf. But she wanted to concentrate only on him. She would explore this lovely place later.

He stood with her a moment in the entry hall, watching her, a small smile on his lush mouth. His gaze was dark on hers.

“You’re more beautiful than ever, Isabella.”

His words warmed her, but she didn’t want to talk anymore. As though he could read her thoughts, he moved in and kissed her again, his hands going to her cheeks, then sliding down to caress her shoulders, her arms. His touch was pure heat, lighting up her skin. Electric, as though every nerve was acutely attuned to his touch.

When he pushed his tongue into her mouth, just slipping it between her silken lips, opening her up, she went warm and loose all over. The warmth quickly turned to volcanic heat when his hands moved in to cover her breasts, the weight of them filling his palms. She groaned into his mouth, pushed her body closer, her hardening nipples pressing into his hands.

God, she needed to be naked with him, needed to feel his touch on her bare flesh.

“Rafael, please…I can hardly stand it.”

“I’ll give you whatever you need, Isabella. I’ll give you everything. But it’s been so long, and I want to get to know your body again.”

That name. Isabella. No one else had ever called her that, only him. His voice, and that lovely rolling accent…hearing that name on his lips sent a long, lovely shiver through her: her breasts, her sex. Her heart.

Don’t expect too much. Just be in the moment.

The moment was too lovely to ignore. He moved his hands away from her aching breasts and smoothed them over her waist, her hips, tracing the outline of her body.

“Yes, it’s still you, but more lovely curves.” He sounded almost reverent as he whispered against her mouth. “More a woman.”

His hands slid downward, his fingers moving beneath the hem of her cotton dress and roving up her thighs. The moment his hands touched her naked skin her sex went wet, drenched in heated desire.

Touch me.

“Your skin is like silk, just as it used to be.” His voice was a husky whisper, turning her on every bit as much as his hands on her body.

Then he was kissing his way down her neck, in the valley between her breasts, over her stomach through the cotton of her dress, until he was on his knees before her, his cheek against her belly. Her hands went into his hair, and it was soft beneath her fingers. She was shivering, the anticipation sharp, lovely.

His hands were on her thighs, gently kneading the skin. Then he raised the hem of her dress higher, revealing the white lace panties she wore. She wanted to keen her need to him, to beg him. But she remained silent, the waiting an exquisite kind of agony.

“There’s so much heat coming off you, querida, it drives me crazy. The scent of your desire…mi Dios…do you know what you do to me?”

All she could do was groan as he bent his head and kissed her bare stomach, just above the white lace that was so unbearably in the way.

He kept kissing her, his mouth leaving a trail of molten heat across her belly. Her hips moved forward of their own accord, pressing into the velvet warmth of his lips. Her body was on fire, the need a scorching heat that centered in her sex and spread outward, breathtaking in its intensity.

“Yes,” he said quietly between achingly soft kisses, “I think you need me, as I’ve needed you, for too long.”

His voice, his mouth on her flesh, was driving her crazy. She wanted her clothes off. She wanted that soft mouth on her breasts, on her sex, swollen and burning with need. Why wouldn’t he undress her?

When he looped a finger around the edge of her panties and pulled them in a slow, sensual sweep down over her thighs, her calves, taking his time, her legs began to shake.

On his knees, he pushed her until she felt the wall behind her, warm from the heat of the day, steadying her. Then he pushed her dress up, the fabric bunching around her waist. He was so close to her she could feel his breath on the curls between her thighs, and her pussy clenched in anticipation. She closed her eyes, let her head fall back against the wall and waited.

He didn’t move, yet she could sense the change in his breathing as he knelt before her, his face inches from her sex.

“Isabella. Move your legs apart for me. I need to see you. All of you.”

God, that voice again. She did as he asked instantly. And she felt, for the first time, the power in his command. That some part of her was giving herself over to him on every level. That she would do—willingly—whatever he asked of her.

“Ah, yes.” He brushed his fingertips over her curls, so that she could almost feel his touch, but not quite. Torture. She’d never been so wet in her life. “So beautiful. I want to taste you, querida, and I will. But later.”

“Rafael, you can’t do this to me…”

Oh God, was he really going to make her wait?

“Patience, mi cariño. I’ve waited too long to rush this.”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Perhaps I am.” He smiled up at her, that lovely smile that felt so familiar to her.

Yes, they’d waited too long. But maybe it had been necessary, to bring them together again with a little life experience under their belts. But she was too dizzy with need to think about it. Now, all she needed was him.

“Touch me, Rafael, before I lose my mind.”


posted by Tawny Taylor at 7:44 AM | 2 comments

Saturday, March 06, 2010

Some fun for Read-An-Ebook-Week! Pride and Passion

Because this week's Read An Ebook Week, I thought it would be fun to post some excerpts of a variety of books available in ebook formats. They're not going to be all mine. I just don't enjoy posting READ-MY-BOOK! messages on my blog all the time. Instead, I thought I'd offer my visitors a chance to read something they might not have seen yet.

I hope you enjoy the excerpts and discover a new-to-you author!

The first excerpt is Jenna Bayley-Burke's Pride and Passion. She's got me with the title :) By the end of the week, I have a feeling I'm going to be needing a memory card for my Nook.

Pride & Passion
Jenna Bayley-Burke

He’ll let her have control…until he’s ready to make his move.
Excerpt :

He made his way through the dark house without turning on any lights. The full moon provided just enough illumination to keep from bumping into things on his way to the kitchen. He pushed open the door and reached for the light switch, flicking it on.

Lily stood in front of the refrigerator, a carton of milk in her hand, at least until she spied him and dropped it with a gasp. His eyes widened at the sight of Lily in a pale pink nightie, her golden hair loose about her shoulders. The light material dipped low between her full breasts, delicately revealed the curve of her hips, and gave an alluring view of her bare thighs.

She wasn’t so mesmerized. She cursed, then reached for a towel on the counter and bent low to clean up the spill. Jake pulled his libido back in check and moved to help her. He took the towel from her and she stood. He had to bite back a groan at how the hem of her nightie came right into his line of sight.

“I’m sorry,” Lily said, walking around him and returning with another towel. “I didn’t expect anyone.”

“Obviously.” He finished the task and stood, enjoying the way her chest hitched with each breath as he looked down at her.

“What are you doing down here?”

“Having a glass of milk, or trying to anyway. That’s what I do when I can’t sleep.” She kept her gaze locked on his, except for fleeting moments when it dropped to his bare chest.

He grinned, glad he wasn’t the only one hyper-aware after midnight. “That’s because you sleep alone.”

Her cheeks pinked, but she recovered quickly, narrowing her eyes. “You know, I think you may be right. It’s time I find someone willing to marry the penniless virgin and cure her insomnia.”

She tried to walk past him, but he caught her arm, turned her around and pulled her flush against him. “Try it, and you’ll find my patience exhausted quickly.”

“While you expect me to live a life in perpetual understanding of your need to go through mistresses faster than socks.” She tried to shake off his hold, but he pulled her closer.

“I’ve never claimed to be a saint. But I’m not going to spend my life feeding into your insecurity. I want you, only you, and have from the moment I saw you.

“I watched you, this golden angel gliding across a room, and I wanted you to be looking for me, not one of those worthless idiots you dated. We hadn’t even met, and I couldn’t get you out of my mind. Maybe I did use your father to get closer to you. It seemed kismet that we were in the same industry. Will became my friend, but he became my partner because of you. I had no other choice. I had to protect you somehow, and you never would have looked twice at me had I not thrown myself in your way at every opportunity.”

“You’ve been watching me?” Her haughty tone cut him to the quick. He was never going to be enough for her, never going to measure up to the vapid boys always trailing after her simply because he hadn’t lived their life.

“And you’ve been watching me, wondering what it would be like if you were only brave enough to step outside your perfect world for a minute and indulge in all I can offer you.” He took a step forward, moving them both until she was backed up against the kitchen table.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Her eyes flashed with an emotion he hadn’t seen in her yet. True fear, or excitement?

“What you’ve wanted me to do since you first started watching me. You think there’s something beneath what the world sees. Maybe it’s time I show you what that is.”

*want more? Read the BooksonBoard excerpt too!


Jenna Bayley-Burke

www.jennabayleyburke.com

posted by Tawny Taylor at 9:38 AM | 1 comments

Friday, March 05, 2010

Sneak Peek!

I've had a few readers email me, asking when the next book in the Masters of Sin series is coming out. The answer...soon (I hope)! My goal is to have it finished and on my editor's desk by April 1st.

To make the wait a little less frustrating, I thought I'd share an excerpt. I hope you enjoy it!

Warning: Over 18 only, please.

Tawny
*****

From LUST'S TEMPTATION
Copyright, Tawny Taylor 2010
All rights reserved
(please do not copy or distribute without permission)

Amun Bakhoum’s dick was limp.

It was a miracle.


How many years had he suffered the unrelenting, never-ending hard-on? He couldn’t say anymore. He’d lost count after a thousand.


It was such glorious relief, so welcome, even now--especially now--as he knelt over the nude, writhing blonde, his hips wedged between her bent knees, her pussy’s heat burning against his unresponsive rod.

For once, he wouldn’t have to take, take, take. He could stand up and walk away. Overjoyed, he leaned back on his heels, caught the hand of a guy with a hard, thick cock, and pulled him toward the waiting woman beneath him.

Somewhere, close by, his blessing waited. She was the woman who would free him from the curse that had left him burning in an unquenchable carnal fire so long he couldn’t remember what it was like, thinking of anything but his need to fuck.

Where was she? Who was she?

Fastening his pants, he scanned the room, once again full to capacity with men and women giving and taking erotic pleasure of all kinds. Plain, old fashioned fucking. Erotic bondage. Oral sex. Twosomes. Threesomes. Foursomes. Normally, his blood would be boiling. The sounds of this place. The scents. The sights would be more than he could handle. A beautifully round ass over there. A pair of perfectly-formed tits over there. Tight little nipples. Softly-rounded stomach. Lips pursed in a sexy pout. Rippling muscle as a man he’d fucked last night surged forward in a hard thrust, driving his cock into a wet pussy.

But not now. Praise the goddess, not now. He could stand here, watch, listen, smell, and not lose himself. The beast within him was silent.

“Amun!”

The voice was familiar. Troi. Where? He spun around, finding Troi, the man who had suffered at his side all this time, fully dressed and smiling.

Within them lived a dark spirit, the sin of Lust. Each of them carried a part, sharing almost equally in the burden, the agony too much for one man to bear. It was almost too much for two.

Many days, Amun had believed it was.

But not now. Because there was hope now. The hope for peace.

The goddess who had delivered the spirit into them had finally given them the blessing she had promised so long ago. Amun was too overcome with relief and joy to even speak as Troi rushed toward him, eyes glimmering with unshed tears.

They embraced, now completely oblivious to the people around them. They kissed like they had never kissed before. With gentle, sweet affection. And once Amun’s throat was finally clear, he whispered, “She’s here somewhere. We have to find her.”


posted by Tawny Taylor at 5:44 PM | 0 comments
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