An Excerpt from Dear Kim

This time at Oh Get a Grip, we're talking about The Uncanny. I took the opportunity to share an excerpt from "Dear Kim," which is one of the stories I'm proudest of having written. At The Grip, you can read about some of the truth behind "Dear Kim," and then read a bit of the story. If you like what you see, I've got links at the end which will lead you to a free audio version of the story, and to Like a Chill Down Your Spine, the book it was published in.

Here's a taste of the post:

So while the uncanny part is invented (I never saw these ghosts or experienced them that way), so much of the story seems absolutely true to me when I think about it.

I have a friend who says (I’m paraphrasing) that writing speculative fiction is a way of making your metaphors very literal, and I think that’s true for me here. I am haunted, emotionally, by the friends I’ve had who inspired Kim. I am haunted, emotionally, by unacknowledged feelings and regret. And in “Dear Kim,” I turned that haunting into an uncanny truth rather than a psychological one.

***

You can read the whole post here.

Out Today: Not the Leader of the Pack

I'm so excited to share my new paranormal erotic romance with you — Not the Leader of the Pack. I'm proud of this book — it's hot, it's set in a world that fascinates me, and writing it helped me get through a rough time. I'll be doing a blog tour at the end of June, so there will be plenty of chances for me to talk more about all the things that went into putting this book together. In the meantime, here's some information (be sure to scroll down to the end to see my buy one, get one free offer).

Blurb:

Rival alphas Juli Gunby and Neil Statham want to tear each other apart — but will they do it in battle or as mates?

When Juli Gunby left Missoula, Montana, she didn’t intend to come back. Not to her exacting alpha werewolf father, and certainly not to Neil Statham, the beta who rejected Juli’s girlish advances. Her father, as usual, has other ideas, using his dying breath to pass pack leadership to his daughter. Juli resolves to carry out her duty to her father and her pack, but the one man she wants on her side has made himself her enemy.

After years of loyal service to the pack, Neil expects to take over as alpha when his mentor dies. As good as it is to see Juli again, he knows he can’t trust her. After all, she abandoned both him and the pack years ago and never looked back. Neil determines to fight for his rightful position in the pack, even if that means going up against a woman who fills him with an overwhelming urge to mate every time she walks into the room.

Someone needs to lead, and the more Neil and Juli fight, the more they attract interference from those who would control the pack and destroy the ties between them.

Buy Links:

All Romance

Amazon

Amazon UK

Bookstrand

Breathless Press

Excerpt:

"Juli. We're the only pack members who saw your father pass that ring of leadership to you." He paused to allow the significance to sink in, the bar noise around them rising to fill his silence. "You have another life in Lewistown. You have a career. You've made it clear you're not interested in this pack. We can say whatever we want about what took place in that room. He could have passed the ring to me as far as anyone else knows. No one would question that."

He would have kept talking, except that Juli wrenched herself violently out of his grasp at that point. "Not interested in this pack? We can say whatever we want?" He heard her just fine over the music despite the new distance between them. In fact, he worried who else had heard her mention the pack. And who else had seen that furry paw she'd thrust into his face. 


They both froze for a second, staring at her latest lapse of control. 


"Damn it." Juli's curse came out more as a growl than as words. 


"We need to get out of here," Neil said. "You just focus on staying cool." She knew better than to argue with him. He grabbed her hand and pulled her out, leaving their beers behind. They could finish this conversation in his truck. 


They ran for the truck like the rest of the world was on fire, and slammed the doors behind them once they got there. Juli writhed in her seat, gasping, her wolf form rippling just on the other side of her skin. Neil panted in response. He didn't normally have trouble controlling his shift, but with her beside him, so close, too much of him wanted to meet her in a place of complete abandon. He wanted to run with her under the moon, fight her for supremacy until neither cared who wound up on top or on the bottom. Then, with one last vicious pounce, he wanted to surrender to the merging of their bodies. He swallowed hard. 


Stats. He ran through the winning World Series teams for the last three decades. He tried to calculate his total career RBIs. The stream of data calmed Neil down. He started the car. "I'm going to drive us somewhere a little more private," he told Juli. "Just in case." 


"Back to the hospital." 


"You're in no shape—"


"Back to the hospital." She showed fangs. Neil didn't need that so soon after he'd regained his own control. He stopped arguing and pressed the gas. They'd go somewhere. He just needed to be driving so he had something to concentrate on besides the idea of Juli giving herself up to the beast. He needed a really good reason to remain in human form. 


The truck's cab filled with her labored breathing. Neil turned on the radio to distract himself from the sexual images the sound called up for him. He'd always avoided being alone with her, afraid to give even the appearance of impropriety. Right then, Neil wasn't sure if he was grateful for the trouble he'd saved himself or sorry as hell for what he'd missed. The instinctual attraction he felt for her was off the charts. 


He got so caught in his reverie that only Juli tugging at his sleeve alerted him that her struggles had become sobs. "Neil, can you pull over?" Her voice sounded deflated. "I'm sorry I insisted about the hospital. I'm not ready to go back there yet." 


Her obvious misery immediately pierced his sexual fog. Neil pulled the truck into a convenience store parking lot and looked at her. "Do you want a minute? I can go get some water." 


"No, it's okay." She hesitated, chewing on her top lip. "I'm obviously way out of control." 


He watched her face carefully. "About what I said in the bar... I didn't mean to offend you." 


"You just think I don't care about any of this." 


"Well, do you?" 


Her head snapped up and a bit of the wolf flickered behind her eyes again. "How can you ask me that?" 


Neil blew out a long breath. She wanted him to make his case? He could do that. "You know being pack alpha doesn't pay. What about your fancy job in Lewistown? The one that was so important you couldn't come back here to visit your dad?" 


She rubbed her eyes. "Can you try to keep the venom out of this, Neil? Jeez, you're so bitter, you'd think I failed to visit you." Bingo. But Juli continued speaking, oblivious. "Gabriel's not going to like it if I resign. He talked a lot about developing new talent when he hired me. But it's not like the Council can't run without me. This was my father's last request. Besides, the pack probably needs me more." 


He swallowed, unable to believe she had the nerve to say these things. "Maybe I'm underestimating how good you are at walking away from things. Foolish of me, since I have personal experience." Neil shook his head, uncertain if the anger surging through him was directed at himself or at Juli. "The pack needs someone really committed, Juli. Not someone who will leave again the next time it's convenient." 


She snapped her gaze to his, her eyes widening with understanding. A wave of fear rushed through him. He'd revealed too much of his personal feelings. They needed to decide about the pack first. "You were the one who rejected me, Neil," Juli said, her voice so soft he almost couldn't hear her. "All I did was move on."

Bio:

Annabeth Leong has written romance and erotica of many flavors -- dark, kinky, vanilla, straight, lesbian, bi, and menage. Her titles for Breathless Press include Not His Territory, Not the Leader of the Pack, and a contribution to the Ravaged anthology. She enjoys writing about the tension between passion and control that werewolves embody. Unfortunately, when Annabeth loses control of herself, she does not gain the power to change shape. She lives in Providence, Rhode Island, blogs at annabethleong.blogspot.com, and tweets @AnnabethLeong. She loves talking books on Goodreads, too: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5295946.Annabeth_Leong

Buy One, Get One Free Offer:


Not the Leader of the Pack stands alone, but I've written in its world before. I’d love to share the previous title, Not His Territory, with current readers. If you’d like to participate, e-mail proof of purchase of Not the Leader of the Pack, such as an Amazon receipt, to annabeth dot leong at gmail dot com and let me know your e-book format of choice. I will buy a copy of Not His Territory for the first 25 people who respond.

Behold! Cover Art for Not the Leader of the Pack

Breathless Press has one of the best cover artists in the business — the talented Victoria Miller — and she's outdone herself for my forthcoming release, Not the Leader of the Pack. Slated for release on May 31, this tells the story of two werewolves battling over pack leadership — and fighting down a powerful urge to mate. I'll be posting a lot more information in the next month.

This book is set in the same world as my previous Breathless release, Not His Territory.



Keep an eye out for excerpts and more in the month to come! In the meantime, you can warm up with Not His Territory, here.

Louisa Bacio Interview!

Louisa Bacio is here with me today, answering questions about her new release, Mirabella's Mardi Gras Menage. Enjoy!

1. Mirabella's Mardi Gras Ménage takes place in a world you've written in before. What should new readers know about the setting? 

Within New Orleans, the world of the Others – paranormals – and humans – coexist. Yet, the humans don’t really know they are there. With the vampires, there are two primary factions – those that keep their soul and are more “humane,” and those who go rogue.

The “hero” of this story, Nick, is pretty complicated. His story began in Chains of Silver, and he’s gone through a lot of changes. I don’t want to give away a lot. People can definitely pick up this novella and appreciate it. However, they’ll get more out of it if they read the others first. Right now, Nick is probably my favourite character – next to Trevor from the original story – so I’m a bit prejudiced.



2. Mardi Gras is traditionally a last chance to let loose before a period of ritual fasting. Does that theme — or others related to the holiday — get picked up in your narrative? 

Most definitely! Mirabella’s tired of being under the watch of her aunt, and she decides to get out in the world and live. It just happens to take place during the Mardi Gras activities. Pretty perfect timing, I’d say. Some conflict comes up, though, because she doesn’t quite know how to handle it.



3. Mirabella is in some ways a very innocent character — for example, she's still a virgin at the start of the book, thanks to her overprotective aunt. It impressed me that she doesn't get overshadowed by her two much more experienced lovers — especially since they have a bit of an existing relationship. What do you think keeps the relationship between the three of them balanced? 



Oh, she’s a little bit frightened by them. I had to temper her down a bit. I think it’s more of the excitement and passion of being with them that helps counter the experience aspect. Plus, there’s a level of trust there. Nick’s saved Mirabella in the past, and she’s used to being around paranormals, so she knows he’s not going to harm her.



4. The gender mix in this book (two women and a man) is different than in some of your others. Do you find the emotional shape of a romance changes when you're writing a different combination of genders? 

When the idea for Mirabella’s story came to me, I thought it would be a more traditional M/F/M. To my surprise – nope! I’ve written some lesbian stories, so the same-sex comes naturally to me. What I didn’t want to happen, though, was for Nick to bring Marguerite into the relationship. That seemed too domineering, and self-serving. Instead, I like the way it happened — that Mirabella and Marguerite got together first, and then Nick came into play.

Let me say, as a novella (which was supposed to be 20,000 words, and came in at 25k), there were more scenes I wanted to do. So, I might release a F/F excerpt at some time in the future. 



5. You've written a lot of ménage, and I'd love to get any tips you can share on how to handle the dreaded pronoun problem — I always struggle to make it clear, say, which "she" I'm talking about. 

Good place for a plug. I’m teaching a “De-Mystifying Ménage” workshop for Savvy Authors that starts today, March 25 (http://www.savvyauthors.com/vb/showevent.php?eventid=1745). The pronouns can be tricky and so can keeping the body parts in order. I’ve got some great tips from Stacey Espino – one of my fav. ménage authors – on the acrobatics. Part of it, for me is having more than pronouns or names. So nicknames or descriptions. In Mirabella’s story, Marguerite has red hair, so she became the redhead lover, etc.



6. Do you plan to continue writing in the world of The Vampire, the Witch, and the Werewolf? 

At this time, I have one more full-length title planned for the fall. The story features Jana, a non-shifting werewolf we meet in The Wolfe Pack. Tired of being an outcast, she takes off for the city and shakes up with the original Vampire, Witch & Werewolf. Let’s say she has plenty of enticing experiences in this new environment. 



7. Is there anything else you'd like to add, about Mirabella's Mardi Gras Ménage, or writing in general?
 
This story was extremely fun to write. On that note, follow your instincts with a story. Listen to your characters, and they will come alive!

Thanks so much for taking the time to answer my questions!

Thanks so much for having me here today.

****

Mirabella’s Mardi Gras Ménage
Constantly under the watchful eye of her Voodoo priestess aunt, Mirabella longs to break free during the events of Mardi Gras. Escapades draw her into the arms of Marguerite, a fiery redhead with a passion for life, and Nick, a familiar vampire who’s haunted by his transformation and past.

What starts as a new experience – a Mardi Gras Ménage – soon turns deadly, and none of their lives will ever be the same.


Available via Ravenous Romance, Amazon, Barnes & Noble and other eRetailers.

Bio

Louisa Bacio is the author of six erotic novels, including the paranormal series The Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf, and numerous steamy short stories.

Bacio enjoys soaking up the sun in Southern California, and spending time with her family. In addition to writing and editing, Bacio teaches college courses in English, journalism, film studies and popular culture.

Drop in for a visit at
http://www.louisabacio.com
http://www.facebook.com/louisabacio
http://www.twitter.com/louisabacio

Giveaway:

A .pdf of a book from my backlist. Leave a comment with a valid email address, and you’ll be entered to win.

Tour-wide:

A $20 gift certificate to an online book retailer. Use the Rafflecopter to enter.
$20 Rafflecopter Gift Card

For other stops in the tour, visit the tour page here.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

OR:
http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/OTdlMmJlNmViZjIwNzJmZDk2N2M5ZWM0NTg4NWI4OjU=/

Lakeland Heatwave Book 3: Elemental Fire by K D Grace

K D Grace has been busy lately! Here's another new release!

*****

Obsessed with revenge, KENNET LUCIAN makes a deal with a demon, a deal he comes to regret when he meets TARA STONE, head of the Elemental Coven, and a powerful witch with a desire for revenge at least as great as his. Even though the attraction between the two is magnetic and the lust combustive, Kennet must betray her to accomplish his goal, which is ultimately her goal as well; to put a final end to the demon, Deacon’s, reign of terror. But can Tara trust the man who has wormed his way into her heart and the heart of the Elemental Coven? Can she trust LUCIA, the demon with whom Kennet is allied, a demon with her own agenda. The path to Deacon’s destruction is far from clear, and the price that must be paid to be free of him forever may be too high, even for Tara Stone.

Available from:


Amazon

Amazon UK

More buy links added here as they become available: http://kdgrace.co.uk/books/lakeland-heatwave-book-3-elemental-fire/

*****

Excerpt:

The demon, Lucia, studied Kennet for what might have been ages, and he felt as though the pressure of her scrutiny would crush him.

‘I have never worn man flesh.’ She nodded down to his penis.

He blushed and surged and blushed again. His heart raced. ‘Does it make a difference?’

She shrugged, still studying his cock as though she’d never seen one before. ‘Not really. Flesh is flesh.’ On a whim, she reached out and stroked his erection, and he gasped as the touch of her shivered up his spine and blossomed bright inside his head.

She continued to touch him, but her eyes were now locked on his face, and he tried desperately not to thrust against her. ‘I am only touching your cock, Kennet Birch, and it is all you can do to keep from spilling your seed at my feet.’

‘That is the most sensitive part,’ he breathed. ‘Of a man, I mean.’

She moved closer and ran a splayed hand up over his ribs. And he did spill his seed with a desperate gasp as though he could never get enough oxygen again. And he was embarrassed and terrified and angry, and it was as though the whole range of emotions exploded in his head in an instant. Then she leaned in and brushed her lips against his, and for a split second the world flashed before his eyes more vivid, more perfect, more complete than he had ever seen it before. He knew things, he saw things, he felt things, things beyond him. And he would have dropped again to his knees, but he couldn’t, not held in her gaze as he was.

‘I have barely touched you and you are overwhelmed, Kennet Birch. Do you really think you can survive my possession of you?’

He forced himself to hold her gaze, trembling suddenly as though he were in the grips of some powerful illness. All of him ached, and he knew the real world was bleeding through. There was very little time. ‘I won’t survive if you don’t possess me. My coming to you has guaranteed that.’ He wrapped his arms around himself as the shakes became more violent. ‘You said it yourself, I have nothing to lose.’

‘And why would I want a sick and broken male body?’ She asked. Her eyes blazed in the dance of firelight that always seemed so close to her.

‘If you possess me, you can heal me,’ he said. ‘And anyway, if you possess me and I die, well it really doesn’t matter at this point.’

For an eternal moment she studied him. She studied him until he looked away. His head was fuzzy, his body ached even in the dream world. He couldn’t hold much longer.

She lifted his chin once again so that he met her gaze, and the shakes stopped. The pain went away. He felt his head clear.

‘If I do what you ask of me, even though you live, your life is forfeit. You know this?’

‘I know,’ he breathed. ‘It doesn’t matter.

‘You say that now in your hour of need. But when that passes, when you are whole and stronger and healthier than you have ever dreamed possible, when your heart heals and you learn to love again, you won’t be so anxious to let go of what is rightfully mine when the time comes.’

He suddenly felt more pain than he knew existed in the whole world, and none of it was physical. He inhaled breath that felt like shards of stone. ‘I’ll never know love again. I’ll never know life again, so there’s really nothing you can take from me that isn’t already long gone.’

Her gaze softened, and somehow he found that infinitely comforting. Then she moved closer and kissed him, slowly, languidly, as though they had all the time in the world, and his cock was hard again. She stepped back from him. One shrug and the robe of fire fell away, and the glow of her body flashed bright, then dimmed and steadied until he could see details, erect nipples atop high breasts, rounded hips, a golden splash of curls at the juncture of her thighs. ‘I am not like him,’ she said softly. ‘It gives me no pleasure to make those who dwell in the flesh my puppets. You will be, how is it you put it these days, you will be in the driver’s seat.’ She took him into her arms and kissed him hard, and when he feared he would disgrace himself again with his cock pressed up tight against the top of her belly, she pulled away. ‘However,’ she said. ‘If I grant your request, then I will possess you. All of you. You will belong to me, your life will mine.’ Her gaze was painfully bright. ‘And if you earnestly wish to be rid of Deacon, then you will do as I say for as long as it takes us to accomplish our task, and it will take time. I know him. You don’t. I’m his equal. You’re not. And one more very important thing, Kennet Birch.’ She stroked his hair gently and whispered against his lips. ‘Never, never forget how badly I can hurt you if you defy me.’ Then she guided his hand down over her pubic curls. ‘If my terms are not acceptable to you, then you must return to your body and face your fate.’

Boldly, brazenly, he slid a finger down low and circled her clit, and her eyes fluttered. ‘If it weren’t acceptable to me, I wouldn’t be here,’ he answered.

She took his hand and guided him back to a chair that appeared from out of nowhere. It looked like a golden throne with no arms. What? Was he to petition her? He didn’t understand. But it was no throne at all. She pushed him down on it and stood before him caressing her breasts until her nipples were stiff and swollen. Then she raised one perfect leg and set her elegant Botticelli foot on his thigh, affording him a view of her wet and fiery depths. ‘I do not enter through your breath, Kennet Birch,’ she said. ‘As sex is your magic, so is it mine. You will go in through me, inside out. And your hunger for me will pull me into you when your libido surges brightest.’

And he was so hungry for her. She filled his head and his body with an aching want that even if he were not a practitioner of sex magic, he would understand was not mundane. And in his case, the fear that he would die if he didn’t have her here and now was a very real one. That he might die even if he did, that her possession might be too much for him, well that was a risk he was more than willing to take.

‘Are you certain this is what you want, Kennet Birch?’ she asked him as she moved onto his lap, positioning herself, opening her sex with her fingers.

‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.’ Even as he said it, he realized how silly that sounded, since either way his life as he’d known it was over.

‘Very well then.’ She settled to the point of contact, to the point at which he could just feel the head of his penis against the resistance of her opening. He reached for her breasts, and with the hand not busy between her legs, she cradled his head and drew him near so he could nurse. The electrical shock through his body caused him to jump and jerk, and at that very instant she settled onto him, sheathing him tightly, deeply, and he knew he was dying. This was the point of no return. It was as though the tight wet pull of her swallowed him whole.

Then she cupped his chin and held his face again so he couldn’t look away from her shining eyes. Her voice was like warm honey, thick and sweet, and he felt the sound of it in his very marrow, in his very soul. ‘You are mine, Kennet Birch. No longer are you your own. I possess you, body, soul and life force. Even in name you are now mine, Kennet Lucian. You are mine until I have no further use for you, until I have used you up.’ She gripped him hard and he exploded inside her and the world blew a part into tiny particles and disappeared like flecks of dust in the darkness.

****

‘Bloody Hell! Dr Allen! Doctor Allen! Get over here. Now!’

Kennet inhaled delicious, abundant air as though he’d just remembered how to breathe. Then he fought his way up from under an unruly sheet to sit up on the bed. A woman and a man in hospital scrubs stood either side of him, holding him, and there was chaos and someone was yelling. It took him a second to register that it was him yelling over and over again, ‘Where the hell am I? Where the hell am I?’ And then the bright lights, the gurney with a body shrouded in a sheet next to him all came into focus. ‘Jesus! What the fuck am I doing in the morgue?’

The woman in scrubs standing next to him looked pale and her hands were unsteady. ‘Mr. Birch,’ she said, doing her best to stay calm. ‘You were pronounced dead almost fifteen minutes ago.’

*****

Bio:

K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she, cuz otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening or walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband recently walked the Coast to Coast rout across England. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots.

K D has erotica published with Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis, books one and two of her Executive Decisions Trilogy are now available.

Find K D Here:

Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/
http://gracemarshallromance.co.uk/

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KD_Grace

Not the Leader of the Pack

I'm thrilled to announce that my Breathless Press title, Not His Territory, is getting a sequel!

I love the world of that book, and am glad to revisit it. Not His Territory is a paranormal romance set in the Northwestern United States. There, the werewolves chafe under the strict control of the legalistic Werewolf Council. Though the Council claims to be protecting the interests and safety of werewolves, many feel it's trying to legislate the wolf right out of the members of the packs. Against this backdrop, primal urges boil over into romance, sex, and rebellion.

Not the Leader of the Pack, as it's currently titled, introduces a new pack and a new romance. If you read the original, which is set in Big Timber, Montana, you may recall that Raul at one point refers to "the situation in Missoula." Not the Leader of the Pack tells the story behind Raul's comment:

When Juli Gunby left Missoula, Montana, she didn't intend to come back. Not to her father, who became ill-tempered after being abandoned by his mate, and certainly not to Neil Statham, the pack beta who rejected Juli's girlish advances. But a trip to her father's deathbed threatens to become a permanent stay when the old man uses his dying breath to charge Juli with pack leadership. Juli wants to fulfill his last request but Neil, feeling betrayed that the responsibility isn't passed to him, threatens to lead the pack to revolt if Juli becomes alpha. Neil and Juli can't compromise, and the more they fight, the more their old feelings of attraction rise to the surface. It's clear they're going to tear each other apart eventually, but it remains to be seen whether they'll do it as rival alphas fighting for leadership or as lovers in the throes of passion.

For Not the Leader of the Pack, I sank into the world a lot more -- this book is about four times the length of Not His Territory. I can't wait to tell you more about it as release approaches (and I'm dying to see what delicious cover Breathless makes for this).

The Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf: Mirabella’s Mardi Gras Ménage

In case you didn't get a chance to celebrate Mardi Gras on Tuesday, this post from author Louisa Bacio might give you that much-needed taste of New Orleans. Enjoy!

****

Blurb:

Constantly under the watchful eye of her Voodoo priestess aunt, Mirabella longs to break free during the events of Mardi Gras. Escapades draw her into the arms of Marguerite, a fiery redhead with a passion for life, and Nick, a familiar vampire who’s haunted by his transformation and past.

What starts as a new experience – a Mardi Gras Ménage – soon turns deadly, and none of their lives will ever be the same.

ISBN-13: 978-1-60777-547-8

Available from:


Ravenous Romance

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Barnes and Noble

And all other good eBook retailers.

*****

Excerpt:

“What are you doing living here?” she asked.

He’d asked himself that question many times over in the past few months. Nick had been used to living with others for all of his life. Being alone was quite different.

“After Silver and I broke up, it didn’t feel right to keep living with Lawrence, Trevor, and Lily,” he explained.

She nodded, her eyes clearing as more time passed. “I can understand that, but I’m surprised Lawrence let you go.”

“As my sire, he can pretty much watch me wherever I’m living. I’m sure if I were to go off the deep end, he’d get some type of psychic notice,” Nick explained. “It’s strange. It feels like I don’t have privacy at times, and at others I’m totally alone.”

She cocked her head to the side, studying him. Over the past two years of knowing Mirabella, Nick didn’t quite know what to think of her. She’d always been in the presence of her aunt, who was quite overpowering. Mentally, it was hard to separate memories of the two of them. The one time he had rescued her with Trevor, Mirabella had been totally passed out—under the influence of some other type of drug, or spell, or supernatural creature. In other words, she’d definitely not been herself.

“So how come we keep meeting this way?” Nick teased. “You always seem to be running into trouble.”

“Let’s just say I’m not very street smart,” she said. “Tante Teresa has kept me isolated a bit too much. Don’t know how to make it on my own in such large crowds, but I’m starting to feel like I need to escape the prison of her watchful eye.”

“Well, you picked a hell of a way to experience it,” Nick said. “It’s not full Mardi Gras yet, but these crowds building up to those events are almost as bad. You have to be careful on the streets.”

“I’m learning that. It’s a much different world to be out there than in the store.”

“I can’t believe Teresa let you out either. She’s gotta know what it’s like out there.”

A flush brightened Mirabella’s cheeks, and Nick thought about how gorgeous she looked in his bed, the contrast of her darker skin tone to the pale blue sheets. With all the mixed-breed genetics in New Orleans, both of them looked to be of Creole heritage. True, his coloring was a bit more pale now that he was dead and all. Mirabella’s skin shimmered in the moonlight.

“I might have slipped out while she slept,” she admitted. “The lure of the music drew me out, and I wanted to see what it was like.”

Nick was experiencing a lure all of his own. Her luscious lips drew him in. She caught him watching her, and she licked a droplet of water off her bottom lip. He sat on the edge of the bed, and she leaned toward him, her eyes half-mast.

Her breath smelled sweet, like fresh almonds mixed with vanilla. He shouldn’t kiss her. She was too young and too naïve. But while his head told him to step away, his desire took over, craving the physical connection.

At this moment, though, with her ensconced within his bed, the physical possibilities loomed endless. No one knew she was here. They could do whatever they desired.

Softly, his lips brushed against hers. He slipped his hand around the back of her neck, drawing her in closer and holding her steady. He probed her mouth with his tongue, requesting entrance, and she more than willingly opened beneath him.

She sighed against his mouth. Warmth. Vitality. Life.

All the traits a beautiful young woman possessed and a vampire like him lacked.

“I’d better take you home,” he said, giving one last effort to be a gentleman.

“What if I don’t want to go?”

“I’m trying to do what’s best here,” he said. He made a move to get off the bed, and she followed him, her body curling into his. Her warmth enveloping him.

“Best for whom? Not you or me,” she said. “I want more of your kisses.”

*****


Bio:

Louisa Bacio is the author of six erotic novels, including the paranormal series The Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf, the 1Night Stand A Date with Death and numerous steamy short stories.

Bacio enjoys soaking up the sun in Southern California, and spending time with her family. In addition to writing and editing, Bacio teaches college courses in English, journalism, film studies and popular culture.

Drop in for a visit:

http://louisabacio.blogspot.com
http://www.louisabacio.com
http://www.facebook.com/louisabacio
http://www.twitter.com/louisabacio

*****



Mardi Gras Prize Package (ends 2/28/2013)

Mardi Gras package includes Kitchen Witch spices, beads, fleur di lis cookie cutter, mask, etouffee mix. Shipping to the U.S. Value is worth $20 + the cost of shipping. I reserve the right to substitute the prize in case product is not available. If the winner is international, they can choose a $15 gift card to either Amazon or Barnes & Noble.
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Kinky Boots by K D Grace

God knows I am a sucker for some kinky boots. Count me in! Here's some info to match that hot cover (and, by the way, I wouldn't mind a link to the shoes that model is wearing...)

****

After a sizzling encounter in DEMON HEELS, a quirky all-night shoe store, with the store’s hot owner, FINN MASTERS, JILL HART walks away in the most gorgeous boots ever. Her new boots come with an unexpected bonus, a sexy demon named ELEANOR, who’s looking for a good time. All she lacks is a body, and Jill’s will do nicely.

Jill quits her dead-end job and, not knowing what’s come over her stops by the nearest pub intent on doing tequila shots until she falls off the stool. Instead she does FINN MASTERS in the beer garden, unwittingly participating in her first ever threesome. The boots were the bait, the timing was right and Eleanor has new digs. It’s Finn job to prevent Eleanor’s misbehaving. His failure means he’ll have to ride shotgun and do damage control until Eleanor moves out at the next full moon.

With Eleanor in residence, Jill’s bolder, sexier, willing to take risks. But is she a whole new Jill, or is it just demon courage? And how will Finn feel about her when she’s just plain Jill again? Will the maddeningly magical ménage make Jill’s dreams come true, or will it break her heart?

Available from:


Amazon


Amazon UK

More links will be added here as they become available.


*****

Excerpt:

There was a soft knock on the door and Meinrad entered the room with several hanks of what looked like ordinary rope. He nodded his greeting to Finn, then his gaze came to rest on Jill, and she felt her entire body blush at his inspection. ‘Turn around,’ he said.

She obeyed.

He made some sound low in his throat that could have passed as either approval or not. Then he placed a large hand on her shoulder and turned her back to face him. She noticed he wore the Kinky Boots uniform T-shirt stretched tight across his very broad chest. The shop name was punctuated by the hard pressure of nipples on muscular pecs. The black jeans he wore rode low on his hips. The wave of lust that rushed over her was staggering. How had she not noticed how sexy he was?

Then Finn moved to stand beside him, and she understood. Even though Meinrad was by far the larger man, Finn dominated the room. Finn dominated the space. Finn dominated every second of the last twenty-four hours of her life, as though he had shoved his way in and pushed everything else out. It did things to her, that thought, things that were way beyond lust, things that were a lot more frightening than being possessed by a demon.

He stood gazing down at her from some neutral distance that made her feel very much alone, as though the world and everyone in it had receded, leaving her to await her fate. Eleanor was keeping a low profile. Finn spoke without preamble. ‘Unless something’s hurting you, while Meinrad’s binding you, you’re not to speak. You’re only to move when he moves you. You’re to do exactly as he says. You’re to accept what he does to you in total passivity. Is that clear?’

‘Is he going to fuck me?’ She was embarrassed the minute she said it but it was too late to take it back.

‘If I want him to, yes,’ Finn said.

If Finn wanted him to. Dear God, what was she doing? Suddenly she felt unsteady on her feet. She didn’t know Meinrad. Not like she knew Finn. And yet the thought of the big man hammering her with his enormous cock while she was all trussed up was at least as exciting as it was uncomfortable. The thought that he would do so only at Finn’s bidding excited her even more.

‘There’ll be no safe word,’ Finn continued. ‘All you have to do is tell Meinrad to stop. Or if at any time he thinks you’re not fit to continue, he’ll stop, and that’ll be that. Are we clear?’

She nodded. ‘And what about you?’

‘Meinrad’s acting on my behalf.’ Finn held her in a cool gaze. ‘He’ll do as I say, and so will you, unless you choose at any point not to play.’ For a long moment he studied her, as though he might see something, perhaps some flaw, perhaps some weakness, she didn’t know what. He seemed too far away to tell. She held her breath. Waiting.

At last he blinked and stepped back, still holding her gaze. ‘I’ll ask you again, Jill. Are you sure this is what you want?’

She nodded, afraid to speak for fear her heart would jump out of her throat. Then she remembered to breathe again.

Finn said nothing. He took her hands in his and offered them to Meinrad, who took both her wrists in one huge palm and tied them across one another in a simple looped knot from which she could have easily escaped if she’d wanted. Then he led her to the bed and guided her onto it. There, he secured her hands to the headboard with several feet of slack, enough to allow him to work around her and at the same time allow Finn to observe from every angle. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed Finn had pulled a ladder back chair to the side of the bed and sat emotionlessly looking on. A quick glance was all she got before Meinrad settled her into a kneeling position facing the wall with her hands resting on the headboard.

In the beginning, it felt as though she were being decorated with rope; that’s the best way Jill could describe what Meinrad was doing to her. The rope was softer than she expected it to be and not unpleasant against her bare skin. The embarrassment she felt came, flashed hot, then passed as Meinrad looped the rope and efficiently placed knots above her breasts and then below and then tightened and cinched his efforts until the harnessing effect squeezed and pinched and offered up each of her breasts in a tight little nest of rope, like ripe fruit topped by the cherry-hard rise of her nipples. She’d always had sensitive breasts and to have them so handled and bound made her whole chest burn with a need that was replicated in her pussy.

Meinrad worked in complete silence, his hands moving over her body as though she were nothing more than the canvas for what he was creating. His touch was exacting and his rhythm as he worked was hypnotic. Early on she realised that one of his hands was on her at all times. She remembered basic knot training from her childhood days in the Girl Guides. Right over left and under and through. Left over right and under and through. Rope threaded through competent fingers, rope slid over bare skin, coiling, twisting, binding, descending right over left and left over right, pressing a column of knots down the length of her spine before looping around her waist and embracing her belly. Again. And again. Yes, she was his canvas, and what he created took its shape against her flesh, but his art didn’t happen without exacting a price from him, and in her peripheral vision, as he reached around her to secure a knot over her navel, she caught a glimpse of the erection set tight in his black jeans, and she felt the hitch of his breathing not quite hidden in the rhythm of right over left, left over right. As he crossed the ropes around her body, she felt the heat of his breath whisper along her back next to the weaving and twisting and soft swishing of the rope along her spine.

With a tug of the rope every pore of her body responded to the tightening just as he nestled a knot against the pucker of her bottom and her gasp sounded like a rush of wind in the stretching silence. Meinrad gave a little pull and her clit hardened in empathy with the pressure between her buttocks. Then without warning, he slipped an arm around her and turned her over as he pulled two strands of rope up between her legs, up tight against her upper thighs like the elastic of knickers, or a tightly cinched climber’s harness. That done, with a deft movement of his fingers he secured a knot just over her clit, and this time she cried out in the strange mix of discomfort and arousal. The whole gape of her was pressed between the two strands of rope, knotted at fore and aft like a ship, narrow and thick-hulled.

There was barely time to get used to the strange rub and pressure between her legs, or the knot that felt like the tip of a thick finger attempting to breach her bottom, before Meinrad began to bind her thighs to her lower legs and ankles, making the position in which she knelt mandatory. With each knot, with each looping of the rope, he forced her bent legs further apart until she was wide open, yet at the same time held closed by the ropes between her legs. Bound and kneeling on the bed, she tried to breathe deeply, tried to fight back the panic of her own helplessness, something she had never experienced before. She was dangerously close to hyperventilating, and Eleanor seemed to be completely absent from the whole event.

‘Shall I continue?’ Meinrad asked.

*****

K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she, cuz otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening or walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband recently walked the Coast to Coast route across England. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots.

K D has erotica published with Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include The Initiation of Ms Holly and The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Book two, Riding the Ether, is now available.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall.

http://kdgrace.co.uk

http://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor

http://www.twitter.com/KD_Grace

Release Day For Not His Territory!

That hot cover is for my new release from Breathless Press, Not His Territory.

Here's a blurb:

Werewolf investigator Raul Silva has always followed orders, but the latest might be one too many. Can he really resist his target's hot ex-wife?

After a devastating encounter with an illegally shifted werewolf, a wounded Raul Silva slumps on Chandra Williams's doorstep, begging for refuge. As an investigator for the legalistic Werewolf Council, Raul's been sent to look into instability in the local pack. Chandra's presence makes him want to succeed at his mission for personal — not professional — reasons.

The Werewolf Council disapproves. Chandra is strictly off-limits for Raul according to both the traditions and laws of the werewolves. But after a life devoted to upholding principles, Raul's instincts and desires are boiling to the surface. Can Raul resist Chandra, or will he break with everything he stands for to pursue a woman who is not his territory?

And a short excerpt:

"Can I take off his marking? I'm glad it kept you safe, but I'm not his territory. It's not his house. I pay for it."

Raul's eyes took on a strange weight. Chandra shivered, too aware of his body. "I wish it were that simple."

"Why isn't it? I can buy spray paint and cover up his mark."

"A territory dispute must be resolved on the full moon in the ancient way."

"The ancient way?"

"A challenge. A battle for control. It's done in fully shifted form."

"Well, I'm not a werewolf. What am I supposed to do?"

"We're set up to be self-policing. Your ex shouldn't be behaving the way he is. Marriages to humans are somewhat frowned upon and are supposed to be done with full knowledge and consent on the part of the human. This obviously wasn't how he did it with you, since you know nothing of our customs. A human has good reason to be wary of marrying one of us, though. Werewolf law often resorts to the ancient way for final arbitration. A human is at a disadvantage in any dispute with one of us. It's much easier when we keep to ourselves." Both of Raul's hands gripped the tablecloth now. Chandra wondered what part of this upset him so much.

"So you're saying he shouldn't have married me."

"Not if he planned to treat you this way." Raul's voice came out as a snarl.

"I mean, because it breaks werewolf law."

"It's not that a werewolf can't be with a human," Raul said. His emphasis on the words "be with" sent a chill down her inner thighs. "It just needs to be done properly." Now Chandra grabbed her own handful of tablecloth. She needed to figure out how to get free of her ex, not become distracted wondering what Raul would consider the "proper" way to be with a human.

"Okay, well." Chandra's voice shook. She forced herself to look at a spot on the wall beyond Raul. If she looked directly at the man, she'd be off on another fantasy before she knew what hit her. "Since that's water under the bridge at this point, isn't there any way to dispute his claim on my house?"

Raul's hand brushed hers. Chandra jumped. "Another werewolf could dispute on your behalf. I could do that for you. If you wanted. I owe you my life as it is."

Chandra waited for him to move his hand away. He did not. She went on speaking anyway, despite the bolts of arousal shooting through her lower belly. "And what then? Am I—I mean, my house—is my house your territory if you win?" Her arms trembled. The idea of being his territory sounded medieval to her brain, but her body loved it. Enough that she involuntarily crossed her legs and squeezed them together, further igniting the heat between her thighs.

"In theory," Raul said slowly. "I suppose so. In practice, only if you want it to be." He smiled. "I'm a werewolf, not a caveman."

You can grab it from Amazon, or from the publisher's site.

While you're over there, check out the new release, One Wild Vegas Night, from my fellow Ravaged author SJ Thomas.

New Werewolf Erotica on the Way!

A quick update to say I just signed a contract with Breathless Press for a new erotic werewolf novelette, currently titled "Not His Territory."

More details when it gets closer to release, but for now I'll say it's about a woman caught between her werewolf ex-husband and the werewolf investigator who's come to town to challenge him.

Breathless is publishing another werewolf story of mine, "The Arcadian Cure," in the forthcoming Ravaged anthology. I'm hoping to keep a good thing going, and am still thinking about lycanthropes. Perhaps more will be on the way.