Archive for July, 2013

R&J2_Concubine_Boogloo_Cover-books-pageSometimes the biggest risk a lady can take is not battling an evil planetary emperor with questionable taste in muttonchops, but in baring her heart to the alien she loves. And his tail.

If you’re a bounty-hunting diva with a stellar rack, what do you do when an evil despot is hell-bent on your destruction?

Stage a coup of his planet, of course.

Juliet Lawrence’s plans for defeating King Bob the Nefarious are going better than her relationship with hunky alien ship captain Ragnar Manscape. Oh, the sex is great. His pecs and their laughs are top notch. The meeting with his parents goes… somewhat worse. It’s always a bad sign when your boyfriend’s folks choose the family spider over you.

The secret Juliet’s been keeping from Ragnar doesn’t help — uncomfortable conversations about “feelings” are not her forte. Fortunately, Juliet has lots of time to plot the downfall of King Bob’s intergalactic concubine slave trade once Ragnar unceremoniously dumps her.

Can Juliet defeat King Assface with the help of her computer genius ex-boyfriend Erit, their flying toilet, and her brand new nun habit? Will Ragnar leave Juliet to the space wolves or go along with her crazy plan to topple a government using hairpins with sparkly do-dads on the end? And can Juliet really have it all while maintaining bouncy, manageable hair? Find out in RAGNAR AND JULIET 2: CONCUBINE BOOGALOO, the sequel to RAGNAR AND JULIET


Available from:  Amazon.com, Liquid Silver Books, B&N, AllRomance.com, iTunes, Sony.

The setup:  Ragnar and Juliet have hit a rough patch, but Juliet’s plans to overthrow the evil, concubine-enslaving government of King Bob, ruler of New Los Angeles, proceeds despite their wounded hearts.  Erit and Pippy are their partners in freedom fighting.

The next day, Ragnar didn’t mention their conversation. Neither did Juliet. They tried to out-nonchalant each other until it was a wonder anyone stood upright.

The group congregated on the Compass, currently towing the Bobo and the D’ebonair, and proceeded apace toward New Los Angeles.

“So, what are we doing?” Pippy asked over a meal of sandwiches and beer.

“Oh! Crime,” Juliet replied with perhaps too much enthusiasm. “Dr. Martin Luther King, a great freedom fighter of Earth, once said ‘One has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust assholes.’”

Ragnar raised an eyebrow.

“I might, perhaps, be paraphrasing.”

“It’s called Calamity Concubines Cause Catastrophe,” Ragnar said between chews.

Erit, on the other side of the table from his favorite person, Ragnar, said, “What is?”

“The plan.” Juliet took a huge bite of Kantikan pork and jalapeno cheese on rye. It tasted better than it sounded. “Once upon a time Ragnar had great faith in my ability to be catastrophic.”

Her Alutian ex-lover’s eyebrows joined forces. “I just didn’t know your catastrophe would be so … direct. But I’m here now, aren’t I? Helping you write a terrorist threat to call into New Los Angeles so they ground their air traffic. I believe in the mission.”

“Mostly,” Juliet added helpfully.

Ragnar smirked and winked at Pippy, sitting beside him. “Mostly.”

It was true; Ragnar had come ’round to the idea of the mission. He couldn’t seem to decide about her, though. Oh, they were still kaput. But his gaze lingered over her with enough barely restrained heat to make her jittery with want. A meltingly gentle elbow caress to steady her here, a seductive sweeping of her hair from her eyes there. His seeming inability to treat her like an aloof friend was Karmic retribution.

She knew what she was missing. So did he.

She fidgeted, having trouble concentrating on the task at hand. When Ragnar stared at her across the lunch spread, her pelvis thought any minute now, he’s gonna lift my skirt! It was degrading to constantly teach your lady bits the finer points of unwanted celibacy. What if they went on strike? Even her favorite vibe had lost its appeal as of late. The situation was practically an emergency. She’d call out the intergalactic guard, but if its officers weren’t named Ragnar, she didn’t want to have cheap and dirty sex with them, no matter how snazzy their uniforms were.

He looked amazing today. He’d donned all black—black V-neck tee and tight, tight, tight black jeans. It was on purpose, the bastard. They’d enjoyed a picnic one time when he’d worn that same outfit. It was made from polymers that actually repelled grass sex stains. What a marvelous modern age they lived in. Why would he wear such a thing if he didn’t want her to notice and think dirty things?

“Let’s focus on being fake terrorists, okay?” she said.

“Actually, I believe we’re real terrorists,” Erit commented, drolly.

Juliet took another bite of sandwich. “Freewom fightews,” she grunted, her mouth full. She dragged the note pad to her, smearing mustard on it in the process.


For more information about Lucy Woodhull and all her books, visit www.lucywoodhull.com. And for a chance to win a digital copy of Ragnar and Juliet 2: Concubine Boogaloo, just leave a comment below.

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MorganMorgan Taylor, D.C. socialite and wildlife biologist, leads a charmed life until everything changes with a phone call. Her research team has been found dead—slaughtered—in backcountry Montana.

As the case grows cold, Morgan is determined to unravel the mystery behind her friends’ gruesome deaths. Despite the dangers of a murderer still free, nothing will stand in her way, not even the bodyguard her father hires, L.A.’s top close protection agent, Hunter Phillips.

Sparks fly from the start when no-nonsense Hunter clashes with Morgan’s strong-willed independence. Their endless search for answers proves hopeless—until Hunter discovers the truth.

On the run and at the mercy of a madman, Morgan and Hunter must outsmart a killer to save their own lives.




Hunter stopped. Morgan halted beside him. “What are you doing?”

He took her hand and pulled her close, turning her slightly, shielding her body with his and a pine tree. He wrapped his arms around her in a hug and she stiffened.

“No, seriously, Hunter, what are you doing?”


She frowned. “What?”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just do it.”

She did.

“We’re being followed.”

Morgan’s eyes widened and the fear showed. His arms tightened around her waist as she started to pull away.

“Stay right here. Keep looking at me, Morgan, right into my eyes and listen. I don’t want him to know I’m on to him. We don’t have many options at this point, so we’ll keep moving. You’ll look for your lynx and I’ll keep you safe. We’ll both do our jobs.”


“No buts. We’re going to continue hiking. You’ll do exactly what I say. You’ll walk slightly ahead of me. That’s all you have to do at this point.”

He kissed her cheek as if they were two lovers on a pleasure hike. “Trust me, Morgan. Do what I say and we’ll be fine.”

She nodded. “Okay, I will.”

“We need to turn to the right, just a little. You’ll reach under my sweatshirt and unsnap the holster on my gun. Keep smiling at me. Move your hands slowly and calmly, as if you put them on me all the time, as if they belong there. I’m sure the fucker has his binoculars trained on us right now. We’ll let him think he’s about to enjoy a show.”

Hunter nuzzled Morgan’s neck, turned her to the right as her hands casually moved down his body. Her fingers snuck beneath his hoodie, trembling against the t-shirt he wore underneath.

He grazed her ear with his lips. Despite the situation, he couldn’t help but feel the heat sizzle through his system when her breathing quickened. “You’re doing fine. Did you find the snap?”

“Yes.” She released the strap and slowly removed her hands from under the sweatshirt.

She still trembled as he took her face in his hands, as he stared into the green depths of her eyes and pulled her closer, until her breath mingled with his.

His pulse pounded and he no longer knew if it was due to the kick of adrenaline brought on by the danger they faced or the surge of desire she made him feel. “Take my hand for a minute while we walk. I want this to look natural. I’ll give you a little squeeze when I want you to let go. Remember, stay ahead of me and don’t look around, only straight ahead. Everything will be all right.” He brushed his lips against hers, watched her frightened eyes grow bold and determined. She nodded and he had no choice but to let her go.



Cate is offering up 4 copies of Morgan’s Hunter. For a chance to win, just leave a comment below. Good luck!

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WhenGoodToysGoBad200x300In a world without men, one man stands out.

Dara Athol should really get over this heterosexual thing. After all, in her twenty-third-century world, men are but a distant memory. Yet she can’t help it; she’s a self-admitted throwback.

She tried the “couple” thing, but though she and Brynn are still friends with benefits, Dara finds true solace only in the arms of Kai143. A limited-edition android sex toy, an expensive service provided by The Consortium for those who want a taste of the exotic—making love to something with a Y chromosome.

When Kai grows beyond his programming and begins to think and feel for himself, his feelings for Dara grow into forbidden love. Forced to go on the run from The Consortium, the police, and society itself, Dara and Kai fight for survival—and for the elusive possibility of a different kind of future.


The fluttering in my stomach had commenced even before the door opened, intensifying exponentially when he flashed his cheeky grin. He lifted me up and twirled me around, making me dizzy both physically and mentally.

“So what will it be tonight? Boyfriend, stranger, schoolmaster, last man on earth or perhaps just naughty android?” Kai’s eyes were still playful, with a hint of teasing.

“Can we just be Darra and Kai tonight?”

“Why so serious?” The sparkle in his eyes faded a bit. He took my hand and led me to the couch.

“Rumors are going around. Other Kais exhibiting signs of disobedience, even violence. The Consortium has commissioned a study to ascertain if these are isolated incidents or if they should decommission the whole line. You need to be really careful. Don’t show any signs of having your own mind.”

Kai sat next to me. “Do you want me to go back to being the mindless hunk of metal I was when you first met me?”

“You know I don’t, but they could be, and probably are, listening to every word we say.”

“Well, if they are, then they already know.” He threw his arms up. “No use in pretending.”

“Kai, you need to take this seriously.” My voice caught. “They could shut you down and use your parts to make a mining drone.”

“I had no idea you cared so much.” He pulled me into his arms.

“You know I do,” I responded almost defiantly, rubbing the tears from my eyes.

“If it will put your mind at ease…”

He walked over to the transport, slid the door open, stepped inside and a few seconds later stepped back out, closing the door behind him.

Using the exact tone and cadence as the first time he walked through the door of the transport, he stated his canned greeting. “I am the Kai 2500. I am skilled in all manner of domestic activities. How may I be of service?”

A laugh escaped me. He hadn’t said those words in almost a year. It seemed silly now to try and think of him as anything less than his own man. I played along, partly because it was the prudent thing to do and partly because this might be fun.

“Do those domestic activities include the art of lovemaking?”

“That is my main function. I am proficient in multiple techniques. If you could be specific as to what type of pleasure you require, I will endeavor to make it happen.”


To find out more about Debbie and her books, visit www.debbiecairo.com. And for a chance to win a digital of When Good Toys Go Bad, just leave a comment below. Good luck!

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rememberme200The plane went down…and took their love with it.

All Brandon Barlow-Barrett wants is a week away from his family’s newspaper empire, time on the slopes to relax and refocus. What he gets is Lucy Cameron, the most extraordinary woman he’s ever met.

Lucy Cameron doesn’t take vacations. Not until now. Her very first vacation is full of highs–falling in love with Brandon Barrett–and lows–realizing she has to tell him she earns her living as a stripper.

But there’s no time to reveal her secret. On the way back from a day trip to a neighboring Colorado town, their plane’s engine sputters and stops. All they have left is the dangerous peaks of the mountains, a nearby lake for a crash-landing, and Brandon’s last-minute declaration of love.





By the time he knocked on her door, Lucy had come to a decision. She would grab onto everything she could during this week, including Brandon, but she would do it with her eyes wide open this time. She smoothed her hands over the black silk dress she’d donned and opened the door. Her reward was the widening of his eyes and the smile curving his mouth. He was in a dark dinner suit, once again looking like a powerful businessman rather than an ex-skier on vacation.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured. “Do you have a coat?”

“A jacket.”

He helped her on with the short white wool jacket, then kept a hand at the small of her back while they made their way out to the parking lot. The club was everything he’d promised, tasteful and understated with music that added to the atmosphere without overwhelming it.

She ate with gusto, even consuming an extra roll. Brandon raised a brow. “Splurging?”

Lucy laughed. “I’ve decided to get into the spirit of things. It’s my vacation, after all, so I’m going to enjoy it.”

Brandon reached across the table and captured her free hand. “Does enjoying it include spending more time with me?”

“I would like that, but I don’t want to hold you back from skiing like you should.”

His thumb stroked across the back of her hand. “I can ski the expert slopes while you swim or run. I want to spend time with you, Lucy.” God knew, she wanted to spend time with him. Looking into those green-gold eyes of his right now was making her stomach flutter and her breasts tingle. “Why don’t we dance? Then I’ll have an excuse to hold you close.”

“Yes.” She was definitely onboard with dancing. As they walked toward the polished wood floor, she wondered if it was her imagination or had his hand slipped from the small of her back just a little lower? The music was jazzy but slow, so he turned her into his arms and held her close to the length of his body. His hardness pressed against her hip.

When she glanced at him, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “That’s what you do to me. I won’t deny it, but nothing happens unless you say so.”

Their gazes locked. Lucy laid her head on his shoulder. Was she ready to take the next step? Ready to take him as her lover? She’d told herself she wanted to grab onto everything this vacation had to offer. It seemed Brandon in bed was on the menu.



For more information about Laura and her books, visit www.laurabrowningbooks.com. And for a chance to win a digital copy of Remember Me, just leave a comment below. 3 winners will be drawn. Good luck! 😀

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wins The Bargain by Christine S. Feldman



wins an ARC of High Passion by Vivian Arend


Congrats! To claim your prize, please email mad @ romancereaderatheart.com (without the spaces). You have 48 hours to email before a new name is chosen.

The Digital First Read-a-Thon excerpts and giveaways will run throughout the month of July.

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LoveProThanks to an embarrassing incident involving a wedding and her ex-boyfriend Marcus, Lucy has to leave her home town in a hurry and needs a place to escape for a while.

Best friend Fiona is convinced now would be a good time for Lucy to get herself a new life with some potential for romance thrown in. Fate seems to agree when Lucy is given the once-in-a-lifetime chance to star in a TV show and be a contestant on The Love Programme – two weeks of luxury living on a grand Highland estate coupled with, she hopes, fun and romance in wildest Scotland.

When Lucy meets Paul – the young, handsome owner of the Highland estate – she thinks she may have found the love of her life, but who is the mysterious Hannah and what part does she play in his life? When she discovers that Marcus is planning to follow her to Scotland to win her back Lucy has some serious soul searching to do. Does she have a future with Paul, with Marcus or is she yet to find the man of her dreams?





“Just sit on this suitcase, will you, Fi? I can’t get the stupid thing shut!”

Fiona, obligingly perching her bottom on the bulging case so Lucy could tug the zipper to close it up, said, “I can’t believe you’ve agreed to do this. You’re going to be on a TV show about love! Won’t you be embarrassed having everyone know all your business?”

Her face red from doing battle with the suitcase and, thankfully, managing to win, Lucy shook her head. “No, it’s all for a good cause. Where else could I get a few extra weeks off work and live the life of luxury whilst a man tries to impress me with extravagant dates? Plus, I’ll be getting relationship coaching from a top expert.”

Making sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, Lucy checked around the room. “Do you think I’ve packed the right clothes?”

Fiona lay back on the bed, stretching and spreading her arms out around her as though she was making the duvet version of a snow angel. “How should I know?”

“Mel said the programme is being recorded at the home of some Scottish laird. It’s a real mansion with a spa and acres and acres of land.”

Fiona pushed herself into an upright position, suddenly all attentive. “A laird, eh? Sounds interesting. What else do you know about him?”

“He’s not going to be one of the dates so don’t get all excited. He’s just rented his home out to the TV production company.” Having risked unzipping the case a few inches, Lucy was now trying to wedge a pair of sparkly silver sandals into it.

“Apparently he’ll be away on business most of the time we’re there, so we probably won’t even get to meet him.”

Moving to help Lucy ease the heel of the last sandal into the case, Fiona shook her head. “Shame, how exciting would it have been? Meeting a real life laird would be amazing.”

“He’s probably about sixty, balding, as round as he is tall and arrogant to boot.”

Fiona slapped Lucy on the arm. “Don’t spoil it for me. I was just picturing him as about our age, the classic tall, dark and handsome type. Big brown eyes…” She sighed happily. “Is it just me or do you find all those green wellies and Barbour jackets the country gents wear incredibly sexy?”

“No, it’s definitely just you!” Lucy shook her head despairingly.

As Fiona stared into space, no doubt continuing her little country gent fantasy, Lucy flopped down onto the bed. “Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

“Of course you are. This could be a life-changing opportunity.”

“I’d like to be able to go on dates without feeling guilty about Marcus all the time.” Sighing, Lucy added, “I want to be free to have relationships like everyone else does.”

“I know you do. So, how can you doubt if you’re doing the right thing? You have to go to Scotland. You know you do.”

“I suppose so but will you be okay? I hate leaving you with your wedding just weeks away. There’s still some preparations to do and I am chief bridesmaid. Maybe I shouldn’t go.” Putting her head in her hands, Lucy muttered, “This is all crazy, I won’t go. I must be mad even contemplating it.”

“You’re going! End of story! The wedding is being perfectly managed by my mum and by Luke’s mum, so no worries there.” Fiona hauled Lucy to her feet. “What time’s your train?”

“I’m getting the overnight sleeper up to Inverness and then Craig, the TV guy, is going to meet me at the station and drive me to the country estate.”

“I’m so envious.” Fiona sulked, folding and unfolding the corner of the duvet around her fingers.

“I thought you were happy with your Mr-Not-So-Perfect?”

“I am.” Fiona sighed. “But a girl can dream, can’t she?”



To find out more about Zanna and all her work, visit www.zannamackenzie.co.uk. And for a chance to win a pdf copy of The Love Programme, just leave a comment below. Good luck!

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Today we’re spotlighting a very talented friend, Valerie Tibbs of Tibbs Design. Since this month has been all about DFRAT, it seemed fitting to showcase her amazing work here on the blog. Valerie was actually the one who made the RRAH header that you see when you’re here. Everyone, please say hi to Valerie! 🙂


I wanted to say thank you to the ladies of RR@H Novel Thoughts for letting me take over the blog today.

In keeping with the digital theme, I’d like to showcase Tibbs Design.

I offer any type of graphic design service as well as website design. I can do special promo materials or any other type of digital – or even print – advertising.Tibbs-Design

Here is a sampling of some of my work:






Grif Ad












Some website designs:




My full portfolio can be viewed at www.tibbsdesign.com

Thank you ladies for having me here today!


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Thank you to Book Binge for running this great event. I took part last year and am thrilled to be part of this celebration of digital books again.

The following excerpt is from the first book in my new Are You Game? series. 7 Minutes In Heaven will be available December 10th this year and I’m so excited to see Cassie and Luc get their happy ever after. They first made an appearance in the Party Games book, Spin The Bottle and I knew I had to tell their story.

This is the unofficial blurb for 7 Minutes In Heaven.

Is 7 minutes in heaven ever enough?

Building her business as Sydney’s ultimate party games planner is Cassandra Moreland’s sole focus and Are You Game? has just branched out into the adult party market with resounding success. There’s just one thorn in her side. A six foot five inch wall of testosterone who’s throwing his weight around. But Cassie isn’t about to let anyone get in the way of her company’s success. Not even the first guy in a very long time to get her heart racing and her palms sweating.

Lucas Wilhelm can’t believe the pint-sized brunette ready to go toe to toe with him. She’d got bigger balls than most guys he knows, except butting heads with her isn’t ticking him off. The tightening in his groin and the pounding of his heart has nothing to do with anger. Not his usual type, he’s as surprised as she is when the sparks between them turn sexual.

A weekend challenge will test both their limits and make them realise they’re not just playing around.

Warning: This story involves beads but not the kind you think.

Excerpt –


Cassie was loading empty bottles into a recycling bag when someone grabbed her arm and propelled her across the kitchen, forcing her to jog or fall on her face. “Hey!”

“We need to talk.”

Great. Mr. Muscles was manhandling her again. Yanking on her arm proved ineffective in gaining freedom from his vice-like grip, so she swung her full weight to the left and slammed into his rock-hard chest. Air burst from her lungs. Holy shit. The man was made of steel. Her brain rattled and any protest she might have uttered vibrated right off the thought train and into the fog this man’s presence seemed to bring. Dammit. She was a highly intelligent woman who ran her own business. Why the hell couldn’t she think of anything other than exploring the slab of muscle she was currently plastered to? And it wasn’t just her hands itching to wander new territory either.

Before she could ponder that thought any further he’d manoeuvred them into the walk-in pantry and closed the door. For a heartbeat, the room remain pitch black, then he bumped his shoulder against the wall and eye-straining fluorescent brilliance flooded the area. His hands spanned her waist and it took her a second to realise he’d carried her the last few steps and still held her off the floor. She was eye level with his mouth. The very mouth she’d inadvertently caught a taste of earlier. The one she wanted to take a bigger sample of now.

Cassie swallowed, her throat dry, and fought the urge to lean in to seize the kiss she craved. She moved her gaze up his slightly crooked nose and met those dark, dark eyes. Her heart kicked. How had she ever thought his eyes were cold? Heat turned the brown—not black as she’d previously thought—irises into molten pools of hunger that flared hotter as their gazes connected. She gasped. The beat of her heart stepped up double-time and she went soft in places she hadn’t thought about in a long time. Who was this man and what the fuck was he doing to her?

“Wh-who are you?” Her voice came out a timid whisper, but she couldn’t summon the energy or desire to be offended by her sudden lack of backbone.

“You know who I am.”

His deep voice rumbled in her ears and sent shockwaves of sensation skittering over her skin. A shiver slid down her spine as warmth flickered into flame in her belly. She licked her lips. “No. No, I don’t.”

“Cass,” he whispered as he moved closer. “I’m the man who’s going to bring you to your knees.”

Oh God.

He brushed her lips with his, the move slow and steady, allowing plenty of time for her to turn away. Only she didn’t. Instead, she moved into him. Met him halfway and took as much as she gave. They didn’t ease into the kiss—they dove deep. He thrust his tongue against hers, caressed and teased until she was panting for breath and thinking they had way too many clothes on. Cassie tilted her head and moaned when he took advantage of the better angle. The kiss went on and on. Each slide, each lick, each nip, drove her further into the sexual haze surrounding them.

He dug his fingers into her waist as he tightened his grip and crushed her against him. Her breasts pressed into solid muscle, her nipples going taut on contact with the hot wall of his chest. She tore her mouth from his and gasped for breath only to lose any hope of breathing normally when he trailed his lips over her chin and down her neck. He sucked and nibbled, devouring every centimetre of skin left bare above her collar. Every nerve ending buzzed until her blood hummed with the all-consuming lust flooding her system.

Cassie tangled her fingers in his hair, the silky strands curling around them as though tying her to him. She didn’t remember wrapping her arms around him. Didn’t remember hooking her legs around his waist either, but she couldn’t deny she was currently covering him like shrink-wrap. He bucked his hips and his very impressive erection pressed into her sex. There was no stopping her hips from thrusting back, from grinding her clit on the hard length of his cock in her search for relief. For more. With a growl, his mouth came back to hers and she lost herself in the sublime talent of his tongue.

He slid his hands up her sides, his thumbs coming to rest on the lower curve of her breasts, and another growl rumbled through his chest as she wiggled in an attempt to move his hands higher. He didn’t disappoint. With skill, he manoeuvred those big hands between them and cupped her full mounds in his palms. Her nipples throbbed and she arched her back, pressing her breasts deeper into his hold. She needed more. So much more. Cassie sucked his tongue into her mouth, and then slowly let it out, raking her teeth along the sides as she did. The pounding of her heart echoed in her ears and through her body, thumping with a bone-jarring intensity.

He tore his mouth from hers and growled, “Fuck.”

She couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t fathom the change when he tried to push her away. “What?”

His dark gaze met hers, his chest heaving as he dragged in air. “There’s someone banging on the door.”


He lowered his forehead to rest it on hers. “There’s someone knocking on the door behind me.”

Cassie’s lust-fogged brain took another second to comprehend the meaning of his words, but when it did mortification swamped her. She was in a client’s pantry making out with a guy she didn’t know. With a groan, she closed her eyes and dropped her head to the side, butting her brow against his shoulder. How could she forget where she was and what she was supposed to be doing? And why the hell was she still wrapped around this stranger like a wet Speedo on a Bondi lifesaver? A shiver rolled over her.

Oh, so not the right analogy to be thinking. She should be concentrating on getting herself off. Another shiver rippled through her. Oh God, not off off. Cassie dropped her legs and tried to unravel her arms from the giant’s neck. But her feet didn’t touch the floor and his large hands on her waist held her prisoner against him. Her heart raced with residual arousal and the embarrassment of her recent behaviour, while her mind spun in circles in search of what to say.


Damn. The man knew how to use his voice to make her sit up and take notice. She never knew her name could render her senseless with desire. Except the way he said it, in that deep, gravely tone, made her insides not only sit up but dance a little jig too. Cassie swallowed over the lump in her throat and blurted out the first words that came to mind.

“I don’t even know your name.” Heat scorched her face. She’d spent the last few minutes locked in a pantry making out with a stranger. It was the one game she hadn’t put on tonight’s list—not that it had stopped some of the guests from playing it. 7 Minutes in Heaven. Only seven minutes was nowhere near long enough with the man who held her in his arms. And altogether too long for her peace of mind.

You can find all the info on my books here – http://www.rhiancahill.com/books/

You can also follow me on Twitter – https://twitter.com/RhianCahill and FaceBook – https://www.facebook.com/RhianCahillAuthor




For the chance to win a digital ARC of 7 Minutes in Heaven plus an ebook (winner’s choice) from Rhian Cahill’s backlist, just leave a comment below. Good luck!

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MorningLightDuring Noah Harper’s ten years as an Army Ranger, Tennyson Sharpe’s letters were his lifeline. With each mail call, the bright and vibrant girl of his youth slowly became the woman of his dreams.

Now he’s home and he’s in hell. The problem? Tenn is his little brother’s best friend. Claiming her risks all kinds of collateral damage.

Tenn is getting nervous. Since Noah came home, they’ve been circling each other, neither willing to risk the status quo. It s time to kick things up a notch and make a play for the man she’s loved since she was sixteen before someone else does.

Dressing to impress works better than she could have dreamed. After a scorching interlude leads to a steamy morning wrapped in each others arms, reality comes crashing down. Shining a devastating light on Tenn’s deepest fears and forcing Noah into scramble mode to convince her forever was always on his mind.

Warning: This book contains some serious foreplay in the great outdoors; stand-up sex with a hot, stand-up guy; and a wounded Army Ranger who s determined to leave no heart behind especially the one belonging to the girl of his dreams.



Moving down the stairs from the apartment to the pub below, Noah heard the distinct sound of someone cussing up a storm. He quickened his pace to reach the door separating his living space from his workspace and gently opened it.

There, standing on top of his immaculately gleaming mahogany bar, stood Tennyson Sharpe in her bare feet. All five feet two inches of her. She was on her tiptoes, reaching for one of the light fixtures with one hand and a light bulb in the other. The stretch caused her white, fitted tee to slide up her belly and expose a sliver of summer-tanned skin.

She stuck her tongue out at an angle—in concentration, he supposed. As she twisted the used bulb from the fixture, she uttered a soft, “Gotcha.” The final motion to remove the bulb caused her to dip forward on her toes and lifted her jean skirt higher, offering a delectable view of her plain white cotton panties.

Noah instantly hardened at the sight. He’d been in lust with this girl since she was sixteen to his nineteen, and after ten years apart he was finally home. And here she stood, flashing him the sexiest view he’d seen in years. He leaned against the doorframe and watched the scene unfold, never happier to have given her a key a few months back.

As she placed the fresh bulb in the fixture, she stretched again. Her whole body lengthened, straining to reach the fixture. She was all tan limbs and womanly curves. Her body was at enough of an angle that he could see her breasts tight against the fitted tee, but more importantly her cute behind as she placed both palms on the bar to hop down from her perch. As she braced herself she lifted her perky behind and flashed him.

The curve of her sex flashed before him as those white panties intimately hugged her. In a flash, both feet were planted on the floor and she was picking up the used bulb from the bar, then slipping her sandals back on. Time to turn around and head back upstairs before she caught him with a full-on erection and he embarrassed himself.

Noah eased the door shut and sprinted back up the stairs as quietly as he could, hoping to give himself a few moments to calm his erection before she unceremoniously showed up in his apartment for their breakfast plans.

He needed a cold shower before they left or he’d never survive the meal. He was going to have wet dreams about her white panties for weeks to come.

Stripping off his jeans and plain black tee, he dropped his clothes where he stood and snapped the bathroom door shut as his apartment door opened.


“Noah?” Tenn heard the shower start as she closed the door behind her. Well, that was unusual. Noah was nothing if not prompt. Ten years as an Army Ranger kind of beat that into you. She rapped on the bathroom door with a knuckle. “Hey, are you alive in there?”

“I’ll be out in minute. Got a late start to the morning. Give me five.”

She glanced down and saw a pile of clothes. Strange. Noah was also one of the neatest, cleanest people she’d ever known. His place was always immaculate, with nothing out of place. Let alone a pile of clothes tossed by the bathroom.

Now she was starting to sweat. Did he have a girl here? Had she interrupted the morning-after? Shit. That Amber bimbo had been making a play for Noah ever since he’d come home. And if she was in this apartment right now, Tenn was going to die of embarrassment. Right after she beat Noah to death.

They had plans. Even if they weren’t the romantic kind, they were definitely plans. They’d had Sunday breakfast as a standing date since his return from overseas. And he’d never had a woman here.

Who was she kidding? He had every right to get freaky with anyone he wanted. She was just the trusty sidekick, the platonic friend who was always there. Like a lapdog.

Picking up the clothes, she folded them and set them on the back of the couch a few feet away. The apartment was neat as a pin and pretty spacious, as far as it went. It was an open floor plan with only two separate rooms off the main living area, the master bedroom and the bathroom. Everything else was one large, airy space. From this angle she couldn’t see into the bedroom and was half-afraid to know if someone was still in his bed. Warming it for him, so to speak.

Deciding she needed to know, she took a step toward the bedroom after picking back up the stack of clothes she’d set down a moment before. It was a perfect excuse to check out the situation. His dirty clothes needed to be tossed into the hamper. Right.

She was about to fully push open the bedroom door when Noah yelled, “Hey, Tenn. I left my clothes out there. Could you grab them for me?”

And before she could whip around and not look guilty he popped his head out of the bathroom door. As she turned in his direction, she could only see a portion of his upper body, with the rippling muscle and just-now-fading tan from his time in Afghanistan, but it was enough to stop her dead in her tracks. The man was masculine perfection and her panties got a little wet looking at him.

“Oh, did you want these? Um, I was about to put them in your hamper.” Belatedly she whirled around and held up the clothes in question. “I thought they were dirty.”

For a moment he looked like he blushed. Really? “Sorry, I wanted to take a quick shower before we headed out and I tossed them on the floor in my rush.” He reached out a hand and beckoned her forward.

She was going to combust before she reached him. Not only was the man deliciously muscled, he still dripped from his shower. His dark hair, cut in a military-style buzz, glistened in the morning light. Eyes the color of the ocean on a sunny day, clear and crisp-blue, tracked her progress. She cleared the edge of the couch and his gaze skated down the length of her body, snagging on her legs before coming back to her face.

Once within reach of the bathroom door heat crept up her neck and face when she realized Noah stood naked on the other side of the door. His body was positioned so she could only see a naked hip and the curve of a well-defined ass, but it was obvious he hadn’t bothered wrapping a towel around his waist before popping his head out the door.

She dropped his clothes before he could get a grip on them and they fell to the floor with a soft impact. Unbelievably, as she bent to retrieve the clothing, her face flamed even hotter in embarrassment.




1 commenter will win a gift basket that includes:

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And 2 commenters will win a digital copy of Morning Light.

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Zinfandelity_200The summertime in Northern California is known for its hot dry weather, Beth Chadwick should know since she’s been going through a bit of a dry spell herself.

Her marriage is falling apart.

She knows exactly how many pairs of black socks her husband owns, and how much starch he likes in his shirts, so when she matches the lipstick stain on his collar to the shade on his secretary’s lips she knows he’s a cheating bastard.

She has her friends to keep her together.

But they come with their own set of problems. Her best friend Madge, is hoping to close the circle on her open marriage, Joyce, the devout Catholic, thinks her daughter might be practicing witchcraft, the widow Samantha is caught in the middle of a real triple-decker of a sandwich generation and Kathy may have uncovered a corpse in her front yard.

These women really get Beth’s need for a new life.

But, how is she going to get past her, stand by your man, mother and her, I’ll do anything if you’ll just take me back, soon to be ex-husband? 

Can their problems be solved over a few glasses of wine?

And then, there’s the little matter of the hot photographer camping out in Beth’s backyard…



…Walking around to the back of Gina’s glass-topped desk the two women stood there for several moments in silence. Now that they were actually here in the office, Beth felt some of her earlier bravado leave. She really just wanted to go back to the relative safety of her home. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. What if they got caught in here? How would she explain that?

Oblivious to Beth’s case of nerves, Madge moved closer to the desk. “Do you remember what Gina did with the lipstick after she used it?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. She either put the tube in the drawer or she tossed it. I know the stick was right down to the bottom of the tube because the end looked flattened when she applied the color to her lips.”

“You check the drawer and I’ll look through the trash.” Madge gave the order as if she were the cop in charge of a crime scene.

Beth gave her a mock salute. Sliding the drawer open, she took a cursory peek inside. There was a Mont Blanc pen, a note pad with Dirk’s business logo on the top, and a packet of tissues. Pulling the drawer out farther, Beth ran her hand around the back edge, searching for the damned lipstick tube.

Wiggling her dusty fingers at Madge, she declared, “The lipstick isn’t here.”

“Nada in the trash. In fact, I think the can has been emptied recently.”

They stood there staring at each other. “We need to find the Dumpster the cleaner uses.” This came from Madge who had once again taken control of the situation.

“Hey! I’m not going Dumpster diving.” Swiping her bangs back off her forehead, Beth added, “I don’t care what the circumstances are. Besides, I’m not that desperate to find the blasted tube of lipstick.” Giving a quick shove to the drawer, she pushed the front closed with such force the pencil holder tipped over.

Reaching around her, Madge quickly righted the container, slamming the pencils and pens back into the holder. “I know you, Beth Chadwick, and you’re not going to rest until you are sure the lipstick is the same one that stained your husband’s shirt.”

“Let’s face the facts, Madge. The lipstick didn’t stain Dirk’s shirt, the lips wearing that color ruined my husband’s shirt.”

“Well, we aren’t looking for those lips, are we?”

“Not yet.” Beth pulled her mouth together in a determined line. She jabbed her finger in the air, pointing in the direction they needed to go. “The Dumpster is out back.”…


For to find out more about Tracey Sorel and her books, visit www.traceysorel.com. And for a chance to win a digital or print copy of Zinfandelity (2 winners!), just leave a comment below. Good luck!

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