Dee S.

New Release! A Kinky Christmas Carol: Lisabet Sarai

The ghost of Christmas Future…

Gay, paranormal, holiday-themed, BDSM Romance
21,000 words
Smashwords and Amazon KDP
ISBN (Smashwords): 9781005878955
ASIN: B08QGYYBY4

Blurb:
Michael dreams of being a slave. His lover Neil has no clue about his dirty desires; Michael’s too ashamed to share his submissive fantasies with his burly, powerful partner. Frustrated and confused, he wonders whether he and Neil really belong together.

Then, on Christmas Eve, Michael receives a visit from a sexy Dom named Thorne Wilder, who claims to be his lover from the future. Thorne shows Michael scenes from a wild life of sexual excess that he claims they’ll share if he breaks up with Neil.

Should Michael trust the ghost of Christmas future, or does his true future lie with Neil?

(Note: This book was previously published by Totally Bound with the title Tomorrow’s Gifts. It has been revised and re-edited for this release.)

Buy Links:
Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/8527-a-kinky-christmas-carol-gay-bdsm-romance/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08QGYYBY4

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08QGYYBY4

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1058955

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-kinky-christmas-carol-lisabet-sarai/1138471310?ean=2940164759179

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/a-kinky-christmas-carol-gay-bdsm-romance

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56328426-a-kinky-christmas-carol

Online Excerpt:
https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2020/12/a-kinky-christmas-carol-newrelease.html

A Kinky Christmas Carol Excerpt:
I woke with a start, not knowing why. Neil had rolled over; he lay on his side of the bed with his back to me. All at once I felt terribly alone.

Golden light filtered up the hallway from the living room. I shook my head, trying to clear the fog. Had we forgotten to turn off the Christmas tree? But no, I remembered flipping the switch before we left for the party. Neil was always concerned about the danger of fire.

What was it then? Something out on the street in front of the building, an emergency vehicle or something? Those lights would be red, wouldn’t they?

Trying not to wake Neil, I crawled out of bed and tiptoed barefoot down the hall. The closer I got to the living room, the brighter the light became.

The tree was in fact lit, the multicolored bulbs twinkling in a spiral pattern. Someone had kindled the candles on the mantle, as well. However, these were not the source of the golden glow.

A young man lay sprawled on the sofa – an exceptionally handsome man. His flawless skin was bronzed as if he spent most of his time in the sun. His ragged, honey-colored hair hung down over one eye. He had high cheekbones, a prominent nose, ripe lips with a slightly cruel cast. Despite his fair hair, his eyebrows were dark. They arched gracefully over eyes that held me transfixed – brilliant, wise, all-seeing eyes.

The man wore leather, so supple and tight that it showed every well-sculpted muscle of his powerful body.

This exotic stranger was emitting the strange illumination. The light surrounded him like a halo. When he moved, it ebbed and flowed as though it were alive.

I must be dreaming, I concluded. But who would have believed that I could dream up such a gorgeous guy?

“Good evening, Michael.” His voice was like honey, too, sweet and smooth flowing. It made my mouth water. I realized that I was naked and half-erect. I didn’t care. Wonder and arousal overwhelmed me.

“Um – good evening… Who are you? How do you know my name?”

The stranger swung his long legs off the couch and stood up. The light shimmered around him. My eyes were drawn to the bulge at his groin.

“I’m your lover.”

A stab of guilt shredded my sense of well-being. “Uh – I have a lover. He’s asleep in the other room.”

“I’m your future lover.”

“My future lover?” I felt stupid, parroting him, but I didn’t know what to say.

“I’ve come from the future, to give you a glimpse of your life with me. To help you decide.”

This time I knew what he meant. He was talking about leaving Neil. This was just a guilt dream, based on my musings before I fell asleep.

“You’re not real.”

“Of course I’m real. Touch me.”

Lisabet Sarai:
Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Pinterest, and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

Internet research and The Last Dragon: Daryl Devore

Welcome, Daryl! i’m almost finished reading The Last Dragon now–review to follow! (Love the cover!)

Happy birthday, The Last Dragon!

Internet Research – A writer’s friend and worst enemy

Silly me, I decide to write a medieval fantasy romance. *shakes head* What do I know about medieval times? No cell phones. There were knights. Damsel in distress needing saving. And they spoke a different form of English than we do. Cuz, like, ya know – English changes.

Why is Internet research a writer’s friend? What ever the question is, the answer is at our fingertips. No having to go to the library and dig through the reference section. Although being the daughter of a retired librarian, I will confess, I love libraries and all those books. But being able to get the information on my laptop and not having to get dressed and brush my hair to go out to the library, is a great delight and time saver.

Why is Internet research a writer’s worst enemy? A deep dark rabbit hole. I’ll just look up – clothes in medieval times. Which led me to food in medieval times. Which led me to castles in medieval times. Which led me to — sanitary practises in medieval times. Ewww. I have still not gotten over the repulsion of that research.

Times may be difficult right now, but flush plumbing and deodorant are a blessing!

In my next book, which is also a medieval fantasy romance, I am torn between being truthful about the actual conditions the people lived in or sticking with Hollywood’s version. And… believe me when I say – the Hollywood version is winning!

Snippet
She sniffed as she neared the berries, but could not catch their sweet scent. Her mood slipped. Not a red fruit anywhere. A crow sat atop a nearby tree and cawed.

“Ye couldn’t have left just a few?” Derry waved her basket at it. “Those were probably the last berries of the season.” The black bird tilted its head and screeched again. ‘Tis not to be my lucky day. A patch full of sweet fruit gone and a handsome man stolen by Ailith and Isa. Best to attend to breakfast. She turned and followed the path back to the cottage.

After milking the cow and leading her and her calf to the small pasture, Derry carried the bucket into the cottage and placed it by the trestle table. She picked up two wooden mugs, bowls and spoons and placed them on the table. She poured a handful of nuts and dried fruit into the bowls and reached for the clay jar filled with honey. After drizzling the amber liquid over the nuts, she placed the jar back on the shelf and filled the mugs with warm milk.

Wrapped in her woollen shawl, the old woman entered and sat. “Ye were gone when I awoke.”

Derry did not know why she lived with this woman. She was not kin to her, but as it seemed like it had always been this way. She did not question.

“I went to pick berries up at the little patch on the hill.” Derry untied her headscarf and placed it on the table. “But the birds had a feast before us. Did ye sleep well?” Derry settled on her stool and lifted her spoon.

The woman nodded.

“On my way to the patch I found a man. He was hurt. His aura was golden. I mended him. Not like those covered in the darkness.” She licked a bit of honey off her spoon. The sweetness filled her mouth.

“Then ye must eat.” The woman patted her arm. “Ye must also rest.”

“When I have finished.” Lost in her thoughts, Derry munched a mouthful of honey covered nuts. He was delightfully handsome. Large muscles on his arms. A broad chest and a fine chin. But now he is in the hands of Ailith and Isa. Will I ever find a husband?

With the meal over, Derry rinsed the dishes with water from a bowl then returned to their little sleeping area. She fluffed the straw mattress, tossed in a handful of wormwood leaves to ward off pests and settled down. Closing her eyes, she released a silent prayer. Please don’t let the blackness haunt me. Allow me to rest. Fill my dreams with visions of the fallen man. Not the icy blackness which scares me so.

Blurb and Buy Links
What do dragons, knights and romance have in common? Grab a copy of multi-published author Daryl Devore’s medieval fantasy romance – The Last Dragon and discover the answer.

A sorcerer craving dominance merged with a dragon, the power overwhelmed him causing him to split into three dragons. Demora ruled thought, but was lost in time. Yidithe offered protection, shining like the light of the sun. Ayrradex craved chaos, revelling in destroying souls.

Many knights died, attempting to slay the devil beast. One knight, Prince Hawkyns, did not fear death. He’d lost everything. Away on a mission when Ayrradex attacked his father’s kingdom, Penrythe, Hawkyns returned to find his noble father – feeble and defeated. His wise mother – crazed. His beautiful wife and unborn child – dead. Only a pile of ashes remained for him to bury. He knelt before his King and vowed to slay the devil-beast or be slain.

Derry was born with powers that terrified her parents. They delivered her to a nunnery to be raised in secret. Jathe, a wise sorceress, discovered the young girl and trained her to one day use the secret hidden in her soul.

Legends spoken around campfires hinted the sole way to destroy Ayrradex was when the hearts of a knight and a golden dragon became one. But after a vicious battle with Ayrradex, the golden dragon was thought to be dead.

Can Prince Hawkyns’s bravery and Derry’s powers end the reign of the devil-beast’s terror?

Book links
Amazon US
Amazon print
Books2Read (universal)
Pinterest

Bio and Social Media
Two writers in one. Daryl Devoré writes hot romances with sexy heroes and strong heroines and sweet romances with little to no heat. She has several published books available on Amazon in ebook or print book and available at other book retailers via Books2Read.

Daryl (@daryldevore) lives in an old farmhouse in Ontario, Canada, with her husband and 2 cats. Daryl loves to take long walks on her quiet country road or snowshoe across the back acres, and in the summer, kayak along the St. Lawrence River. She has touched a moon rock, a mammoth, and a meteorite. She’s been deep in the ocean in a submarine, flown high over Niagara Falls in a helicopter, and used the ladies room in a royal palace. Life’s an adventure and Daryl’s having fun living it.

Blog – Romance – Sweet to Heat

Twitter

Bi-monthly Newsletter

GoodReads Author Page

Book Bub

Bravery, like beauty, is an individual thing #MFRWauthor

What’s the bravest thing you’ve ever done?

Truthfully, I’m not sure I’ve ever done anything that could be considered brave. To me, being brave means to be afraid of something you have to do and then doing it, pushing past the fear. I’ve jumped in a car and driven halfway across country alone—before the age of cell phones—but I wasn’t afraid to do it. Seemed like natural, in fact. Call it undeserved confidence. I’ve been in and out of hospitals and hade multiple surgeries, but I had no choice, so I know they don’t count as being brave. I’ve never saved anyone, fought a fire, or even faced down a bully. Thinking about all this, I feel kind of useless…

In my defense, maybe I’ve never had to be brave. I’ve spent life surrounded by good people who loved me and protected me. I’ve never been confronted by bullies, nor have I been in dangerous situations where folks needed saving.

So, I guess I’d have to say, the closest thing I’ve done that could be called brave is trucking. I gave up every material thing I had and a very good job that wasn’t easy to get, in order to go on the road. And I was scared of failing—what would we do if I hated it or driving a tractor-trailer didn’t work out? But my fear was mitigated by 1) a wise woman reassuring me that our parents wouldn’t let us starve on the streets if we didn’t make it as truckers, and b) I wasn’t alone—I had hubby with me. Add to it, I was too young and stupid to be afraid, so does that count? I don’t know. Can’t help it, though, it’s as close as I can come.

Have you been brave? What did you do?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee

Burning Bridges by Anne Krist–Gold Medal winner, Best Romance 2020, Coffee Pot Book Club
One Woman Only
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers

Please indulge me: The sweetness of recognition #MFRWHooks

This is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!

No matter how humble we all tell ourselves to be, it’s always thrilling, and just plain sweet, when something we do gets some special recognition. Am I right? So when one of my books, Burning Bridges, written as Anne Krist, was awarded the Gold Medal for Best Romance of 2020 by Coffee Pot Book Club earlier this month, I felt all those giddy things we try so hard to guard against when we write a book and then send our baby out into the world. If you’ve seen this announcement other places on social media, forgive me. I’m happy. And it’s a great way to end this year that’s caused so much pain and sadness. Celebrate with me! Thanks! Recognition sometimes doesn’t come along all that often.

Blurb:
Not your typical “secret baby” book! This Southern romance packs in the emotion.

Letters delivered decades late send shock waves through Sara Richards’s world. Nothing is the same, especially her memories of Paul, a man to whom she’d given her heart years before. Now, sharing her secrets and mending her mistakes of the past means putting her life back together while crossing burning bridges. It will be the hardest thing Sara’s ever done.

Buy link:
Amazon Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt:
Sara stared at the letters arranged before her in numerical order. The moment in time she and Paul shared was long ago, yet her dream had conjured his presence as though she’d just seen him. In her mind, his blue eyes darkened with passion before his lips captured hers, and he moaned his appreciation when their tongues met. She tasted his sweetness and knew the steel of his arms as he held her. How many nights had she put herself through hell reliving those memories? Too damn many.

After the concert, they’d met clandestinely on weekends, mostly at Sandbridge, where they could walk and talk undisturbed. With each meeting, stirrings built deep in Sara that pushed her to want more, but Paul insisted they restrain themselves because of her age.

Then the weekend before he shipped out, she’d planned a surprise and her life changed forever.

The kettle screeched, bringing her back to the present. Sara prepared a cup of tea and then picked up the envelope marked twenty-eight. At one time, she would have given her right arm to hold this letter. Now, curiosity and the desire for a brief escape drove her more than the passion of youth. Blind love had faded when she’d had no word to bolster her during the long weeks after the ship left.

First had come the waiting. No letters arrived, even though she wrote him daily. There were no phone calls, no notes, no anything, for days that dragged into weeks then crept into months.

Anticipation morphed into anxiety. She worried he was sick or hurt and unable to write.

One day she admitted that Paul must be afraid to write for some reason, and she feared what he would say if she did receive a letter. That their time together had been a mistake, that she was too young to be in love. That he really loved someone else and Sara had been only a stand-in while he was in Virginia. Perversely, she began to sigh with relief when she arrived home and found no word.

Now, knowing why she hadn’t received mail, what would she feel if she opened this letter and her old fears proved to be true?

“Nothing,” she murmured. “Paul’s dead. He can’t hurt me anymore.” At the very least, his letters might allow her to put his ghost to rest. For that reason alone, she had to read them.

She slid her thumb under the flap and ripped the envelope open. A single sheet held his hurried scrawl.

Reviews:
From Readers:
“I loved it! And now my daughter’s reading it.” Sherry, a reader

“I just finished reading BURNING BRIDGES. Thank you for writing such a powerful story about how real love can overcome all obstacles. I appreciate the fact that Sara and Paul were imperfect and made mistakes. They needed each other to polish off their rough edges and make them complete. How nice that characters of middle age were written as attractive and sexual human beings.” A reader, Virginia

From Reviewers:
“Burning Bridges by Anne Krist is a story of a love that will not be denied — that cannot be denied. Time does not change what the soul knew before Sara and Paul ever met. Their love is eternal, and they can weather any storm, any lie, to the very end of time if necessary. I loved every minute of this book. If you are looking for your next great romance, then look no further. Burning Bridges has it all, and then some. I Highly Recommend._
Review by Mary Anne Yarde.
The Coffee Pot Book Club.

“If you love dramatic family sagas with plenty of emotion, you have to read Burning Bridges. Highly recommend!”
N.N. Light

Author Dee S. Knight/Anne Krist/Jenna Stewart:
A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website. And all three offer some of the best romance you can find! Also, once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity.

Website: https://nomadauthors.com

Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog

Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN

Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6

LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749

Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas: http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

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The beginning of a war, the ending of a marriage? #MFRWHooks

This is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!
Perilous Love
Blurb:
Adrian Bryce’s world of wealth and beautiful women comes to an end when he’s ordered to accompany his estranged wife to Belgium. The British government want proof Gabrielle’s uncle is supporting the German Empire. What Adrian discovers will plunge him and Gabrielle into a nightmare of betrayal, forcing them to run for their lives as the Germans cross the border. Facing danger, brutality and injury, and painful truths about themselves, they reach safety as two different people. Waiting for them are charges of treason and a woman who’ll stop at nothing to see Adrian dead.

Buy links:
Amazon.com
Barnes & Noble
Goodreads

Excerpt:
“What was she like?”

“What are you talking about?” He scowled, dreading what was coming.

“Sigrid, Maryanne, whatever her name was,” she snapped back.

“What the hell are you trying to do, Gaby? Force an argument?”

“No, I’m not forcing an argument. I really want to know! You preferred that woman’s company to mine and your children’s and, because of her and my uncle and your unbelievable stupidity, two innocent people have died, and we are forced to rely on each other to stay alive. Are you proud of yourself? And was her beauty and obvious bedroom expertise worth all of this?”

Adrian clenched his jaw and turned his head away.

“I’m waiting,” she persisted. “I presume you also showered her with gifts and expensive baubles while we would be lucky to see you on our birthdays.”

Something snapped inside him. His face was tight with fury as he turned back to face her. “If I could get up and walk away, I would. Just what are you trying to achieve? We’ve avoided capture by the skin of our teeth, we have no idea how to get away, the Germans are pouring into Belgium, thousands will be killed, and you want to know if I showered her with gifts. Why don’t we concentrate on getting out of here and then you will be free of me? Now, for Christ’s sake, leave it alone.”

“You want to get up and walk away?” her voice dripped scorn. “Did I walk away from that lonely, empty life, in that big, lonely house? Making excuses to your children, visiting neighbours on my own. Did I show such contempt for my marriage vows?”

“You forgot to mention entertaining Charlton in my home,” he snarled, and then flinched as Gabrielle’s hand slapped his face.

“Yes, your home.” she yelled. “I may have lived there and given birth to your children there, but it was always your home. I pray to God we will return to England and you can enjoy your home with your expensive, treacherous harlots!” Her hands clenched into fists. “Yes! Brian did share my bed. You were never there; you couldn’t care less about me or our children. You were so besotted with that German harlot’s devious charms you had no idea what was going on. She was exceptionally clever, and you were exceptionally stupid.”

Adrian rubbed his cheek and pointed his finger at her. “If you hit me again, you will be sorry. You want to know what she was like. I’ll tell you… She had long wavy auburn hair, a figure that made men’s eyes water and, yes, she had expertise in the bedroom. She could drink me under the table, and she could discuss politics like a man. She was exceptionally clever and, yes, you are right, I was exceptionally stupid, because I hadn’t a clue she was German or she’d bedded a cabinet minister or she’d been on other assignments for your uncle. I hope I’ve answered all your questions and I don’t give a damn whether you believe me or not, but I’m bloody ashamed of myself. And I hope to God we’ll get back to England, so you can do whatever you want, and I won’t have to listen to your harping sarcastic tongue. Are you happy now?”

“Oh yes, very happy, thank you. Who wouldn’t be, sitting with you on the damp ground beside a canal without food or clean clothes,” her eyes glittered with contempt. “How does it feel that you, a cabinet minister and my uncle shared her? I wonder if she kept an inventory of her jewellery and gifts to remember who gave her what.”

He pulled his feet from the water and stood up. “I’m not listening to your ranting anymore, nor am I waiting here for them to find me.”

“You can’t face the truth, can you?” she shouted at him. “Well, unpleasant as it is, you need me and I need you to survive. When we reach safety, you can go back to the life you enjoyed with your sophisticated women without the inconvenience of an unwanted wife. And if we get out of here, I don’t want anything from you. Not even a Christmas card.” Her lip curled. “A gentleman never breaks a business contract, but it’s of no consequence to break your marriage vows.”

Adrian reached down and roughly pulled her up to face him, his eyes black with fury. “I can’t face the truth? It’s a pity you didn’t meet and marry that useless fop Charlton eight years ago, because he’d have been the target for your sainted uncle’s lunacy instead of me! Christ, you haven’t shut up about your miserable marriage, but look where it’s got me! Stitched up like a bloody weaver’s loom, set up as a traitor, hiding like a fugitive. And why? Because I had the temerity to marry you!” He turned his back and hobbled over to the grazing horse. “I’m leaving; are you coming with me or staying here?”

Gabrielle’s face mirrored the shock she felt at Adrian’s words. Her foot lashed out sending a small log into the water and she walked up to Adrian, her fists clenched, then without warning she burst into tears. “I have no choice.” Her voice was raw with emotion. “All I want is to get out of Belgium and go back to my children and never see you again!”

Adrian gripped her arms, his fingers digging into her flesh. “You’ll get your bloody freedom one way or the other. If we get out of this, I’ll gladly give it. If I’m shot, you can play the grieving widow for a day or two. Now shut up and help me get this horse into the shafts.”

He heaved himself into the driving seat, knowing damn well they were suffering reaction to what they’d witnessed. His insides were ripped apart enough without her rubbing his face in it. How could he have been so bloody naïve? His mistress had wheedled far too much information out of him and a senior government minister named Edmund. Good God! Sir Edmund Charters! Close to the PM and related to the Foreign Minister. The old fool must be seventy, and you Bryce, are the biggest fool of all.

About Jan:
Jan Selbourne was born and educated in Melbourne, Australia and her love of literature and history began as soon as she learned to read and hold a pen. After graduating from a Melbourne Business College her career began in the dusty world of ledgers and accounting, working in Victoria, Queensland and the United Kingdom. On the point of retiring, she changed course to work as secretary of a large NSW historical society. Now retired Jan is enjoying her love of travelling and literature. She has two children, a stray live in cat and lives near Maitland, New South Wales.

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Aspects of romance #MFRWauthor

This week, the topic is what is the most important aspect of a romantic relationship. Like anything, there are all kinds of important things to consider in a relationship—trust, compatibility, respect. But I like humor. Not that relationships are all that funny all the time, but being able to laugh at yourself and with your partner will sure make the good times better and the hard times easier.

It should come as no surprise that all relationships have ups and downs. The ups are easy to deal with. The hard times though, they can be killers. Killers of the relationship if you and your partner don’t know how to handle things. Laughter won’t pay your bills or make the baby stop its crying or get your hubby a promotion but it does have some real positive effects on the body and mind. According to the Mayo Clinic short term effects of laughter include:

Stimulate many organs. Laughter enhances your intake of oxygen-rich air, stimulates your heart, lungs and muscles, and increases the endorphins that are released by your brain.
Activate and relieve your stress response. A rollicking laugh fires up and then cools down your stress response, and it can increase and then decrease your heart rate and blood pressure. The result? A good, relaxed feeling.
Soothe tension. Laughter can also stimulate circulation and aid muscle relaxation, both of which can help reduce some of the physical symptoms of stress.

Sometimes, that’s all you need to get past a sudden tense time and give yourself time to breathe so you don’t say or do that thing in any time you wouldn’t want to say or do.

So yes, I want trust and all those other good things in a romantic relationship. And yes, there are definitely times to be serious–problems still exist that need to be solved. But know when to laugh. It’s good for you, for your loved one, and for your relationship.

At least, that’s what I think. What say you?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee

Burning Bridges by Anne Krist–Gold Medal winner, Best Romance 2020, Coffee Pot Book Club
One Woman Only
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers

Romance necessity #MFRWauthor

What’s the most important thing in a romantic relationship?
I believe the most important thing in a romantic relationship is respect. It is the fundamental basis of any relationship and a must in romance.

We often hear or read about couples celebrating their golden or diamond anniversaries. When they are asked the secret of such a long relationship, most reply, “I married my best friend,” and “respect and a good sense of humour.” No one sails through a romantic relationship without a few blow ups and rough times but the essential ingredients that keep us together are mutual love and respect.

A few months ago, before the pandemic restrictions, a local couple celebrated their 70th wedding anniversary at an aged care home surrounded by family and friends. These two nonagenarians sat side by side holding hands while cards and gifts and messages from the prime minister and the Queen were given to them. Would anyone be able to live together and still hold hands after 70 years without respect and affection?

My parents were married for sixty years. While they were not outwardly demonstrative to each other, there was an unspoken solid commitment and real friendship. This gave my brother and I a very secure happy childhood and looking back, it was never ‘mum’ or ‘dad’, it was always ‘mum and dad’.

So, I say ‘respect’ and I’m looking forward to reading what other authors think.

How about you? What do you think?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Jan Selbourne

Perilous Love
The Proposition
The Woman Behind the Mirror
Lies of Gold—Silver Historical for 2019: Coffee Pot Book Club

Coffee Pot Book Club Gold Medal for Burning Bridges!!

I’m so honored and grateful to let you know that my non-erotic romance (written as Anne Krist), Burning Bridges, has been awarded the Gold Medal for Best Romance of 2020 by Coffee Pot Book Club!! You can see the list of all the 2020 winners on Coffee Pot Book Club’s blog page. Scroll nearly to the bottom to find the Romance listings.

Winning recognition for Burning Bridges is wonderful for me personally because it is truly the book of my heart. I lived in Virginia Beach during Vietnam. Jack was #68 in the draft lottery, and had he not been attending school at VMI (they figured they would get him eventually), he would have gone over, just as the book’s hero did. The war touched all of us in that time–especially the lovers.

Blurb:
Not your typical “secret baby” book! This Southern romance packs in the emotion.

Buy link:
Amazon Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt (Sara calls her mother to find out how she came into possession of letters nearly thirty years old, from a man long dead–a man she loved:

“I thought it would be you. Have you read the letters?”

“No. What happened, do you know?” Scattered on the table, the three packets drew her gaze and she stared as though trying to read their meaning through the sealed paper.

“Only what the Department of Navy letter said. Some bags of mail were lost. I suppose if I weren’t still receiving part of Dad’s retirement, they wouldn’t have found me.”

Sara closed her eyes and leaned against the wall. “I mean, do you know what happened to the rest of the letters?”

“What?” There was no mistaking the naked fear in her mother’s voice.

“The envelopes are numbered. I have twenty-eight through thirty. What do you think happened to the others?” Tension radiated through her shoulders and neck. Her mother was about to say something she didn’t want to hear, she knew it.

“Sara, you have to understand, Dad and I only wanted what was best for you. You were a child, a high school senior with a wonderful future in front of you. You’d been accepted at William and Mary. The last thing you needed was to get mixed up with a sailor who would love you and leave you. Which, I might add, is exactly what he did.”

Sara could barely suck air into her lungs. Her fingers whitened with the hold she had on the phone cord. “What did you do, Mother?”

“More than anything, we didn’t want you hurt.” Moments passed. “Your father made the decision, but I was in favor of it, I want you to know that. He’s not here, so if you’re going to get mad, I suppose it will have to be at me.” She ended with a sigh. “After—that man—left Virginia Beach, we determined it would be best for you to make a clean break. We never had any doubt that he was wrong for you. So, we intercepted the letters.”

The blood drained from Sara’s face and she pulled over a chair. If she didn’t sit she’d fall. “You did what? How could you do that?” Her voice broke.

“You put your letters in the mailbox and I took them out after you left for school. And his…”

All too well, Sara remembered days of rushing into the house to sort through the stack of mail on the hall table, never finding a letter from Paul. Each day with no news added a stone to her wall of doubt that he loved her and depleted her store of faith that he’d stand by her.

Sara moaned. “Do you know what you did with your meddling?”

“Sara, you were seventeen, a child. Do you know what that means? He could have gone to jail. Your father was in favor of going to his commanding officer—even to the police. It was fortunate for your friend that his ship left.”

Sara envisioned her mother sitting alone in her living room. About this time each afternoon, a gin and tonic sat on the table beside her. She’d wear a skirt and blouse and her hair and make-up would be flawless. Sara also didn’t doubt that her mother’s posture was rigid and that her thumb rubbed the tips of her index and middle fingers. Those were indications her mother’s emotions—anger, frustration, fear, whatever—were threatening to override her normal control. Today she deserved every terrible, panicky feeling she was experiencing.

Mary Ellen sighed. “Try to see it from our point of view. You were a good girl with a good future. He destroyed all of that in a matter of weeks. You were our responsibility and we protected you the best way we knew how.”

“Protected me!”

“Yes, protected you. We loved you more than anything on earth.” She quieted, as though considering the next bit. “He died in service to his country. That was at least an honorable thing.”

A sob broke from Sara.

Her mother softened her tone. “I have no doubt he might have been a good man, but not for you, and not at that time. I don’t regret ending the relationship, whatever else happened.”

“I can’t believe you did this. I don’t even know what to say to you.” A headache inched its way forward to throb behind her eyes. She used her free hand to block the light coming through the kitchen windows. “The horrid things I thought about him, the certainty I had that he’d forgotten me…all wrong. I mailed the first letters from school. I wish I’d kept on doing that and asked him to write me at Cindy’s house. Who knows what might have happened?”

“Sara, it’s been so long. I thought you’d be able to understand after all this time, but maybe I was wrong. Put the whole episode with that man behind you, darling. Just throw those letters out. What difference could they possibly make now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Darling? We shouldn’t talk about this over the phone. I can be there in a few minutes and then—”

Sara’s eyes shot open. “No! I may never forgive you for this, Mother. In fact, I’m hanging up before I say something I probably shouldn’t.”

“Sara, let me—”

Sara pressed the end icon and dropped her phone onto the table. Vaulting from the chair, she paced around the kitchen table. Squared stopped eating and turned to watch, his Siamese-blue eyes following her path. In agitation, she picked up the letter from the Navy, glanced unseeing at the words then tossed it back. Stomping to the sink, she poured a glass of water, then drank it all without taking a breath. Finally, she turned and stared at Paul’s envelopes.

Reader and Reviewer comments:
Readers:
“I loved it! And now my daughter’s reading it.” Sherry, a reader

“I give Burning Bridges 6 stars out of 5!! A true love story…I’m ready for more.” – A reader, Byron, TaylorMade Bod

“I loved it, just loved it! I was going to take it with me on vacation but I started reading and didn’t want to stop. It was addictive.” – Chiara, a reader

“Loved it. Just loved it.” – Beverly, a Beaufort reader

Reviewers:
“Burning Bridges by Anne Krist is a story of a love that will not be denied — that cannot be denied. Time does not change what the soul knew before Sara and Paul ever met. Their love is eternal, and they can weather any storm, any lie, to the very end of time if necessary. I loved every minute of this book. If you are looking for your next great romance, then look no further. Burning Bridges has it all, and then some.
I Highly Recommend._
Review by Mary Anne Yarde.
The Coffee Pot Book Club.

“If you love dramatic family sagas with plenty of emotion, you have to read Burning Bridges. Highly recommend!”
N.N. Light

“…an emotionally captivating tale from beginning to end. … a beautiful story about a young love ripped apart that burns bright through two decades of separation.”
5 Ribbons, Chrissy Dionne, Romance Junkies

“I absolutely adored this story … packed with real emotion … There was a powerful “WOW” factor…”
5 Hearts and Reviewer Top Pick, Diana, Night Owl Romance

“Rarely does a story come along which touches one in countless ways from every affecting scene, yet this writer does so with her first release. The name of Anne Krist will become recognized as an author who conveys genuine and heightened feelings between her memorable characters.

With surprising twists and believable interplay between characters, BURNING BRIDGES is an unforgettable love story filled with passionate desires and potent emotions.”
5 Stars, Amelia, eCataRomance, eCataromance Reviewers’ Choice Award Winner

“Burning Bridges is a yummy romance. Anne Krist has a talent for conveying great emotion. Keep a box of tissues close at hand when you read Burning Bridges. I was wiping tears throughout the book. The plot quickly captured my interest, and I felt I was part of the drama. The tension between Paul and Sara (both are stubborn and hardheaded) left me tingling. The love they shared was obvious. I did not want this story to end. Fans of romance should place Burning Bridges at the top of this summer’s reading list.”
5 Stars, Anne, Review Your Book

“…a strong and poignant love story… Displaying unwavering talent when dealing with delicate situations, Anne Krist’s BURNING BRIDGES stayed with me long after I finished.”
5 Pixies Recommended Read, Twila King, Dark Angel Reviews

“Ms. Krist has a heart-warming, emotional story on her hands. … This is one I highly recommend!”
5 Cups, Krista, Coffee Time Romance

5 Stars from N.N. Light!

About Anne:
Anne Krist is the “sister” to erotic romance author Dee S. Knight. She is quieter, more reserved, and certainly more circumspect about S-E-X than her wild and crazy sibling. Thus, she’s more comfortable writing sweet(er) romance, where there might be a few sensual scenes, but no more than that. One thing about Anne: she’s not less romantic than Dee. They both write in happily ever after and share the solid belief that love can last forever and beyond!

Website: https://nomadauthors.com

Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog

Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN

Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6

LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749

Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas: http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

Unintended consequences #MFRWsteam

Only a Good Man Will Do

Blurb:
Seriously anal man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife in order to set a good example. That’s what Daniel wants. Too bad what he gets is one hell of a sexy woman who doesn’t care for rules.

Buy link:
Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt:
“Hello?” Eve’s voice sounded as smooth and sexy as it had last Friday when she’d whispered harder into Daniel’s ear. Then, he’d been driving into her. Now he was passively listening over the phone, and still her voice had him hard in seconds.

Unfortunately, the sex had been on Friday, and this was Monday. A long, lonely weekend had intervened, making his cock twitch in protest that he was on the Westover Academy campus and she was miles away in her apartment above The Bare Moose tavern.

“Did I interrupt you? Are you already at work?” He hoped not. He wanted her in her apartment, wearing nothing but silky stockings and heels.

“No, I was changing and thought you might call, so I stopped dressing. I’m stretched out on the bed right now.”

He couldn’t believe she meant what he thought she meant. “You’re naked?”

“Naked, hot and wet. Dripping wet, wishing your cock was deep inside me.” Her voice dropped an octave; his dick grew an inch.

“God, you’re going to kill me.” Imagining her with no clothes, spread wide and aching for him the way he ached for her, he unzipped his trousers and released his cock from his briefs. His cool hand caressing the shaft didn’t begin to lessen the fiery desire fueling his erection.

“Baby, it’s what you do to me,” she purred. “My nipples are at attention, hard and peaked, and I can feel you sucking them. Your mouth is so hot, your tongue is rough on my sensitive skin.”

“I love your tits, God knows I do, but I want to taste your pussy.”

“I’m open and waiting. But I warn you, I’m so close, just a lick will make me come.”

She thought she was close? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d jacked off, and he’d never had phone sex. Jonah had told him once that he had had phone sex and how fucking hot it had been. Daniel hadn’t been able to imagine that it could compare in any way to the real thing—and he was right, of course. But in lieu of the real thing, Jonah was right. It was fucking hot.

“Put your lips on me, Daniel. Lick me up.”

Titillating nuances, double entendres, maybe a hint that he might get lucky at the end of an evening—that had been the extent of his sensual telephone experiences. Those experiences were as far from this as, well, North Carolina small town life was from Westover Academy. Eve was inviting him to eat her, and there was no way he’d disappoint.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna do more than lick.” Scrunched down in his leather armchair, still dressed in his suit and gown from class, he stroked his length, only vaguely aware he’d slipped into his Carolina drawl. “You’re so sweet, Eve, your cream is like honey. And your smell.” Closing his eyes, he inhaled as though his nose could really detect the bouquet of her arousal. “I think in a room of women I could find you just by your scent if you were aroused.”

“If you were looking for me, I’d be aroused.”

Faster and harder, he pumped his dick.

“Is your clit sensitive? I’ve sucked it into my mouth and it’s swollen and thick against my tongue. And don’t worry, I’ve slipped a couple fingers in your sweet, wet pussy, and we’re jammin’, honey. Most of my face is covered in your juices.”

“God! Can you come with me?”

“Yeah, oh yeah, one second.” His breath caught. He jacked his strokes until his hand was a piston. “Now, sweetheart, now!” Daniel growled the words as his cock pulsed, shooting cum into his palm, which deflected it away from his shirt and vest.

Caught up in his release, he wasn’t too far gone to hear Eve’s panting breaths and soft whimpers. He wanted her to scream, to wrap herself around him and let the sounds and convulsions of her orgasm reverberate through him.

Finally, he heard her soft breathing. “Eve?”

“Yes, Tony, thanks so much. I’d better go now before my friend Daniel calls.”

He shot up half-way. “What the fu—” Her laughter stopped him dead, and he caught the joke. About to rake his fingers through his hair, he took a look at what covered his palm and reached over to pick up an unused napkin from the coffee table. With some difficulty, he wiped his hand and cleaned himself. “Please tell me you’re really naked and that wasn’t an act.”

“Believe me, Mr. Goodman, that was no act. That was incredible.”

“Thank God. I’ll have to have this suit dry cleaned and I’d hate to think it was for a one-sided hand job.” He chuckled but his voice and tone were once again Daniel Goodman, Ph.D., all trace of North Carolina gone.

She laughed again. “I like that you called before you even changed clothes. You’re not going to stick me with the cleaning bill, are you?”

“When I stick you with something, it won’t be a bill.” He smiled at her chuckle. “How did you know it was me calling?”

“Well, let’s see…”

In his mind, he pictured her lying on her back and staring at the ceiling, one leg bent and the other across it, swinging as she talked. One finger would be twirling a long strand of her hair, her cheeks would be pink and glowing, and her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. How could he be so in tune with a woman he’d met barely a week ago? It seemed a miracle. For the millionth time he wished she had a nice, respectable job, where she’d fit into the Academy culture and he wouldn’t be risking his career to date her openly.

About Dee:
A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

Where to find her (them):
Website: https://nomadauthors.com

Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog

Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN

Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6

LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749

Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas: http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

New from Callie Carmen: Joshua!

Thank you, Dee and Jan for having me as a guest on your wonderful blog.

What Inspires Me

As a writer, I’m often asked to tell what inspires me. The first novel I wrote was Patrick. My soul mate and husband inspired that novel. I’ve dedicated my latest book, Joshua, to my husband for showing me it’s worth waiting for the right person. Bella, the protagonist from Joshua, had to learn that lesson the hard way.

For me, it is easier to write about things I know. Things I feel and understand. That doesn’t mean that I don’t have to do research for parts of my story. I find romance works for me because I was lucky enough to feel the difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. To laugh with them and talk about what’s important with the other. To never stop learning and taking an interest in each other’s day.

Often when children come along in the relationship, couples get lost in the child’s life. The spark between the duo diminishes. When the children move out the pair finds they have almost nothing in common. While my husband and I love our children and were involved with most of their activities, we never allowed ourselves to become less important to each other. After thirty years, we are still each other’s favorite person.

While writing Joshua, I pulled from the emotions my husband and I shared over the years. It allowed me to make my characters Joshua and Bella’s interaction with each other feel real.

Dedication
I felt most comfortable writing romance novels because I had firsthand knowledge of how it felt when I found my soul mate. We fell in love the night we met and have been happily married for over thirty years.

My husband is also my best friend and biggest supporter in my writing endeavor. He never complains about the countless hours I spend writing, editing, marketing, and training other authors how to set up and use social media. He often rolls over during the night and finds me with my computer on my lap working.

I sometimes work in bed late into the night. He just gives me a kiss pats my thigh and says, ‘I love you. Goodnight.’

During the morning of 9/11 I thought I had lost him. He’d been on a plane right at the time all the craziness was happening. They’d redirected the plane to a Canadian airport, and it wasn’t until eleven that night that they allowed him a thirty second call home. He’d had no idea what had happened here in America as they had kept the passengers on the plane that entire time except for the one man that they had taken off the flight in handcuffs. I had spent that day fearing that I’d lost my favorite person in the world.

If you’re a chicken like me on a ride like the Tower of Terror in Disney World, you understand the dread felt during the straight up climb to the top. That was how I felt all day on 9/11. When I finally heard his voice, it was like the ride dropped, and a rush of electricity stormed through me from relief and joy that he was still mine. I have a sound foundation how to develop a hardworking, intelligent, loyal, loving, and sexy male character because I’m married to my idea of the perfect role model.

Blurb JOSHUA (Book Five Risking Love)
Bella spent the last year with a man that barely touched her. It was high time that she got some hot, passionate sex. The only problem was it couldn’t be with just anybody. It had to be with someone special.

Should she choose the gorgeous club owner? Or the mysterious, sexy businessman? Which of them would let her explore a secret desire for a little non-vanilla passion in and out of the bedroom?
Joshua is the fifth novel in the Risking Love series. The stories chart a group of friends through life and love. These steamy stories will have you laughing, crying, and your heart racing.

Buy links:
Universal