Category: Book Topics

Here you’ll learn about a particular book or find a discussion about books and various genre.

New release!! Burning Bridges by Anne Krist

Did you ever tell a lie for so long that even you believed it? And then got caught? Ah… Then you understand Sara in Anne Krists’ Burning Bridges.

Burning Bridges by Anne Krist
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.

Publisher: Nomad Authors Publishing
Release date: January 20, 2020
Buy link: mybook.to/BurningBridges
Price: $2.99 (for eBook), $9.99 (for paperback), KU
Word count: 83,000

Years ago, while visiting my mother in Virginia, I heard a news story. Up in Lynchburg, a mail carrier had died. When his family was cleaning out the property, they discovered two bags of mail decades old thrown into the back of his garden shed. The story was, maybe the man hadn’t felt like working one day and stuffed the bags into the place where they’d lain all this time. I immediately wondered how lives had been changed because one man decided not to do his job that day. Had people not received bills? Birthday cards? Expected packages?

Letters of love?

The Post Office did their best to deliver the lost mail, but what life went one direction instead of another because of that one slip of fate?

Thus came the story of Burning Bridges, where Sara Richards’ life changes not only because of letters she didn’t receive but because of the letters she did, decades late.

Burning Bridges is a true love story, begun in Virginia Beach as the Vietnam War is winding down—though no one knew that at the time—and ending in the Lowcountry of South Carolina, where two soul mates find each other again. Do they stay together?

Ah. I’ve already said it’s a true love story, but sometimes, even true love has a way of not quite holding on.

I hope you enjoy the book of my heart, Burning Bridges.

Burning Bridges by Anne Krist

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.

Burning Bridges by Anne Krist

Some reader comments about Burning Bridges:

“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

“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

Burning Bridges by Anne Krist

Author Anne Krist:

 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. Also, once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity. Contact Anne at annekrist@nomadauthors.com.

Website: https://nomadauthors.com/annekrist/index.html

New release! Lust in Dalat: Lisabet Sarai

Lust in Dalat by Lisabet Sarai

LUST IN DALAT Asian Adventures, Book 6 
Lust can be a revelation.

The woman in the window seat to my right had more flesh than I’d usually find attractive, and most of it was on display. But she wasn’t trying to tease. Every detail—the silver hoops in her earlobes, the teakwood clasp in her hair, the anklet decorating her high-arched foot—broadcast confidence and a healthy disdain for anyone else’s opinion. A woman alone, on a public conveyance, in a foreign country, Helen nevertheless looked thoroughly at home.

And me? Traveling outside of the U.S. for the first time in my life, I was nervous, inexperienced, awkward and excited. Especially excited. With Helen in the next seat, who wouldn’t be?

Buy Links:

Kinky Literature
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Smashwords
Barnes and Noble
Kobo
Goodreads

Excerpt:

She was practically naked.

I tried not to stare as I clambered barefoot onto the bus that would take us from the steamy, crowded streets of Saigon to the Dalat highlands. My sandals stuffed into a plastic bag provided by the management, I peered at my ticket and tried to locate the corresponding seat. Well, “seat” wasn’t exactly the appropriate word. Three double-tiered racks of padded, bed-like recliners ran from the front to the back, one on each side of the bus and one down the middle, with narrow aisles between them. This was a “sleeping bus”, designed for the twelve to twenty hour overnight trips common in Vietnam.

“A or B?”

“What?” She was obviously talking to me. I had to look at her.

The woman in the window seat to my right had more flesh than I’d usually find attractive, and most of it was on display. Her light, floral-patterned sundress had spaghetti straps, one of which had slipped down over her smooth shoulder. Her massive breasts shifted underneath, every time she moved. The short hem rode up to expose her big but surprisingly firm thighs. She was fair-haired with a peaches-and-cream complexion—her accent suggested she was a Brit. The dress was thin enough, though, that I could make out darker patches surrounding her nipples.

“Your seat number.” She gestured at the ticket dangling from my fingers. Her lush tits swayed. “A is down here; B is on the upper level.”

“Oh—um—A. 12 A.” Geez. Working on my PhD and I couldn’t manage a coherent sentence.

“That’s right here, next to me.” She flashed me an easy smile, pointing to the middle row. “A pity, you won’t have as good a view. Of course, if you have any tendency toward motion sickness, the middle is better.”

The other strap flopped down her arm. Idly, she pushed it back into place. “I’m Helen,” she said, sitting up a bit, so that her breasts bounced. She offered her hand—short fingernails, clear lacquer, a silver ring on the thumb.

Her skin was as soft as it looked. “Geri,” I replied, struggling to ignore the accelerating pulse between my legs.

About Lisabet:

Lisabet Sarai has been addicted to words all her life. 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 – nearly 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, along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance, she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter. Sign up for her VIP email list here.

Writing Programs? #MFRWauthor

PlottingI really don’t know any writing programs, so I suspect I don’t use them. Or maybe this means writing tips and suggestions? Those I use—on and off.

For instance, I have The Plot Doctor (I think that’s the name but I can’t find it anymore on Google). I tried using it, but it had too many things for me to do before I start writing. I did pick up the character sheet idea, though, and continue to use it. Sometimes.

Another tip I picked from The Plot Doctor is the idea of dividing the book into parts. I loosely (very loosely) break the plot into six parts and determine what will happen at each part. I’d never done that before, and found that the beginning of the story might take up more space than the midpoint. Now I control that better.

I’ve looked into the Snowflake method and a few other plotting ideas, but Snowflake method of plottingnothing works for me except what I use—which is nothing like a plotting program! Sometimes I start a book with only a kernel of an idea, and that’s kind of too little to use in a plotting program.

Kayelle Allen shared a program with members of MFRW last year. It’s really more of an organizational tool, called Archivos. It’s not a plotting tool exactly, but I can see where it would help in plotting. I’m planning to use it for the series I’ll be starting shortly.

What do you use to organize your plots? If you have a program that works for you, I’d love to hear about it!

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

Dee
One Woman Only: The Good Man Series, Book 2 Jonah’s story! Can a simple mechanic rekindle with his high school love? She says no, but Jonah loves a challenge!

Mystic Desire
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers

New! The Turkish Affair by J. Arlene Culiner

The Turkish Affair by Jill Culiner

The setting for The Turkish Affair is an archaeological site in central Turkey. My heroine, Anne, is a former American journalist who, after a scandalous affair with the wrong man, lost her job and her reputation. For the last ten years, she’s been in hiding, living in backwoods Turkey, working as a translator. She’s not interested in romance, an affair, or a partner: falling in love is just too painful. Besides, in any relationship, you have to reveal who you are — and that’s something she’ll never do.

My hero, Renaud Townsend is an archaeologist. He’s passionate about his work, about ancient history, about discovery, and about keeping his independence. The last thing he’s ever wanted is a permanent relationship. He knows that, after the first excitement and immediate desire, any love story becomes humdrum. Humdrum is what he’s determined to avoid.

But how do you fight an instant attraction? What happens when caring slips into the picture and trust becomes important? Throw in some artifact theft, a difficult climate, corrupt police, a murder, an empty beige plain surrounded by dark mountains, and the story begins.

The blurb:

Love and Danger at the ancient Hittite site of Karakuyu

Priceless artifacts are disappearing from the ancient Hittite site of Karakuyu in Turkey, and the site director has vanished. Called in to solve the mystery, archaeologist Renaud Townsend is hindered by both his inability to speak the language and the knowledge that the local police are corrupt. His attraction to translator Anne Pierson is immediate, although he is troubled by her refusal to talk about the past and her fear of public scandal. But when murder enters the picture, both Anne and Renaud realize that the risk of falling in love is not the only danger.

The Turkish Affair by Jill Culiner

Excerpt:

A delicious breeze tickled the air, and the little boat rocked gently. A fine line appeared between his brows, and his blue eyes were, once again, serious. “I need your help.”

She stared. “My help? With what? Translating?”

“No. With something else. I have to find out who is behind the thefts at Karakuyu.”

The feeling of dread returned, but she forced herself to sound casual. “How could I possibly help you with that?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed. “I suppose I just don’t want to feel that I’m alone in this.”

What could she say to that? Tell him she was the last person he should team up with? That long ago, she’d escaped arrest by the skin of her teeth? If she did so, this splendid moment would be over. The silver-foil glimmer of romance would be tarnished forever. He’d row back to shore, drive back to Gülkale, get rid of her as quickly as possible.

“Anne?” He reached out to caress her bare arm. “Come back from wherever you are.”

“You know nothing about me,” she said jaggedly.

“Nothing,” he agreed.

She swallowed. “I could be involved in the thefts for all you know. Why ask for my help? Why choose me?”

He smiled faintly. “A good question. I suppose, quite simply, I need—or want—to trust you.”

She felt utterly miserable. Why was life always like this? Wanting someone and not being able to have them? Wanting trust, but seeing it snatched away before it came close?

“Okay, then.” His voice was surprisingly tender. “If I promise not to probe into secrets, do I have the right to ask one question?”

She nodded with resignation.

“Can I trust you?”

The answer to that was simple enough. “Yes. Of course you can.”

His returning smile was radiant. “Good.”

She stared helplessly at the strong, angular features highlighted by the merciless sun. “That’s crazy. You’re willing to take my word for it? I could be lying.”

He leaned forward, cupped her chin in his hand, and met her gaze evenly. “No way. Not with a face as expressive as yours.”

Buy link: Amazon

The Turkish Affair by Jill Culiner

Let’s meet J. Arlene Culiner:

NA: How did you come up with the idea for The Turkish Affair?
JAC: Many events in this book are true. Like my heroine, I worked as a translator and guide in backwoods Turkey. The story of the police demanding that archaeologists verify whether smuggled coins are fakes, is absolutely true: I accompanied the three archaeologists. Leyla, the very brave and rebellious young woman who rescues Anne from a dangerous situation on a back road, really does exist. She rescued me. And one day, while passing through an archaeological site in Turkey, I briefly caught sight of a lean and elegant man. As he headed toward a jumble of smashed pillars, the bright sun caught the golden blaze of his hair. He was the inspiration for Renaud Townsend, the hero of The Turkish Affair.

NA: What is the main thing you want readers to take away from your book?
JAC: Of course I want my readers to enjoy the lovely, sometimes difficult, romance between Anne and Renaud, but I’m also taking them on an exotic journey to a little known part of the world — to backwoods Turkey — where, on an archaeological site, they’ll experience the thrill of discovery as well as danger. In other words, I’m offering armchair travel with no airport hassle, no check-in lines, no bumpy plane ride. Only the pleasure of a good tale, and the chance to solve a mystery along with my hero and heroine.

NA: Do you have a day job? What was your job before you started writing full time?
JAC: I am a contemporary artist doing social-critical work, and a photographer (you can get an idea of what I do at: http://www.jill-culiner.com) I also, occasionally, get acting work. However, I have always written. I once wrote and broadcast stories on Radio France, and I have piles of unpublished (and pretty awful) manuscripts that I wrote over the years.

NA: What do your friends and family think about your being a writer?
JAC: Who knows? I suppose they are somewhat admiring, but only one friend actually reads my books because she’s English. All my other friends are French and can’t read what I write. Bernard, my partner, knows no English.

NA: Do you outline books ahead of time or are you more of a by-the-seat-of-your-pants writer?
JAC: I don’t know. I never write outlines, and I think about each paragraph in a first draft for quite a while before actually writing it down. That’s a slow way to work, I know, but building up an atmosphere, and writing beautiful sentences is important to me.

NA: What has been one of your most rewarding experiences as an author?
JAC: Winning the Tannenbaum Prize for Canadian Jewish History for my non-fiction work, Finding Home, and being short-listed for the 2005 ForeWord Magazine prize.

NA: What do you like to do when you’re not writing?
JAC: I’m an amateur musician, and like many impassioned amateurs, I belong to two orchestras, two wind bands, and a chamber music group. I play the oboe, flute, piccolo, tuba, and all the instruments in the baroque oboe family.

NA: A pet peeve
JAC: Noise. People talking on their telephones in restaurants, on buses and trains.

NA: Why did you choose the shirt you have on?
JAC: I didn’t choose it. I wear all my sweetie’s castoffs. He hates frayed collars and cuffs. I love the baggy old things.

NA: First thought when the alarm goes off in the in the morning?
JAC: No alarm, but I try to force myself to get out of bed at around six and write for two hours.

NA: What errand/chore do you despise the most?
JAC: All housework. We both avoid it like the plague, and the dust bunnies are quite vicious in our house.

NA: What are you working on now?
JAC: I’m working on a series of novellas that start in 1889 and go up to today. They all take place in a town in the Nevada desert, Blake’s Folly, which is the setting for two of my contemporary romances, All About Charming Alice, and, Desert Rose. But I’ll tell you about those another time…

NA: What is any question we didn’t ask that you would like to answer?
JAC: Good heavens, I can’t even think of one. But just in case anyone wants to know, I have four animals adopted from the local pound: two happy indoor cats (my garden is a bird, reptile, and butterfly refuge, so they aren’t allowed out) and two big silly dogs.

Author Bio:

Jill CulinerWriter, photographer, social critical artist, musician, and occasional actress, J. Arlene Culiner, was born in New York and raised in Toronto. She has crossed much of Europe on foot, has lived in a Hungarian mud house, a Bavarian castle, a Turkish cave-dwelling, on a Dutch canal, and in a haunted house on the English moors. She now resides in a 400-year-old former inn in a French village of no interest and, much to local dismay, protects all creatures, especially spiders and snakes. She particularly enjoys incorporating into short stories, mysteries, narrative non-fiction, and romances, her experiences in out-of-the-way communities, and her conversations with strange characters.

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New Sci-Fi! Codename Salamander by Herbert Grosshans

Codename Salamander by Herbert Grosshans

Codename Salamander, Book 1 of the Operation Stargate series

Blurb:

Xenologist Bret Grayson was hired to make contact with one of the indigenous tribes roaming the savannas on the planet Salamander. He soon finds out the real purpose he is on Salamander. His uncle, the legendary Master Scout Terrex Stonewall, also has a hidden agenda, but even he doesn’t know about the secret that lies beneath the original military outpost. It seems every species living in this part of the Galaxy has a sudden interest in Salamander and they are willing to risk a war to keep the secret from falling into human hands. Grayson and Stonewall have no choice but to form an alliance with representatives from the Spiders, the Anorians, and the Accilla. The motley group embarks on a journey that takes them to regions unknown. They face dangers they can only overcome if they set aside their prejudices and work together as one unit.

Excerpt:
There was a time when everyone who knew Phillip Lacrosse considered him a handsome man. Handsome and young. Now he was neither. Now he was just a lonely, crabby old man who should have retired a long time ago. That had been his plan, but what does a man do with his time after losing his wife and two daughters?

Lacrosse studied the picture of the woman and the two girls at her side, the only piece of memorabilia left of his family. Everything else was destroyed when a pirate ship attacked and blew up the transporter that was supposed to take them to one of the newly established colonies.

The pirates had been members of the reptilian species known as Mollard. It didn’t matter to Lacrosse which one of the Dragon races had been responsible. He had little love for any of the scaly races. Even the fact that a Union Battle Cruiser hunted and obliterated the pirate ship did nothing to appease Lacrosse and to change his attitude toward the Dragons.

After the mishap with his family, his plans changed. He had no reason to retire and spend his time feeling sorry for himself. When Salamander Mining Ventures offered him the position of Supervisor of Salamander Town he accepted. The planet was far enough from civilization and established trade routes to make it the ideal place for a man like him. Of course, his loneliness was not the only reason he accepted the offered position. The people he worked for urged him to forget about retirement, because he was the ideal candidate for that job.

Salamander Mining paid him a salary he would have died for years ago, but now it meant nothing. He would probably die a rich man. Without heirs, all his wealth would go to the Agency, but that was okay.
He stopped contemplating and looked up when the door to his office opened. A man wearing the brown uniform of the Scouts entered. Behind him stood four humans he had never seen before. At least, he didn’t remember them.

“Master Scout Stonewall, what can I do for you?” He scanned the faces of the strangers. Two men and two women, dressed in primitive clothing fashioned from swamp grass.

“I just returned from a training exercise,” Stonewall said. “We ran into some people you may want to meet, sir.”

Lacrosse wasn’t aware of a ship carrying civilians landing on Salamander, not in the recent past anyway. The only ship he knew of was the one that arrived only a couple of weeks before, but that one had landed by the original outpost.

“Where did you find them?” he asked.

“Actually, they found us. They’re not really people, by that I mean they’re not humans.”

Lacrosse looked past Stonewall. “They look human to me. Are they androids?”

“No, sir, not androids.” Stonewall smiled thinly. “They’re Accilla.”

Buy links:

Melange Books
LULU FOR PRINT
Amazon Kindle
Amazon Print
Smashwords
Nook

Let’s meet Herbert:

NA: Herbert, welcome and thank you for being here.
HG: Thank you for having me and giving me the opportunity to tell readers about myself.

NA: How did you come up with the idea for your Codename Salamander?
Codename Salamander is actually the fifth book in a series I originally called ‘The Spider Wars’, which started with ‘Outpost Epsilon’, the precursor of the series. The main character in that book was a man by the name of Derek Stonewall, a young Scout in the Solar Union. The next 3 books in that series were published under ‘Lizard World’. Outpost Savanna takes place 15 years after the events in ‘Lizard World’. To avoid confusion and allow me to write more books in the ‘Lizard World’ series I dropped ‘The Spider Wars’ and changed the series name of the first 4 books to ‘The Stonewall Chronicles’ and created another series which takes place in the same universe. The new series name is ‘Operation Stargate’, of which Codename Salamander is the first volume. I’ve always liked reading stories about outposts, so I created a planet with an outpost. Derek Stonewall, one of the characters, already existed, but he was getting old and that’s why his nephew appeared. The other characters came into existence as they were needed.

NA: What sort of research did you do to write this book?
Not much. The universe in which the planet Salamander exists was already there. The aliens featured in the book also existed already. I brought one of the characters, Scout Derek Stonewall, to the outpost and went from there.

NA: What is the main thing you want readers to take away from your book?
I want them to travel with me to an imaginary world, experience and enjoy the excitement of meeting peoples different from us humans on the outside, but realizing that even if they don’t look like us, inside they are just like us. They have desires and aspirations the same as ours. Even though they may be more advanced technologically, they still have faults and are not perfect. I want my readers to see that it is possible to get along with others, no matter how different we all may seem. That getting along is the only way to a peaceful existence here on our own planet and in the rest of the universe.

NA: Do you have a day job? What was your job before you started writing full time?
I am retired. I used to be an electrical contractor before I retired. Writing isn’t my full-time job. I have many other interests which I pursue, but writing stories is my main hobby.

NA: What started you on the path to writing?
Even as a kid I told stories and to start writing them down was a natural progression. I’ve always had a fertile imagination and I want to share the adventures I dream up in my head with others.

NA: What do your friends and family think about your being a writer?
Without making this a religious thing, I’d like to quote something from the Bible. Mark 6:4. ‘Then Jesus told them, “A prophet is honored everywhere except in his own hometown and among his relatives and his own family.”
I’m a writer not a prophet, but that quote pretty much answers the question. I read one time about Arnold Schwarzenegger, who, besides being a super-movie-star, became the governor of California, but in his hometown he was still the local yokel.

One of my friends once said to me, “I’m not going to pay to read your books.” Most of them don’t read Science Fiction, if they read at all. My wife reads my stories only because I ask her to.

Even though my sons are avid readers, I don’t think they’ve read any of my books. [I share this with you! I write erotic romance. I realize it’s not for everyone, but it’s not for anyone–apparently–in my circle of family or friends. It’s a bit annoying, isn’t it?]

NA: Do you outline books ahead of time or are you more of a by-the-seat-of-your-pants writer?
I am more of a by-the-seat-of-your-pants writer. If I get an idea for a story, I jot it down, but then I wait for inspiration, not really knowing where I’m going with what I wrote down. One of my stories started with ‘She had emerald eyes.’ I heard that phrase in a song and it intrigued me. Then I sat there and stared at the page thinking, ‘Okay. I established that. She has emerald eyes. Now what?’ Then I wrote down another sentence and another until I had the first paragraph. I wrote more and more and I had the first chapter, still not really knowing where it would lead, but now my imagination began to work and ideas popped into my head. A story began to develop. I ended up writing two books from that one sentence. Eden’s Gate and Hell’s Gate. I called the series Seeds of Chaos.

Once I’m deeper into the story, I will try to write an outline, but that is only there as a guide. My characters usually don’t follow that outline and take me into a completely different direction. I’m always amazed how things fall into place in the end.

NA: Which kind of scenes are the hardest for you to write? Action, dialogue, sex?
I have to say action. I have no problem writing dialogue. The easiest scenes for me to write are sex-scenes, but since I try to keep those scenes out of my stories now, I have to work a little harder with the other two.

NA: What do you like to do when you’re not writing?
I listen to music. I work in my garden in the summer. I have a couple of aquariums with fish, which I take care of. I enjoy fishing and hunting. I belong to a hunting and fishing club where I am the membership chairman and I enjoy that. I write articles for our newsletter. I make my own fishing jigs and I built bird houses and other projects. I fix things around the house. I make soups. I like to blog and read other blogs. I read news articles on line. I go shopping with my wife. I spend my evenings with my wife watching TV. We like movies, comedies, and many of the action shows. We never miss the news. The list is endless. Let’s put it this way: I’m never bored. In fact, there isn’t enough time in a day for all the things I like to do.

You may notice that reading books isn’t on the list. That’s because I rarely read books anymore. I used to be a bookworm and spent much of my time reading. Now I can’t find the time to invest in a long story. I’d rather write my own. I have an extensive library and I have read all the books. I wish I had the time to read many of them again, but now I look at them fondly, remembering the pleasure they brought me when I read them. My hope is now that I can bring the same joy to readers with my stories.

NA: What are your top three favorite books of all time?
That is a tough question for me to answer. There are so many. Perhaps I should tell you who my top three favorite authors are. Let’s see: A. E. van Vogt. Philip José Farmer. Leigh Bracket. I could go on. The list is long. All of them influenced my writing.

NA: A pet peeve.
Women wearing ripped jeans. Honestly. I wouldn’t even wear those when I work in the garden. When I grew up, people, especially girls, dressed in nice clothes. Even poor people that couldn’t afford new clothes didn’t walk around in rags. My wife tells me to get over it. [LOL!]

NA: First thought when the alarm goes off in the morning?
I wonder what the weather will be like today.

NA: What famous person would you like to have dinner with?
God. I would ask him why the Hell He created this insane, violent, and destructive race and let it loose on a beautiful planet like Earth.

NA: What are you working on now? Book 3 in my series Operation Stargate. The working title is The Aregon Files.

NA: What is any question we didn’t ask that you would like to answer?
How do you keep track of time-lines, your characters, and the places and locations your characters visit?

I create charts and I make maps. Drawing maps is part of the enjoyment I get while writing a story. Sometimes, just looking at the map gets my creative juices flowing. I also make lists of the characters. At first, they are just names, but as the story develops, I flesh out the characters and write backgrounds for them, like their age, appearance, place of birth, parents, brothers and sister, and any other relevant information I may need or not.
To make sure I don’t screw up the time it takes between one scene and another, I make a list of dates and events.

Here’s Herbert:

Herbert Grosshans was born in Germany. Even as a young boy he was already a voracious reader. He read every book in the small School library at least three times. His teacher gave him even a few books from his own private collection. His favorite books were stories about heroes and gods. He loved the old legends. At age fourteen, a friend gave him a Science Fiction book and he fell in love with that genre, saving his allowance to buy every SF book he could find, but he also loved Westerns and Mysteries. Later he became a member of the Science Fiction Club Deutschland (Germany) and began writing his own stories. One of his short stories was made into a play and broadcast via radio to schools in Germany.

In his early twenties, he emigrated to Canada. He began reading books written in English and studied to become proficient in this new language. And there was no better way to learn than to also write. Writing became his passion and he enjoyed making his fertile imagination come alive in his stories. During his lunch hour, he wrote into a scribbler and at home he pounded away on his manual typewriter whenever time allowed. The majority of his stories were science fiction.

With the arrival of computers and the internet it suddenly became a lot easier to write, and, most importantly, to get published. His first full length novel Daughter of the Dark, Book 1 of his ‘The Xandra’ series was published in 2006 by Midnight Showcase. Then followed Book 2, Mother of Light, and Book 3, Goddess of Life. The series has since grown to eight volumes. So far, Herbert has published more than 30 books in different genres. Most of Herbert’s stories contain erotica and are for adult readers. His books are available from his publisher Melange Books, LLC, but also from Amazon and other outlets. To find out more about Herbert’s books, please, visit his website and his blog.

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Out Now! Moonstone by Lucy Felthouse

Moonstone by Lucy Felthouse

Moonstone (@cw1985)

Do you love reverse harem romances? Love Christmas books? Then check out Moonstone!

Moonstone is a standalone, contemporary, reverse harem romance, which is part of the Jewels Café series—all of which can be read as standalones.

Blurb:
Christmas gifts aren’t the only surprises Ginny is going to get this year.
Moonstone Guinevere ‘Ginny’ Miles is in Silver Springs visiting her parents for the holidays. They moved to the town five years ago, and adore their new life here. Used to the hustle and bustle of London, England, Ginny isn’t convinced at first—what’s so great about a small town in Upstate New York, anyway? Despite her own opinions, it’s clear to Ginny the move has done her parents the world of good—they look years younger. There’s clearly something magical about this town.

Following some exploration of her own, Ginny discovers Silver Springs has its charms—Jewels Cafe is amazing, for starters, as is its pumpkin spice latte. Ginny’s drunk a lot of lattes in her thirty-three years, but nothing quite like this.

Her taste buds are still tingling from the tasty treat when she comes across a broken-down truck on the way back to her parents’ place. And when she spots the three gorgeous guys with the vehicle, it’s not just her taste buds that are tingling.

Is Ginny’s vacation in Silver Springs about to get a whole lot more interesting?

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Moonstone by Lucy Felthouse

Excerpt:
Moonstone Guinevere Miles—known as Ginny to people who didn’t want to incur her fierce and everlasting wrath—heaved her suitcase off the luggage reclaim belt with an “Oof!” and placed it on the floor, a sigh of relief escaping her. At least the thing had wheels—she didn’t really have the energy for carrying a heavy suitcase all the way through Customs and out to Arrivals. The long, tiring flight had seen to that. No matter how much she tried, no matter how exhausted she was, she simply could not fall asleep on a plane. Ever. Eye mask, ear plugs, meditation, bloody whale music—nothing helped. She’d long since resigned herself to staying awake while snores from other passengers emanated around the cabin. At least it had only been about seven and a half hours since taking off from Heathrow—she couldn’t imagine what state she’d be in if she ever flew any longer than that—to Australia, New Zealand or somewhere.

Doubtful that would ever happen, though. It had taken long enough for her to get her backside out to the east coast of America, where her parents had been running a retreat since retiring five years ago. But then, things were different now, weren’t they? Which was why she was even here in the first place—it wouldn’t have been possible otherwise.

Thinking of her parents brought an inevitable smile to her face, and inserted a little more spring in her step. Despite the energy and mood suck that had been the flight, she was excited to be here. She was eager to see her parents, and to find out exactly what they’d built up over the last five years. She’d seen photos and videos, but it wasn’t the same as actually being there.

When they’d first announced they were using their retirement nest egg to open a retreat in Upstate New York, she’d been floored. Who the hell retires, only to take on a massive project like that? Surely the whole point of retiring is to wind down, enjoy some free time, relax? But no, her mum and dad—who, to be fair, had never been what one would call conventional—had set their hearts on it. They’d had a huge purge of their belongings, sold their cars and house, and jetted off across the pond, leaving Ginny shocked and not a little bereft. She’d been so used to having them close by and had quickly realized just how much she’d taken that for granted.

At the same time, her own career had taken off and she’d become so busy that her parents’ sudden distance hadn’t made the blindest bit of difference. She barely saw the inside of her own flat, never mind her friends and family. This was the first Christmas she’d had off work since then, too, and she was looking forward to spending it with her parents more than she could put into words. They’d been big on the festive period ever since she was a baby, and as such, Ginny’s brain was stuffed full of warm, fuzzy memories of Christmases past. They’d been useful to get her through the last five crappy ones, too, where a microwaved ready meal was the best she could hope for, if she hadn’t managed to wangle a free meal from the place she’d been working at at the time.

Her smile widened, and she walked faster still—God, just how big was this bloody airport?—desperate to see her mum and dad and start the Christmas holiday with a bang. Anticipation rushed through her. They’d have turkey and roast potatoes, pigs in blankets, mounds of vegetables, desserts laden with enough calories to last them until Valentine’s Day, Christmas carols, amazing decorations, a beautiful tree, fairy lights…

And Santa Claus. Two of them, in fact, jumping up and down enthusiastically and waving wildly at her, with not a rotund belly in sight.
Ginny was so excited, she couldn’t even be bothered with the embarrassment she might have felt at being greeted in a public place by her parents dressed up in Santa outfits. Plus, nobody knew her here anyway, so who cared?

She scurried around the barrier, almost flipping her case in her haste to turn a corner, then covered the remaining distance between them in seconds flat and released the handle of her suitcase. A series of squeals and exclamations went up—from all three of them—and then everything went dark as Ginny was enveloped in a warm, fluffy embrace, her face crushed up against what she suspected was the white fur trim on her mother’s jacket, and kisses rained down on her. It was all she could do to suck in oxygen as she was squeezed and squeezed them right back. She was assailed by the scents of clean clothes, shampoo, perfume, and cologne—all perfectly lovely smells by themselves, but somewhat overwhelming all at once. Unintelligible murmurings reached her ears, but she didn’t bother to reply since she had no idea what was being said. And she didn’t need words, anyway. All she needed at that moment in time was to soak up the enormous outpouring of love she was experiencing.

She was so bloody happy, she thought she might pop.

Eventually, her parents loosened their hold enough so she could step back and actually look at them. She took in her father’s handsome face, his steel-gray hair—or what she could see beneath the hat, at least—his wide grin, and her mother’s long, light gray, waist-length plaits, the glint in her eyes and the glow of her skin.

“Guys, you look fantastic! If this is what retirement does for you, I think I might sign up now.”

Her mother, Deborah, gave a nonchalant shrug—which, given her attire, was way more amusing than it should have been. “What can I say, sweetheart? I feel fantastic. I’ve got so much more energy than I ever had in London, even when I was much younger.” She shrugged again. “It’s the retreat, I’m sure of it—the moment your father and I first set foot there all those years ago, I felt there was something magical about it. Silver Springs is the most wonderful little town, and we’re lucky enough to live and work in the most spectacular part of it—though it hardly feels like work.”
Ginny gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, then turned to her father, Charlie. “And you, Dad? You look twenty years younger, but how do you feel?”

His face took on a beatific expression. “The same as your mother, kiddo. Exactly the same. If I’d known just how wonderful it would be, I’d have thrown in the towel and moved out here years ago. Decades, even.” He grabbed the handle of Ginny’s case in one hand, then looped the other around her neck and pulled her in to drop a kiss on her chin-length blonde hair, which he then ruffled. “I’m so thrilled you’re here, Moony. You’re going to love it in Silver Springs. Just love it! Come on, let’s get going. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us, and the weather’s on the turn.”

Ginny bit back comments on both his use of her childhood nickname, and his messing up of her hair. She didn’t want to dampen the almost euphoric mood that seemed to float between the three of them—a combination of being pleased to see each other, and her parents’ obvious appreciation of their new home. Though five years was hardly new anymore, was it? She really should have visited before now, but the circumstances had been impossible. Now they weren’t, and she was here, in the bosom of her family, at Christmas time, and it was going to be magical.

And, at some point, she’d enlighten her parents about the fact she had nothing in particular to rush home for, either. But that could wait. No need to burst the happy, everything-is-perfect bubble just yet. She’d let them all enjoy their first Christmas together in years before thinking about that.
They made their way out of the airport building. The cold air slapped Ginny in the face, momentarily taking her breath. Her slight gasp drew her mother’s keen eye. “I hope you listened to me, sweetheart, and brought warm clothes with you. It’s even colder up in Silver Springs, you know.”

“The car’s not far,” her dad piped up. “I’ll get the heating on as soon as we’re inside, and we’ll soon have you snug as a bug in a rug.” He tipped her a wink, and warmth flooded her veins. She hadn’t realized until now just how much she’d missed her wacky yet lovable parents. They might be unconventional, but they’d given her a wonderful childhood. When she’d reached adulthood, they’d remained incredibly close, with them managing to achieve the perfect balance of loving and supportive without being controlling. They’d let her forge her own path, make her own mistakes, and had been there to help pick up the pieces without uttering so much as a “I told you so.”

They’d definitely earned this idyllic new life they’d carved out for themselves, and she couldn’t wait to experience it for herself, if only for a little while. Though she wasn’t sure how much fun there was to be had in the back end of beyond. It was hardly going to be lively. Perhaps it was a good thing she was only here for an extended holiday.

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Moonstone by Lucy Felthouse

Author Bio:
Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller), The Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight and The Heiress’s Harem series. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 170 publications to her name. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Join her Facebook group for exclusive cover reveals, sneak peeks and more! Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. Subscribe to her newsletter here.

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Dancing in the Dark #MFRWHooks

One Woman Only by Dee S. Knight

One Woman Only is a story of second-chance romance and a love that lasted despite a broken heart at the tenderest of age. This is a blog hop. After reading my post, please click the link at the end to see other posts!

Blurb:

As one of a set of triplets, Jonah Goodman has always stood out as the least academic—and the last one to take the world, or commitment, seriously. Thing is, that’s not really who he is. But who can he convince of that? Not his family, who see him as they always have. And maybe not his one love, the sweetheart he left behind in high school but with whom he is now sharing an erotic holiday. Will he get his second chance to prove to Kelly that he is a loving man who wants more than a sensual few days, but a real relationship with the woman he lost once and doesn’t want to lose again? With that chance and Kelly’s love, Jonah knows that a “good man” can become a better man.

Excerpt:
“May I have this dance?”

Kelly turned at the sound of Jonah’s voice behind her. Dinner had ended. All three of the boys had given best man speeches and Eve had even given a very creditable matron of honor speech, considering she had only known Marilyn and Caleb a short time. Lots of toasts had been raised and finally the live band had struck up the music. Caleb led his bride onto the floor for a foxtrot—a dance more than half of the guests had no idea how to do, including her.

Facing Jonah she sighed inwardly at how scrumptious he looked. Sure, his face was pretty much displayed on his brothers’ heads, too, but there was something different about Jonah. His nose was just a little crooked from when Bobby Hendricks had broken it in ninth grade and his eyes held an especially bright sparkle in his eyes when he smiled. Maybe… Well, she didn’t know what caused the difference between Jonah and his brothers. Whatever it was, she had never been fooled by the so-called identical nature of the identical triplets. She’d wanted to be his girl since elementary school. Thought she would be in high school. And then forced every last thought of him from her mind from senior year on.

Until now.

“I don’t know how to foxtrot.”

He shrugged. “Who does except those over fifty?” He glanced at his folks, still alone on the dancefloor, although a few couples were wandering out to join them now. “We can pretend.”

She mentally compared standing on the sidelines alone now that Mama Rio left the party, or being held in Jonah’s arms. Smiling, Kelly held out her hands. “Just don’t step on my toes, Jonah Goodman, or there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Together they walked onto the dancefloor. He took her right hand in his left and placed his right hand on her waist. Fortunately for them, the music changed to a slow tempo. Kelly laid her head on Jonah’s shoulder, and he tugged her closer as they swayed to the music.

“This is nice,” he murmured.

“Yes it is,” she replied. So very nice. He smelled good. Beneath the light citrus fragrance of his aftershave was a slight whiff of pure man with maybe a twinge of motor oil or something so Jonah it brought tears to her eyes.

He rubbed a path up to her shoulder blades and gave a squeeze. “You fit me perfectly, Kelly.”

“I do?”

“You sure do. I think our hearts can feel each other beat.”

Kelly chuckled. “Smooth talker. Face to face like this our hearts are on opposite sides.”

“Hey! I’m trying to be romantic here.”

She sighed. “Keep on. It’s appreciated.”

“You smell…good.”

She felt his smile. Raising her head she gave him a mock glare. “Watch it with those pregnant pauses, buster.”

He used his hand to press her head back to his shoulder. “You do smell good, though. This isn’t the same perfume you wore in high school. That was—”

“Lilac,” they said at the same time. Once more she raised her head to look at him. “How did you remember that?”

“I remember much more than you might think.” He turned her and moved her closer to the door onto the patio. “Each spring when lilacs are in bloom memories come flooding back. Does that surprise you?”

“More like shocks me,” she said, grinning. And then she laid her head on his shoulder once more, finding she liked it more and more there in his arms. She stepped slightly closer and his arm tightened about her.

“Well, after a while I thought lilac seemed too girlish. I like the vintage scents, so in college I wore Wind Song. Then Shalimar was the scent Brad liked me to wear.” She felt Jonah stiffen when she mentioned her ex, and really she didn’t blame him. “But when I grew up enough finally to take charge of my own life, I started wearing Chanel No 5. A complex fragrance for what I hope is a complex woman.”

“It suits you. Complex and beautiful.” He kissed her temple. “Want to step outside for a minute?”

“Sure. It is a little warm in here.”

On the patio, they could hear the sounds of the people from the television networks packing up equipment, chatting and laughing. Stars shone brightly in the clear night sky. Wood smoke from someone’s fireplace wafted through the air and static electricity fairly crackled in the crispness of the autumn air.

“This is my favorite time of year,” Kelly said. “The heat of summer is gone and winter nights curled up with a hot drink and blazing fire are ahead.”

“Not me. I’m a summer boy all the way.”

“A hothead you mean?” she teased.

“Oh, I’m hot all right.” He waggled his brows at her. Kelly laughed.

“I do seem to remember that about you.”

“You used to be pretty hot yourself. Still are.” He leaned in. His eyes flicked down to her lips. Kelly sucked in a breath. She should stop him, she really should.

Buy link: Kindle Unlimited: mybook.to/OneWomanOnly

MFRW Book Hooks

Author bio:

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. Writing was so much fun Dee decided to keep at it. That’s how she spends her days. Her nights? Well, she’s lucky that her dream man, childhood sweetheart, and long-time hubby are all the same guy, and nights are their secret. For romance ranging from sweet to historical, contemporary to paranormal and more join Dee on Nomad Authors. Contact Dee at dsknight@deesknight.com.

Author links:

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

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

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New Release! The Cat’s Out of the Bag: Cynthia Terelst

The Cat's Out of the Bag by Cynthia Tereist

One van. Two hearts. Thousands of kilometres.

Jesse’s a self-made billionaire who yearns to get away from his empty life and the money-hungry parasites who inhabit it. The plan? Go to Australia, tell no one about his money and find himself. Instead of finding just himself, he finds Evie, who is everything anyone should aspire to be. Now, what he aspires to be, is hers. But to be hers, he needs to tell her everything.

Evie has left her past behind. She has rebuilt herself, and her life, into one of happiness. After she meets Jesse, while volunteering at a cat shelter, memories of her past filter back in. She is stronger now and wants to trust him. But after all she has been through, is trust even possible?

The quest to find a cat a forever home leads them to travel across the country together. Can the close quarters drive them to open up to each other? Or will it drive them apart?

Excerpt:

Jesse
I woke up with Evie still wrapped in my arms. Her smell, her touch, the sound of her soft breathing, the peacefulness on her face. It invaded my senses.

I’d never felt so in touch with someone in my whole life. Every day we opened ourselves up a little more, sharing another part of our souls. I couldn’t live my life without her now.

Evie stirred in my arms and settled again. I kissed the top of her head and tightened my arm around her. Opening her eyes, she looked up at me and smiled before closing her eyes again. Not wanting to disturb her peace, I relaxed into the pillows and closed my eyes.

Her hand found my face and trailed down my neck to my chest. She moved her body up so her lips could meet my jawline. Her breasts pushed up against my body. They were perfectly rounded. I wanted to caress them and feel their softness in my palm. I became hard. It took all my self-control to keep my hands still. Her lips found mine, and she kissed me tenderly. As her lips drew away from mine, I opened my eyes to see her smiling at me.

I wanted her. I should have dragged her lips back to mine. I should have held her close, taken charge, kissed her, loved her. Instead, I watched her as she moved away.

The Cat's Out of the Bag by Cynthia TereistBuy link: https://www.amazon.com/Cats-out-Bag-billionaire-international-ebook/dp/B07ZC2Y2PG

Let’s meet Cynthia:

NA: How did you come up with the idea for your book?
CT: I saw that billionaire romances were very popular and decided to write one. But I didn’t want it to be like the others I read. It is not primarily about money; I added a couple of twists in there. I like to include social issues in my stories and this one touched on domestic violence.

I decided the characters would go on a road trip because road trips are fun and it also throws the characters in close proximity to each other which adds some conflict.

NA: What sort of research did you do to write this book?
CT: There wasn’t much research required as my daughter and I travelled around Australia for three years and visited many of the places in the book. For places I wasn’t familiar with I did some Googling, looked at photos and went from there.

I decided to write contemporary romance because I knew a lot of research would be required for a historical romance and I was worried about getting facts, mannerisms, speech, etc. wrong.

NA: What is the main thing you want readers to take away from your book?
CT: I think this statement from the book sums it up:
I know it’s hard to trust again when you’ve been hurt so badly. But you need to try. Otherwise, you will miss out on many of life’s joys.

NA: A fun fact about writing your book.
CT: I am a foster carer for a cat rescue, which helped me relate to the cats in care and their personalities.

NA: Do you have a day job? What was your job before you started writing full time?
CT: I am a project officer by day and a writer by night. I much prefer to write. As a new writer I need to build up my back list and earn a sustainable income, before I can make writing my full-time job.

NA: What started you on the path to writing?
CT: I have always loved writing. I wrote my first novel at the age of sixteen. I’d put writing aside for over 20 years. When a friend I work with told me she was working on a novel, it inspired me to start writing again. I found my manuscript and rewrote it. It is not a published work, yet.

NA: What do your friends and family think about your being a writer?
CT: I think they are proud and excited.

NA: The biggest surprise you had after becoming a writer
CT: I have been surprised with how helpful other authors are. They are always willing to share their experience and offer their advice. I find them inspiring.

NA: Do you outline books ahead of time or are you more of a by-the-seat-of-your-pants writer?
CT: I know where my books start, where they finish and some of what I want to happen in between. After that I just write. With my second novel I have tried using the index card method to plot, but found that I stray away from what I planned. I do refer back to the cards though when I get stuck.

NA: What has been one of your most rewarding experiences as an author?
CT: I told my author friend in July that I would write and publish a book by the end of the year and that is exactly what I have done. I am proud of my effort.

NA: Do you have quirky writing habits?
CT: I write my first draft by hand. I feel that my ideas flow easier that way.

NA: Which kind of scenes are the hardest for you to write? Action, dialogue, sex?
CT: My sex scenes were pretty terrible to start with. I think they have improved. One beta reader said my dialogue was like it was in a vacuum, I have worked hard to fix this. Sometimes I would tell and not show. I appreciated when my beta readers would point this out.

NA: What do you like to do when you’re not writing?
CT: Relax and do nothing 😊

NA: What are your top three favorite books of all time?
CT: Oh, that is a hard question. When I was younger, I loved The Outsiders. I recently read the Darkest Minds series, which I enjoyed. I can’t decide on a third.

NA: Why did you choose the shirt you have on?
CT: I’m wearing a dress because it is comfortable.

NA: First thought when the alarm goes off in the in the morning?
CT: No. Arggh. And then I hit snooze.

NA: What errand/chore do you despise the most?
CT: Cleaning. I actually pay someone to clean now.

NA: What are you working on now?
CT: My second novel, Let Sleeping Dogs Lie. It is a second chance romance.

NA: What is any question we didn’t ask that you would like to answer?
CT: I can’t think of any. Maybe my favourite food? I would say everything, which would then explain why I am wearing a dress, weight gain due to eating. Lol.

Cynthia:
Cynthia TereistCynthia Terelst is a project officer by day and a writer by night. She is a contemporary romance writer who likes to share a little bit of history, some Australian scenery and a whole lotta love. Cynthia does not shy away from difficult topics, as she feels that they should not be ignored.
She lives in Queensland, Australia, where the sun shines at least 283 days a year.

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New Release! Santa, Baby! A naughty holiday fantasy by Lisabet Sarai

Santa Baby by Lisabet Sarai

This Christmas, Santa discovers it’s nice to be naughty.

Blurb:

Recent university grad Matt Glaser may not have the Santa Claus beard or belly, but when it comes to earning extra holiday cash, it’s a case of ‘ho ho ho, let’s start the show’—he loves his red suit like a reindeer loves carrots. This potential client, though—classy, curvy Eleanor Danforth—seems more interested in checking out his butt than his references. And two grand for a private party? Oy vey, Prancer, something’s not kosher about this particular Vixen. She’s not one to be denied, though. When the interview takes a carnal turn, he finds he’s unexpectedly eager to satisfy the demanding older woman.

Wearing the provocative costume supplied by his employer, Matt arrives at the Danforths’ swanky apartment to discover he’s been cast as the emcee for Eleanor’s intimate gathering. His duties include managing a pair of scantily-clad blond elves, distributing decadent treats to guests who’ve been good, and meting out punishments to the naughty. Meanwhile, the mistress of the house has a Christmas gift especially for him—one made of silicon and leather straps, which requires plenty of lube. Ho ho ho, Matt! It’s going to be a very merry Christmas indeed.

Buy Links:

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Amazon US
Amazon UK
Smashwords
Goodreads

Femdom Holiday Erotica
12,000 words, 51 pages
Smashwords and Amazon KDP
ISBN (Smashwords): 9780463715581
ASIN: B082ZTHVKJ

Excerpt:

For an excerpt online

Muffled in the overcoat I’d borrowed from my roommate Brian, I faced the hardwood and brass double doors to the Danforth’s fortieth floor apartment. The doorbell was easy to locate; I just wasn’t sure I had the guts to ring it.

The Santa costume that my employer had provided was more appropriate for a go-go boy than Father Christmas. The droopy conical hat was traditional, with its fuzzy white trim and pom-pom, and the knee-high black patent leather boots, too, but St. Nicolas wouldn’t have been caught dead in these shiny red spandex hot pants. They clung to my bum like a second skin. It was a good thing the weather was warm for December, or I would have frozen my balls off. The scarlet shirt, fashioned of some sort of stretchy velvet, had long sleeves with white fur cuffs. However, the front made a plunging vee that bared most of my chest.

I was grateful for the soft, snowy-white fake beard. It hid my blushes. I felt ridiculous and incredibly exposed. Like most authors, I tended to live in my head, my vivid imagination compensating for my mundane real-world existence. In contrast, this costume emphasized the physical. My face was hidden; my mind wasn’t important. I had no illusions about the fact that Mrs. Danforth had hired me primarily for my body.

I could still back out. Turn around, step back into the chrome and steel elevator and whoosh down to the ground floor. Spend Christmas Eve eating take-out and working on my novel.

Seriously, though, could I afford to throw away two thousand bucks? Meanwhile, the experience, however weird, might in the future serve as grist to the writer’s mill.

Before I could talk myself out it, I gave the button a firm press.

Almost immediately, Mrs. Danforth opened the door. “Good evening, Matt. You’re right on time. I do appreciate punctuality.”

My eyes grew wide and my cock started to harden as I took her in. She’d been attractive in her form-fitting suit and silky blouse, but now she was stunning. Her sleeveless, evergreen-colored cocktail dress was fashioned from some light, shimmery fabric that clung to her voluptuous breasts and hips. The short skirt showed off her smooth thighs and muscled calves, their shapeliness enhanced by her sparkling red stilettos. Her pale hair gleamed in the recessed lights of the entry way. Artfully-applied make up accentuated her patrician features. Her plump, crimson lips were moist and inviting.

“Toss your coat onto the chair,” she ordered. “Let’s see the costume.”

Like an automaton, I shrugged off the heavy wool garment.

She clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, you look spectacular! Sexy and naughty, just the way I imagined.”

About Lisabet:

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, along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance, 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.

Skills of the Warramunga: Greg Kater

We’re turning a bit away from romance this month and hosting some authors new to us, who write other fiction and some non-fiction. We think our guest bloggers are phenomenal, and believe you will, too. Comment, and let us know what you think!

Skills of the Warramunga by Greg Kater

Skills of the Warramunga

NA: How did you come up with the idea for your book?
GK: Skills of the Warramunga is my third historical fiction novel in a series of books covering the 1940’s period, specifically World War II and the aftermath of war. This novel takes place during the first half of 1946 on the Malayan peninsula at a time of turmoil following the defeat of the Japanese. During my career in the resources industry, I spent quite a lot of time in Malaysia, as well as the other South East Asian countries, and the region is well known to me. As with my other novels, except for the really bad fellows, the fictional characters in the book are mostly based on the variety of people I worked with over the years, during my long career.

NA: What sort of research did you do to write this book?
GK:From personal experience, I am very familiar with most parts of the Malayan peninsular depicted in the novel. Research was focussed on the actual historical events leading up to the April 1946 creation of the Malayan Union by the British Military Authority. These historical events are a backdrop to all the action and drama which takes place throughout the book.

NA: What is a fun fact about writing your book?
GK: The greatest fun, to me, was remembering the weird and wonderful people I worked with around the world over a long career of 56 years and casting them as fictional characters in my books. Although they all have fictional names, some of them have been able to recognize themselves.

NA: Do you have a day job? What was your job before you started writing full time?
GK: I have retired recently after a 56-year career in the resources industries, a career which took me to all parts of the world

NA: What started you on the path to writing?
GK: My retirement started me on the path to writing. Rambling around in my head were memories of the exotic places where I had worked as well as the people I had met and worked with. I decided it would be fun to include all those memories into works of fiction. For the first time in many years, I actually had plenty of time on my hands.

NA: What do your friends and family think about you being a writer?
GK: I think, in general, they were all quite surprised. My wife is very happy about it as she was worried that, after a very active career, on my retirement I might become a terrible nuisance with nothing to do. Writing certainly keeps me out of mischief.

All my friends tell me that they have really enjoyed my books. I hope they are not just being kind. I have won some awards, so perhaps my novels are not too bad.

NA: Do you outline books ahead of time or are you more of a by-the-seat-of-your-pants writer?
GK: Both, to a certain extent. I usually start off with a lot of research so that the succession of historical facts is correct. Then with the historical events running along in the background, my fictional characters become involved in the action. The fictional actions are not planned too far in advance but evolve as I progress further into the story.

NA: What has been one of your most rewarding experiences as an author?
GK: There are, of course, many rewarding experiences including multiple maximum star reviews, accolades from many of my readers, the odd award and the joy of completing a novel and having it published.

I would say, however, the most rewarding experience has been to find out that someone like me, who has only ever written multitudes of technical reports, can actually write historical fiction that is entertaining.

NA: What do you like to do when you are not writing?
GK: I closely follow the various careers of my children and I spend quite some time talking to my grandchildren and following their exploits on the athletic fields and swimming pools as well as their successes at scholastic endeavours and jobs.

For myself, I was never in one place for long enough to become any good at golf and, due to age, I’ve given up tennis. I now play lawn bowls regularly at our local Bowls Club.

I am also a part-owner of the Egelabra Merino Stud, a major family-owned sheep and cattle enterprise in central New South Wales. I spend some time on the telephone discussing the property with brother and cousins, particularly in this time of drought when we have had to move quickly to get all our cattle and some of our sheep on agistment to other parts of Australia where rainfalls have been good.

NA: Why did you choose the shirt you have on now?
GK: I must confess, I didn’t go to any trouble choosing it. It was on top of a pile of newly washed clothing and was the easiest shirt to grab early in the morning.

NA: First thought when the alarm goes off in the morning?
GK: Since I’ve retired, I don’t have an alarm clock anymore. When I wake up, the first thought that usually comes to me is, since I have already won my OBE (Over Bloody Eighty), how lucky I and my wife are to still be so fit.

NA: Strangest place you’ve brushed your teeth?
GK: That would definitely be in Chara, near Udokan, in the Transbaikal region of Siberia. It was February, 1992 and the temperature was -54 degrees C. The only water that wasn’t frozen was ice being boiled in the kettle for tea. I had to clean my teeth with dry almost-frozen toothpaste before going to bed.

NA: What are you working on now?
GK: I am working on a new historical fiction novel which is completely different than my first four books. It takes place in the first half of the 1800’s and is based on the actual voyages by my great-great-grandparents from England to Australia and the trials and tribulations of settling in Australia at that time. There were occasional droughts and depressions which tested the settlers of that era.

I am lucky to have many of the original letters from my great-great-grandmother as well several early histories of my family. The meeting of my two great-great-grandparents was very romantic and after marriage they weathered good times and bad raising sheep, cattle and children in the bush country. Real pioneers! It is historical fiction, as I have added some conversations and events which may or may not have happened exactly the way I have written about them.

The working title of the new novel is, “Scent of a Foreign Land.” It is taking longer than I expected because it is so different for me. I have completed about 60% of it. I don’t expect to have it published before mid-2020.

NA: What is any question we didn’t ask that you would like to answer?
GK: I suppose a question would be – what is my third novel about?
Greg KaterThe events take place during the first half of 1946 when former army officer, Jamie Munro, and educated half-aborigine, Jack “Jacko” O’Brien, who head the Commonwealth Investigation Service in Darwin, are called on to assist in the rescue of Colonel John Cook, a senior operative of MI6, who has been kidnapped by unknown bandits into the jungles of Malaya.

During the recent war, Jamie and Jacko had worked in intelligence operations with Colonel Cook during the desert campaign in North Africa in the Second World War, as the Afrika Corps threatened Egypt.

The pair with Jacko’s half-sister, Sarah, a full blood aborigine, originally from Tennant Creek in the Northern Territory, arrive in Kuala Lumpur in the aftermath of war to find that they not only have to contend with the impenetrable jungle of the Malay peninsula, but also with a large murderous and subversive organisation of Fascist criminals whose aim is to disrupt the 1st of April 1946 creation of the Malayan Union by the British Military Authority, foment an uprising and take over control of the country. All the inherent bushcraft skills of the Warramunga are needed to prevent catastrophic mayhem on the Malayan Peninsula.