Writer Wednesday – A few of my favorite things

A lot of writers get asked what kind of tools they use when writing and editing.  Here are a few of mine:


The Romance Writer’s Phrase book by Jean Kent and Candice Shelton – It’s a handy little phrase book, used for tag lines, body language, etc.

A more updated version would be The Emotional Thesaurus by Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi.   I use these books when I’m in the layer process of my book.   I used to use them during the rough draft, but found I got too bogged down with particulars rather than just writing the damn book.

The Novel Writer’s Toolkit by Bob Mayer – I have an old copy of this, but found it useful for understanding aspects of the business like Sell-thrus and royalties.   I believe he has an updated version.

And of course I have a Thesaurus, Dictionary and Two Style Guides.

Online Tools

Pinterest – I use Pinterest to store a lot of my pictures for characters, setting, clothes, etc.   Of course you can totally get lost on there.

First Draught – I have to give a shout-out to these ladies, because they cover a range of topics and they talk about everything from craft to publishing.  I love their Vlog!

Jenna Moreci – Jenna is a YA Indie Writer and she has this Vlog where her topics are humorous and based on her writing experience.   I highly recommend this if you are exploring Self-publishing or are a YA writer.

Google Keep  – I sort of stumbled across this recently and use it in place of Scrivener.    I make up all these little notes on characters, settings and scenes I need to write and then I can have it on the side of my Google Doc.   I’m sort of envious of Scrivener, but the feature I was really wanting was to replace my post-it plotting system that I learned from Cherry Adair.

Last week I covered the importance of finding your tribe, and of course my tribes are some of my favorite things.





Saturday Sexcerpt – Bedtime Stories for a Stolen Child by Anna Mayle


Something was tickling his thigh. Light, almost not a touch, it was moving over the skin on the inside of his leg just firm enough to brush the soft pale hairs there and cause the laughter inducing sensation.

Daniel squirmed and gasped lightly when the touch brushed deliciously close to his balls. He licked his lips and canted his hips just a bit forward to capture the feeling. It was still soft, soft and smooth, some separate touches but others all in a line and held together. The softest razor edge he’d ever experienced. Like a feather.

A feather! He stilled, unwilling to move the blanket lest he see something he didn’t want to. It was like the nightmares he’d had as a child, of being surrounded by creatures who meant him harm and being unable to move in case they saw him. He used to hide his head under the covers and lay there, panting and terrified until the sunlight scared away the shadows, but this time, he couldn’t hide that way. The monster was under the blanket with him.

That touch moved again and the muscles of his thigh jumped, a full body shiver wracking his broad frame. He was ashamed that it wasn’t completely fear which caused it. Near enough, though. It took all of his will to move a hand, slowly, toward the sensation. Waiting for those sharp fangs to bite down, waiting to come into contact with knotted and feather strewn hair.

I shouldn’t be this terrified. I’m a full grown man! I shouldn’t be afraid of monsters in the dark!

He despised the owlish creature for stealing away his comfort and giving him such a childish fear. At least he wasn’t hiding in the closet. God, no, the closet would mean he wasn’t in my bed! Why couldn’t he . . . no, it. It’s an it! One crisis of identity at a time, thank you! Why couldn’t it be a closet monster? Closet monster. Good God, tell me I’m dreaming. This is a nightmare. Delusion. I’m going insane. I never recovered from the accident and I’m laying in a coma somewhere, living a nightmare world inside of my head!

He felt his own leg and shifted the hand inward, down his hip and up around the outer thigh. Any moment . . .

Then he felt it, and his hand clamped down. Jumping into an upright position, he yanked the offending thing up to meet his eyes.

A feather. A single owl’s feather which had slipped into his briefs, probably from that ridiculous nest he’d been laying in before.

He closed his eyes in the exhaustion that only comes from the sudden absence of fear and gave a hiccupping sound. It might have been a laugh if not for the hollow and desperate edge to it. Crushing the feather in his fist, he fell back to the pillow.

Wait, I wasn’t wearing briefs.

His eyes opened wide, and he screamed when he came face to face with an owl’s gaze and that mouth with its Cheshire grin.

“Stole my face,” it accused, and reached for him.

 Daniel slammed his head into the wall when he jerked into wakefulness. He swore and bit his lip hard enough to make it bleed. His cock was straining in his Y-fronts as if he’d had an amazing wet dream, and he drew his legs up to himself, hiding the offending organ from his own eyes, hiding his depravity. Something was wrong with him. But he should be glad, right? It was only a dream.

The feather, crumpled and broken in his fist, mocked him.

Saturday Sexcerpt – Nightwalker by Rhonda Print

Welcome back naughty boys and girls!

Today we are reading an excerpt from Rhonda Print’s Nightwalker available at Liquid Silver Books.

Ian took my hand and led me to a glass-enclosed atrium. Stars glittered above me through the glass ceiling and the desert outside was backdropped by the mountain range. A jetted spa that trickled a waterfall into a large swimming pool illuminated the room. Palm trees surrounded the edge of the spa, providing privacy. Wow.

“It’s like an oasis in the desert.” I spoke softly so as not to disturb the natural peace in the room. Like talking in a library.

Ian walked over to a large stone bench and sat. He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his pale skin and muscles hidden beneath. I silently gasped and felt a wave of desire heat my body. Each muscle flexed and tensed as he moved to kick off his boots; then pulled his socks over his feet. As he bent and exposed his back, I couldn’t help but admire the breadth of his shoulders, my eyes following his spine down to his narrowing back and waist. His wavy black hair fell over his face and I was left with a view of his neck. I had the sudden urge to run my tongue along his exposed neckline to his kissable mouth. I wanted to slide my hands over the strong shoulders and let them slowly caress a path down his chest and along the expanse of his stomach, tracing the trail of soft, dark hair that led from his navel and disappeared under the denim of his jeans. I wanted to feel his hands fist in my hair as I explored his body.

I shook myself out of the thought.

My face blazed red as I saw Ian’s eyes bore into mine, the look of passion on his face that a man gets when he knows you’re interested in more than just conversation.

You can buy Rhonda’s Book here:


Saturday Sexcerpt – Beauty and the Bastard by David Bridger

Beauty and the BastardThe bedroom and attached bathroom were still slightly steamy from Rebecca’s shower. He smelled fresh hay and grasses and honey. Her fragrances. He breathed in her presence for some moments, before twisting the shower tap and filling the tiled room with billows of new steam.

The tension of his neck and shoulders always surprised him, and he zoned out for a while under the strong hot jet. But his thoughts returned to her, as they’d kept returning to her all day, no matter how many times he turned them away.

Sitting just a few feet away from him, right now, glowing from her shower. Brushing her hair last night, striking sparks and shooting stars through the velvet darkness of his imagination. Holding onto his arm as if she’d never let go when they ran to safety after the attack. Standing naked in her window, smiling, using both hands to twist her hair into some kind of knot at the back of her head, her pert breasts and lovely nipples lifting towards him while the firm swell of her belly and luxurious red hair of her mound enticed him.

His balls ached and his cock hurt so bad he thought it might burst. He lathered himself with soap and rubbed slowly. The pressure built from deep inside as he continued to rub his cock. In a few more seconds, he would come. He’d never gotten so close before, but he knew he’d almost reached the point of no return.

 He stopped.

His cock throbbed and twitched. Blood pounded in his head, and his heart thudded fit to bust out of his chest. Stars danced behind his tightly closed eyelids as the dangerous rhythmical pulsing in his groin subsided.

This was wrong. So wrong. When he fell from heaven, he’d gained the sexual needs and desires of a human. He didn’t want them, but he’d gotten them. He’d known from the start that it would be a terrible temptation, so he’d decided to remain celibate. His ultimate destination was heaven. Return to heaven. Nothing should stop that. He wouldn’t let anyone come between him and heaven. Not after all this time. Not when he might be so close.

He twisted the tap savagely and rested his forehead on the tiles to let cold water blast him.

Wow…if you’d like to read more about Beauty and the Bastard click the link below.


Saturday Sexcerpt – Taste of Honey by PG Forte

When I asked PG if she had a sexy excerpt this was her answer.

A:  Here’s one. It’s an oldie but (hopefully) a goodie. This is from A Taste of Honey (Oberon, book 4) and it’s always been one of my favorite scenes.

Dan opened his eyes again when he felt Lucy crawl up from the bottom of the bed to slide on top of him.  There was a steady fire burning in her eyes now, and a tiny hint of a smile on her lips.  But before he’d had a chance to process any of it, she’d lowered her head and kissed him, full on the mouth; her tongue practically demanding entrance, sinking home as soon as he opened for it.

            He reached for her again, half expecting that she’d push his hands away.  When she didn’t, his hold on her tightened.  Wrapping one arm across her back, spearing his other hand up into her hair, he held her motionless, trapped against him, as he kissed her back with a fierceness so intense that even he was startled by it.  He felt the shuddered intake of her breath, and then she was settling herself more fully on top of him, all her softness pressing against him.   

             “Yes!”  He wasn’t sure if he’d growled the word aloud, or merely thought and felt it, as it reverberated through him.  Oh, man, she felt so damn good.  But she was just plain crazy if she thought he could give her up again after tonight.  He rolled until he had her pinned beneath him.  He’d never have enough of her.  Never.  Never.  Never. 

            And he was never going to let her go, either.  So, she could just forget about that part, ‘cause that was not gonna happen.

            He lifted his head, ready to look her in the eye and tell her how it was going to be, but she opened lambent, slumberous eyes to gaze back up at him, and his breath caught in his throat.  The words he’d been planning to say just died on his lips.  Ah, God, he loved her.  He’d always loved her, and he didn’t suppose he was ever going to stop.  But, who was he kidding?  He wasn’t the one calling the shots here anymore.  If he ever had been.  And if she really wanted to go, or wanted him gone, what could he do about it?

            Nothing, that’s what. 

            But nobody was going anywhere tonight.

            He bent his head to kiss her again.  A soft sip of a kiss, this time.  Their lips barely touching, barely tasting, before he’d pulled away to look at her again, to enjoy the heat that flared in her eyes, and in her cheeks.  He altered the angle of his head a little and bent to kiss her again, just as softly.  And then he did it again, and again, and–

            He felt her shift beneath him with restless urgency.  Her breath came out on an impatient whimper.  And when her lips tried to hold to his longer, to draw the kisses out, to make them last, he made them swifter, shallower, even shorter than before.

            Now it was his turn–when she reached up, hands trembling, to hold him still–to pull those hands away and pin them to the bed, to lower his mouth to within several centimeters of hers and…pause there.  Moving–just slightly–from side to side, but never any closer, touching her lips only with his breath.  And then, almost as lightly, with his tongue.

He raised his head again.  Her eyes were dark, smoldering coals.  Now, he thought suddenly, ask her now!  If he asked her for anything right now, she’d give it to him.  She’d promise him forever as the price for just one kiss.  But what good were the words she spoke tonight, if tomorrow they’d be recanted?  They’d be even more worthless than his own foolish promise had been.  Never to ask her for anything more?  How could he ever hope to keep to that?

            “Dan?”  Her voice was barely a breath of a sound.  Her tongue ran nervously over her lips, and he could read desire and worry and confusion in her eyes.  And if he thought he saw anything else there, well, what of it?  There had to be something left of all the love they’d shared, didn’t there?  A faint trace, one tiny spark.  Whatever it was, it was his.  He smiled as he gazed into her eyes.  His.  He’d put it there, and it belonged to him.  And if he chose to use that spark tonight, to warm away all the cold places in his soul, well, he had that right.  

            He felt her breath catch, felt the tremor that went through her, and then her lips curved up in an answering smile.  And if he chose to believe that the worry and confusion he had seen in her eyes a moment earlier had disappeared, swallowed up by the heat; if he chose to believe that his spark had caught fire, and that the look on her face now, was one he’d seen there countless times before, well he had that right, too.

            Even knowing it was probably illusion, a mirage, an echo from a lifetime ago, he would take it.  Even knowing that it was a dream that might melt away come morning, and that tomorrow she would most likely look at him, instead, the way she had earlier today, and all last week–  But no, he wouldn’t think about that, right now.  He wouldn’t think about tomorrow, or forever, or any time beyond tonight. 

            And tonight…tonight he wouldn’t think of anything at all, except the woman in his bed.  He let go of her hands then, and he bent his head, and he kissed her, hard.  And when he felt her hands reach up to hold him, and when she kissed him back, he gladly went up in flames for her.

Remember you find PG here:

website:                    www.pgforte.com

blog:                         www.rhymeswithforeplay.blogspot.com

yahoo group:            http://groups.yahoo.com/group/pgforte/

newsletter:                www.openzine.com/oberon

myspace:                   www.myspace.com/pgforte

facebook:                 www.facebook.com/pgforte

twitter:                      www.twitter.com/pgforte

Thanks for joining me today.  See you with a new author next week.


Saturday Sexcerpt – Prime Obsession by Monette Michaels


 Welcome back Monette who shares a sexy excerpt from Prime Obession:

            The Prime had witnessed her passage and rearmed the trap.  Even if she’d missed slitting the Erian’s throat properly, the trap would efficiently finish the lizard off.  Her back trail was covered.

            “Thanks,” she said loudly, not sure where or how sensitive the microphones were in the tunnel.

            “You’re welcome, Melina.”

            She recognized that voice.  It wasn’t the male that had issued the distress call, but she had met the man on Tooh 2.

            “Iolyn?  Huw?”  She smiled at the live camera to her right.

            “It’s Iolyn, Melina.  Welcome on board the Galanti.”

             “Glad I could make it.  What’s it look like ahead?’

            “Trouble,” growled a low, unknown male voice.

            Well, not exactly unknown.  That was the voice on the distress call.  And as it had on the jump station, the voice sent fingers of heat throughout her body.  She forced back a low moan as she rubbed at her hip.  Heat like she’d never experienced radiated from the marking that she’d had for as far back as she could remember.  Her birthmark as her mother had always called it.

            “Who’s that?” She frowned, shaking off the unusual sensations caused by the unknown speaker.  “What kind of trouble?  Trap or pirate?” Or, you?

            “Me,” rumbled the same male.

            Mel gulped.  That was what she’d been afraid of.  Damn, her extra senses were really working spot on this trip.

            “Melina,” Iolyn said, his voice practically drenched with suppressed amusement.  “Meet my brother, Wulf.  He is the captain of this ship.”

            “Iolyn, he doesn’t sound very grateful that I’m here to help rid his ship of pirates.”

            “You should have sent one of your men,” snarled Wulf.  “This is no place for a woman.”

            Mel sighed and bit back the harsh retort. Okay, sexy-to-die-for voice in the body of a male chauvinist.  Well, no one ever promised allying with the Prime military would be easy.  Alliance female soldiers would just have to prove themselves. Beginning with her.

            “Sorry, Captain.”  Not.  “But I’m the only one who speaks or reads Prime.”

            She started forward once more, found the Prime words for the engine room and followed the correct tunnel.  “Besides, I couldn’t risk my men.  By the way, I do hope you’ve turned off the self-destruct.  There are now two squadrons of Alliance battle-cruisers lying immediately outside the danger zone waiting for the all clear.”

            “Can you give it now?”  Wulf’s voice was calmer, not as snarly and filled with anger as before.

            She wasn’t sure why she could read this man’s moods so easily, but she could.  And why in the hell did it make her feel calm that he was calm?   She’d never made it a practice to worry about any man’s moods.

            “There’s something blocking external communications,” she explained as she cautiously approached an access panel to a hallway labeled the weapons deck. “We tried to hail you before we boarded the ship.”

            Wulf’s curses came across the speakers clearly.  The growl was back in his voice. 

            Mel laughed.  “Those are some new words for me. I learned your language from ancient texts. My contemporary colloquial knowledge of your language is lacking, I’m afraid.  I caught bhau, balls or testicles, but what is ansu?”

            “You don’t need to know,” growled Wulf. “It is not – – ”

            Iolyn laughed and cut his brother’s next, undoubtedly sexist, remark off.  “In your language, the closest translation is ‘devil.’”

            “Ansu bhau.  Devil’s balls.”  She grinned.  “Can’t wait to use it on an Antarean.”

            “You will never get near an Antarean, if I have anything to say about it,” bellowed Wulf.

            Staying alert to her surroundings, she wondered why Wulf sounded so possessive, because that was how she read his voice.  And since when could she read voices?  Her psi abilities usually only worked when she was in close proximity with the person she read. Maybe his emotions were stronger and traveled farther. She mentally shrugged.

            “Well, it’s a good thing that I answer only to the Alliance Military, then, isn’t it?” She stopped and opened her senses wide, seeking another presence in the tunnel ahead.  “Besides, I killed two Antareans just over sixty hours ago – – and wounded and left to die two Erians in this tunnel.  They’re dead.  I’m not.  ‘Nuff said.”

 Copyright, Monette Michaels, 2009.

Thanks, Tina for letting me come and play at your blog. 

Monette Michaels/Rae Morgan 

Any time Monette!  It was wonderful having you come and visit.

AuThursday – Monette Michaels/Rae Morgan

Welcome all!  Joining us today is fellow LSB asuthor Monette Michaels also known as Rae Morgan.  So Moni, do you mind if I call you Moni?  What books have most influenced your life most?

The reason I am writing at all is Mary Stewart.  I love her books – all of them.  Moonspinners and Touch Not the Cat have to be two of my fav reads of all time.  I love her so much I even wrote the essay on her for an anthology called Mystery Muses: 100 Classics That Inspire Today’s Mystery Writers.  While Mary Stewart wrote what we romance writers would call romantic suspense, she won two Edgar Awards for best mystery.  Yes, her books had very few sex scenes and are mild in that regard considering today’s romance market – Touch Not the Cat has the most obvious one and even it was mostly off-stage – but the growing romance between her heroes and her heroines was fabulous and set against some of the most exotic backdrops in the world and set off against edge of your seat danger.  She is why all my books have a background of danger.  I like the external conflict juxtaposed against the internal conflict, the growing attraction and romance of the hero and heroine. 

 Q:  Who is your favorite author and what is it that really strikes you about their work?

Besides Mary Stewart whose books I re-read every year, I have many favorite authors.  LOL  Too many to list here, that is for sure.  Linda Howard of the Mackenzie era has to be mentioned.  I think my copy of Mackenzie’s Mountain has to be falling apart.  I also loved Mr. Perfect and Cry No More.  Her last two, I have reservations about, but her back list is on my Keeper Shelf and I re-read her books on it frequently.  For the sexier, more sensual authors, I just love and adore Nalini Singh’s books, both paranormal series.  She has a talent for exposition; her alpha heroes are just yummy and her heroines are strong enough to stand toe-to-toe but know when they need to lean on their men.  Her world-building is so subtle that a reader is not jarred out of the story with a lot of technical jargon or rules that are hard to understand.  Linnea Sinclair is also another author I love since I am a scifi geek and her science fiction romances are to die for.

Q:  Are there any new authors that have grasped your interest?

Define new.  LOL  New for me?  Cynthia Eden.  She is not “new” to romance writing, but I just discovered her books and am now buying her whole back list.  Love her take on the paranormal.  I have also discovered Sarah McCarty and Kylie Brant (her new mass market romsuspense books, not her Harlequin days). 

Q: To date which of your books was the hardest to write and why?

Earth Awakened under my Rae Morgan pen name.  I started this book in early 2007; that Spring my very elderly mother began to fall down a lot and I had to make long round trips every day to check on her and my stepfather.  I spent at least two hours a day driving and then dealing with whatever medical issues and paperwork and errands.  I was always exhausted by the time I got home where I had to deal with my husband’s angst about retiring early for his health.  We also had downsized by that time – so I was still reeling from selling, buying and moving.  My son was making the decision to come home from Oregon to finish his degree at Kelley School of Business at IU in Indianapolis.  So, a little life stress? – – parenting parents, moving aftermath, retirement of spouse, child changing major and moving home, last illness of my mother and her subsequent death and dealing with all the legal stuff (I’m the lawyer in the family).  Uh, yeah.  I’m lucky the men didn’t come to cart me away to the psych ward.  So writing did not go well when I could even get to it.  My brain was wholly engaged in strategies to take care of my family.

I did finish the book and it came out at the end of December, 2009 – over two years after I started it.  The book evolved over that time and I think it is a stronger book for the wait, but I feel as if I had let my fans down.  Good news is – my life has gotten back to normal, or as normal as having a husband home 24/7 can be – and I am back to turning out 2-3 books a year under my Monette Michaels pen name.  Rae is still hunting for a new project.  J

Q:  Do you have to travel much concerning your book(s)?

I travel twice a year at a minimum to conferences.  I like to attend Lori Foster’s conference in Cincinnati each June and Archon in the St. Louis area in October.  I also attend some Bouchercons and I was registration chair for the one held in Indianapolis in October 2009.  All are fan conferences.  I love fan conferences. 

If RT is in a place I can drive to, I like to attend it.  I am absolutely terrified to fly; didn’t use to be that way, but am now.  I like to be in control and since I can’t fly the plane and make sure that all the people on board are not crazy, noisy or rude, I avoid flying.  I only fly for my day job when there is no other way (I am an arbitrator). 

Q: We all know “SEX” sells, have you ever been asked to “sex-up-your books”?

Not really.  All my books have lots of sensual buildup and heat.  My older books (published at LTDBooks which closed its doors in 2005) had sex, but not as much as I am writing now.  I have offered to revisit older books when they come up for re-publishing and “up the heat levels and open the doors to the bedroom more widely,” but no one has ever asked me to.  The older books sold well “as is” and sometimes it is better not to rock the boat.  At Liquid Silver Books, I have books in the Sterling (slower buildup and less sex scenes) and the Liquid (characters move more quickly into bed and there are more sex scenes) levels. I have not written a Molten book yet and would probably have to stretch to do so – and then I am afraid it would be too molten.  I have a very vivid and kinky imagination, but am not sure I want to share that much of my personal fantasy life with the world.  LOL 

Q:  What do you think is the biggest misconception in e-publishing

That people won’t read on computers or hand-held devices.  I think that the advent of iTouch, iPhones, the Blackberry, the Droid, and all the current incarnations of eBook reading devices has proven that wrong.  My son (23-years-old) reads fan fiction all the time on his laptop. His goal is a phone with a 3G  network (I think he’ll hold out for the 4G to be more prevalent), and I am sure he will use it and the appropriate apps to read on it.  I have had a Rocket from the day they came out – my Rocket is ten years old now, still works, and I love it.  I am holding out for a reading device with color screen and wireless capability for downloads that reads the main formats. 

Another major misconception?  That all e-books are badly written and edited.  From my days in math and philosophy, I was trained to be skeptical of statements using the words “all” or “every.”  Not all e-books are badly written, some are.  And the market will handle those.  There are badly written and atrociously edited print books from major print publishers, but no one skewers the whole industry based on a few bad books.  The same should apply in the e-publishing world. 

I am lucky that I have had two excellent e-publishers:  LTD Books in Canada (now closed for reasons having to do with the owner going back to get a Master’s Degree) and Atlantic Bridge Publishing in Indianapolis, the parent company for Liquid Silver Books.  Both my e-publishers strove, and in the case of AB/LSB still strive, for quality in content and editing.  AB/LSB has been around for ten years (LSB as an imprint has been around since 1/2003). I think the company’s longevity speaks for itself. 

Q:  What are your current projects?

Monette Michaels has a lot on her plate.  Rae is relaxing and letting Monette do her thing.  LOL

 The first book in a romantic suspense series called Security Specialists International (SSI), Eye of the Storm, was just contracted with Liquid Silver.  It should come out in the second quarter of 2010.  I am currently finishing the second book in the Gooden and Knight paranormal mystery series (the first, The Virtuous Vampire, was a reprint of an LTDBook that came out in 2005).  The second Abby and Luc book is called The Deadly Séance and I hope to have it to my publisher by the end of March and see it published before the end of 2010.  After the Abby and Luc book, I will write the second book in the Prime Chronicles series, Prime Selection, Huw and Nadia’s story.   And finally, I have the second in the SSI series, Weather the Storm, already in the planning stages (to be completely honest, the pushy characters forced me to write the first 50 pages of this book when I should have been working on Abby and Luc’s book). 

Q:  Where can readers find you on the World Wide Web?






And of course at Liquid Silver Books, SiN Forum:  http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com/forums/

Saturday Sexcerpt – Préjà Vu by Alanna Coca

Sit back and enjoy this Steamy Sexcerpt from Alanna Coca.

He stepped closer, and lowered his head to hers, pinning her to the wall with those serious green eyes. “Don’t you trust yourself to be alone with me for two minutes?”

He was so damn sure of himself. The fact that he had read her correctly didn’t help her calm down. In fact it infuriated her. She glared at him, her teeth clenched so hard her jaw began to hurt, and long bursts of air came through her nose. When she remained silent, he shook his head.

“I swear, sometimes you act more like a spoiled little girl than a professional woman.”

She heard the sharp crack before she realized that she’d slapped him.

The angry sound reverberated against the empty walls, echoing in her ears. His head snapped around with the unexpected force of her hand. Very slowly, he swiveled his head back to face her. His eyes fairly burned holes into hers, those damn gorgeous eyes. She couldn’t believe she had actually struck him. She’d never raised a hand to anyone, not even in self-defense. Her hand stung with the contact, so she curled her fingers into a fist. Fear engulfed her, but she refused to apologize.

“Never,” he enunciated, “strike me again.”

She ignored the warning bells that went off in her head, and narrowed her eyes, imitating him, “Fuck … you.”

With a feral growl, one that caused an immediate spike in her heart rate, he gripped both of her elbows, so tightly that her hands almost immediately began to tingle. He secured her against the wall, and she started struggling in earnest. She wasn’t afraid of him, but of her own reaction to this man. Whenever she was in his vicinity, she didn’t trust herself. “Let go of me, you bastard.”

“You’re trying to piss me off so I’ll let you leave,” he spoke through his teeth. “It won’t work.”

She kicked his shins, she curled her hands into claws that if freed, would scratch his eyes out. She brought her knee up to emasculate him, but he dodged it just in time, kicking her feet out from under her, and toppling them both to the ground. She hissed in indignation. She bucked her body against him, and he used his weight to pin her to the floor. She brought his hands toward her mouth to try to bite them, but he was too strong for her and he used even more force. Just when she thought she might be able to bite his shoulder, he brought both of her hands over her head, gathering handfuls of her hair as he went, thereby keeping her head pinned as well. She fought with all her might, but when she realized what an immovable force he made, she whimpered, then collapsed.

His legs had hers pinned. Her chest expanded with each breath she sucked in, and the air that escaped her lungs was searing. She glared up at him, his face barely an inch away and not even in focus. She should scream. Why didn’t she? Didn’t she want someone to beat down the door and rescue her? Wouldn’t the mere threat of discovery be enough to make him release her? “Stop this, Ryann.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, and allowed herself to enjoy the vibrating heat of his muscles for only a moment. “Let me go,” she hissed.

“Not until you calm down and listen to me.”

“Get off of me.”

He speared her with his gaze. The fire behind it sizzled almost audibly. He glanced down at the pulse which was pounding against her collarbone. “I don’t think you want me to get off of you. I think you like it.” His lip curled.

“You’re a conceited bastard.”

“I can see it in your eyes, Ryann,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “You like my weight on you. It gives you a little thrill to know how hard I am right now for you.”

“Don’t talk like that to me. You don’t know anything about me.” Damned if he wasn’t right. She didn’t want to feel that rigid flesh against her crotch, but it was there. She tried to turn her face away from him, to hide the obviously clear desire in her eyes, but he held her hair tight, immobilizing any movement at all.

“I know that you want me. I know that you started this little fight just so I’d put my hands on you. I know that you’ve got me right where you want me.”

She faced him again, narrowing her eyes. “I don’t want you anywhere, least of all on top of me.” Had she ever told such a bold-faced lie? She ignored the heat rising to her cheeks, and lifted her chin in defiance.

“You’re a liar, and I can prove it.”

“Ha! I’m not lying, and there’s no way for you to prove it anyway. Let me go.” She squirmed as much as his body would allow.

“Your nipples are hard.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Exertion.”

He tsk’d, and shook his head with mock disappointment. “You should have taken that, because now the only other way to prove you’re aroused will involve a little more…”


“Admit it.”


He transferred both of her wrists and the handful of hair to his left hand. His right hand slid down her arm, paused for only a moment at her ribcage, then without permission or apology, he covered her breast. She made a furious animalistic sound. Not because she didn’t want him to touch her, but because she wanted it so much, and she denied herself.

“Don’t touch me you bastard. I’ll press charges.”

“Admit that you’re aroused and I’ll escort you to the door.” His hand left her breast to slide down her stomach.

“I’m not.”

“Ryann, this is your last chance.” His fingers flirted with the hem of her skirt, which had ridden up her thigh in their struggle.

“If you touch me I’ll scream.”

His smile was dangerous. “I know you will, that’s precisely what I’m going to prove. That’s what all this is about. This is why you’re so worked up. It has nothing to do with my being married, and everything to do with you. Denying the obvious. Admit it, and we’ll go from there.”


His eyes danced across her face, but otherwise he didn’t move. His grip on her wrists was still fierce, and his palm rested against her thigh, driving her mad with its immobility.

“Remember that kiss?”


He ignored her. “In your office? I was hard for you then, too. I remember how sweet you tasted on my tongue. You remember, don’t you Ryann?”

She whimpered. God yes she remembered that kiss. She would never forget the taste of chocolate on his tongue. Or her fingers on his chest. And how his heart beat in her hands… She pinched her eyes closed, turning away from that memory as much as his hold would allow.

“I see that you do,” he spoke against her mouth.

She almost surrendered there. She almost told him what he wanted to hear, and damn pride to hell, anything to get his body off of hers before she gave in to temptation and begged him to take her right here on the floor.

Saturday Sexcerpt – “Nailed” by Cindy Spencer Pape

Please welcome back Cindy for our Saturday Sexcerpt.  This is from Cindy’s latest release:  


A Carnal Reunions Tale

By Cindy Spencer Pape

Available now from Resplendence Publishing:

Blurb: When shy scientist Karen Sikorski meets up with her college crush, Warner Beckett, sparks fly, but she knows the handsome contractor would never fall for a plain nerd like her. Warner, though, has other ideas. Smart, voluptuous Karen is everything he’s ever wanted in a woman, and this time around, he’s enough of a grown up to appreciate it. Now all he has to do is convince the lady he really does want her–in every way possible.


Excerpt (ADULT):

“I haven’t done this in a long time, Warner.” It had been over three years—since before Aunt Gracie got really sick. “I hope I’m not a huge disappointment.”

Warner sat down on the bed beside her, took her face between his hands and kissed her gently. Then he looked directly into her eyes and said, “Believe it or not, it’s been a while for me too. And there’s no way you could disappoint me, unless you don’t want to do this. As long as we’re both here because we want to be, and we’re both having a good time, then there’s nothing to worry about.”

That’s all she needed to hear. Taking the initiative, she went up on her knees and kissed him this time, her mouth gently shaping his, one hand tunneling into his short blond locks while the other gripped his shoulder for balance.

He relaxed, letting her maintain control of the kiss. He cupped her ass with his hands, kneading gently without any real force or pressure. When she pushed her tongue inside his mouth, he stroked it with his own, but he didn’t push back—just let her have her way with him.

“Mmm.” Finally she pulled back for a breath, feeling her bones start to melt into goo. She let her hands drop to the buttons of his shirt, easing them open one after another until she had access to his sculpted chest. After pushing the shirt off his shoulders, she sat back on her heels, content for a moment to admire perfection. Crisp golden hairs curled in a soft mat over chiseled muscle that tapered down to his slim waist. His chest was almost as tan as his face, but not quite. There was a faint line on his arms and neck that told her he’d gotten the color by working outside, not from lying by a pool.

“My turn now.” He reached over and took the hem of her navy blue sweater in his hands, carefully drawing it up over her head and setting it down on the bed beside them. His finger trailed down along the shoulder strap of her powder blue cotton bra, and along the line of it to the vee between her breasts. “I was guessing white,” he teased. “But the blue is pretty against your creamy skin.”

She felt herself flush all the way down to where his finger still rested.

Warner pulled her into his lap and kissed her again, his hand shaping the lines of her back and waist, before sliding up between them to cover both of her breasts. His big hands cupped her softly, his palms rasping her aching nipples through the cotton covering them.

Karen ran her fingertips over the muscled contours of his back and shoulders, loving the solid strength beneath the warm skin. His erection prodded at her thigh, straining the fabric of his jeans, and she knew her own jeans had to be just about soaked. It was time, she decided, to remove those barriers.

Pulling her face away from his, she wiggled off his lap to stand beside the bed.

“Jeans,” she whispered, amazed at her own daring.

Warner grinned, the lines that crinkled at the corners of his sky-blue eyes only adding to his appeal. “Great idea.” He slid to his feet beside her and immediately unbuckled his belt while she managed her own zipper with shaky fingers.

With a deep breath, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her blue cotton panties and shoved them to her feet along with her pants. Oh, hell, had she remembered to shave her legs? When? She hadn’t had a wax in—years. Maybe she could convince him to turn off the lights.

Then Warner dropped his Levi’s to the floor and she forgot everything.

You can buy your copy of “Nailed” here:


You can find Cindy here:

Website: http://www.cindyspencerpape.com

Myspace: http://www.myspace.com/cindyspencerpape

Newsletter Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/cspapenewsgroup/

Blog; http://cindyspencerpape.blogspot.com/

Cian Fey: http://cianfey.blogspot.com