Wednesday, December 30, 2015

New Year's Resolutions?

With New Year's right around the corner, I find myself debating making resolutions. I do this every year. Do I want to start the New Year off with a set of specific goals or do I want to leave myself wiggle room to work on problems that hit me out of the blue right around April?

I want to be healthy, happy, and productive. Who doesn't? That's not the issue. The issue, with me, is as soon as I make a decision to eat better or workout more I have to find a way to get out of it. Yes, I'm that mature.

So I've decided to go with five areas of my life that could use a little improvement.

5. Writing:

I'm not going to promise to write a specific amount each and every day. That's a fool-proof recipe for failure for me. Sure, that works for some. And if you're one of those people, I think you're amazing. But 2015 was a rough writing year for me. It actually started in 2014 and spilled over into 2015. Regardless, I can't let things I have no control over control me. So in 2016 I will write....more.

4. Organization:

I need to get  my house and my life organized. I'm not sure how I'm going to do this yet. I have a great calendar app on my phone that I do use. So that part is covered. But I seem to collect papers, and books, and, well, just stuff. I mean, I'm not going to be on an episode of Hoarders anytime soon but this still has to stop. I've started using housework as a regular excuse not to write and that's unacceptable. I think I need to do a purge to help fix this one.

3. Health:

I'm a pretty healthy person but I've noticed my energy is lagging lately. Could be dealing with the housework and clutter, could be because I turn forty this year. That's right. I'm going to be forty. Not thirty-nine for the second time. I worked hard to make it to this age. Several of my friends and family were not as fortunate as I. I'm owning it. But I think I do  need to look into foods and activities that help boost energy. I'm not getting any younger.

2. Make Over?

New Year, new look? This one is a maybe. I've pretty much looked the same for the the last....well....couple of decades. I did dye my hair red once, but it didn't have much of a punch. I dyed it in the fall when my hair tends to turn reddish anyway. I always get the same hair cut and I wear the same clothes. Seriously, I have jeans that are ten years old that I still wear. Their comfortable. But maybe it's time to shake things up and step out of my comfort zone? This one is still under consideration. New looks are expensive and there is something to be said for being comfortable with who you are.

1. Go on More Adventures:

With my kids getting older, it hits me that in a couple years my husband and I will have the house to ourselves in the foreseeable future. For so long, I've been in mommy mode that the light at the end of the tunnel is looking interesting. But why wait? They're old enough for my husband and I to get out and go on adventures.

So what about you? Do you do resolutions? I tried to keep mine as a guideline without being suffocating. I don't have any actually hard and fast goals but just enough to (hopefully) nudge me in the direction I'd like my life to go. Either way, I wish you all happy and healthy 2016!

Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Catering to His Needs by Rose C. Carole




Buy Catering to His Needs below!!
Website: roseccarole.com
Twitter:@roseccarole
Facebook: Rose C. Carole

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I’m a Scorpio and a triple one at that, meaning my Ascendant, Sun and Moon signs are all in Scorpio. People often back away just a little when I tell them that, knowing that Scorpios are known for being intense, and being a triple amplifies that intensity to levels that may not be safe to be around. They aren’t totally wrong about that, but if someone risks it, the payoff can be tremendous.

I think I’m very lucky being a triple. Despite the fact that I often admire the organized, rational, sensible people around me—and bemoan my inability to keep an orderly household and more importantly keep my temper in check—I realize that the ability to be very in touch with my emotions is what has brought incredible richness into my life.

I’m loyal to a fault, finding reasons to excuse possible insults and slights by those I love, and go out of my way to be there for friends and family. As a result, I have forged lasting relationships, having people in my life I can rely on as well. (The flip side is that if you finally do that one thing that sends me over, you are dead to me forever.)

I also find that if I decide to do something, I go all in. That can sometimes create havoc in my life because I try to do too many things at once—more knitting projects than I can complete or too many different kinds of vegetables in my garden with not enough time to tend to them. But it also means that when I decided to expand my cooking knowledge so I could write a diabetic cookbook , I went through professional culinary training for a year, an experience so gratifying I became a caterer. Had I just taken a class at a local school, I would never have had the joy of discovering the techniques in the kitchen that now allow me to create the wonderful dishes that I serve to those I love as well as to clients. Nothing is more rewarding than bringing tantalizing food with its enticing aromas and flavors to the table and watching others swoon over it. Because really good food touches the soul the way really good sex does. And I get to have that glorious connection with people almost every day.

And when I decided to concentrate on writing, I did everything I could to learn about the craft, going to workshops and conferences to learn from people whose work I respected and writing obsessively to hone my ability. My first book was a failure, but I learned a lot from writing it. And my next book is now being published by Totally Bound after winning the BDSM Writers Con book contest. I put a lot of my heart in the book much like I do when I cook. I hope when readers finish it, they feel as satisfied as if they’d had a fabulous meal—or really fabulous sex.

So here’s a look at Catering to His Needs, the first book in my Kitchen Confessions series.

Ethan is at his wit’s end. Gina, his brother’s ex-wife, has threatened to reveal that Ethan is a member of the Playground, an exclusive BDSM club, unless she gets more alimony from the family trust fund. The scandal that would arise from such a revelation must be avoided at all costs--not only for the sake of Ethan’s reputation, but for the future of his relationship with his treasured sub, Rebecca. 
Rebecca is a single mother working hard to expand her catering business. The only peace she finds from her building stress is in the handcuffs of her strong Dom, Ethan. But Rebecca’s life is not her own. Her teenage son is not handling Rebecca’s divorce well, and Rebecca feels the responsibility for her son’s happiness like a weight on her shoulders. Between her business and her son, she has little time for herself--or the growing emotional demands from her Dom.
Ethan is determined to take their relationship to the next level, and Rebecca is equally determined not to upset her son further by revealing that she has a new man in her life. Fortunately, Ethan is a Dom with a passionate interest in seeing that his sub is happy--even if he has to whip some sense into her. He’s making progress until suddenly his own problems take a turn for the worse. His brother Zach has gone missing under suspicious circumstances and now it’s all Ethan can do just to keep himself out of jail. The cat, as they say, is out of the bag.
As their lives spiral out of control, will Ethan and Rebecca be able to find a way back into each other’s arms?
Excerpt:

Rebecca stood looking at the paper grasped in her trembling fingers. I can do this, she told herself. Ethan wouldn’t allow her to expose herself to strangers, but she still looked around furtively to make sure no one was looking.
She read the words again.

Strip.
Put on your uniform.
Put the larger cuffs on your ankles.
Put the smaller cuffs on your wrists.
Place your clothes, your cell and purse in the metal box under the bench and secure it shut.
Once you have done all of the above, turn the paper over.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she slowly took off her clothes and folded them carefully on the bench then put on the garter belt, stockings and black stilettos she had brought. After securing the cuffs on her wrists and ankles, she put her clothes and purse into the box and shut it. Another deep breath—and another. Then she turned over the paper.

Take the end of the chain on the fence and secure it around your neck with the attached lock.

Oh, my God, really? They had a whole weekend to explore their Dom/sub relationship, and needless to say, it was starting off with a bang. Well, she had wanted to delve into their dynamic more fully than for just an evening. She sure got what she’d asked for—a challenge every step of the way. Her whole body shook and she had to take some more deep breaths to calm herself down. Then she walked over to the narrow chain tethered to the fence, secured the loose end around her neck with the small padlock and sat quickly down on the bench to keep from falling over her trembling legs. And she waited—and waited.
Okay, let’s get this show on the road before I have a stroke. I can’t stand the suspense anymore. Where are you, Sir?
The early September afternoon was still warm, but she shivered as she wrapped her arms around her body to shield her naked breasts.
“Arms at your sides.”
Rebecca jerked her head up to look into the deep chocolate brown eyes of Ethan, standing at the edge of the fence. He had a stern look on his face that made her even more nervous.


Buy Catering to His Needs below!!
Website: roseccarole.com
Twitter:@roseccarole
Facebook: Rose C. Carole


Website: roseccarole.com
Twitter:@roseccarole
Facebook: Rose C. Carole

Monday, December 28, 2015

NEW RELEASE! Susana and the Scott by Sabrina York #Tiara #Giveaway

Read on for a scorching excerpt from Sabrina latest Highland romp...and enter to win the Susana and the Scot Tiara!


Susana and the Scott
Bestselling author Sabrina York carries readers back to the wild Scottish Highlands, where the bravest of men surrender to no one-except the boldest of women...

Scotland, 1813.

A SCANDALOUS TEMPTATION
Andrew Lochlannach is famous for his conquests, on and off the battlefield. When a fellow warrior challenges him to a kissing contest, he wastes no time in planting his lips on ninety-nine lovely lasses-an impressive feat of seduction that gets him banished to the hinterlands. Still, Andrew has no regrets about his exploits-especially his embrace with the most beguiling woman he's ever met...

AN UNDENIABLE PASSION
With flaming red hair and a temper to match, Susana is not some innocent farmgirl who gives herself over easily to a man, even one as ruggedly handsome as Andrew. The wicked Scot may have won a kiss from the headstrong beauty in a moment of mutual desire, but Susana refuses to be just another one of his conquests. Andrew must convince the fiery lass that even though he is not playing a game, losing her is not an option...

"You can't go wrong with a Sabrina York story."-Desiree Holt

READ AN EXCERPT!

Susana was annoyed. There was no doubt about it. The swish of her hips as she led him across the bustling bailey was a dead giveaway, that and the dark glowers she shot over her shoulder. But Andrew couldn’t help but be amused. For one thing, she was damn alluring with she was annoyed.
Hell, she was damn alluring altogether. The curve of her waist alone could drive a man insane, much less that silky tumble of hair. He wanted to wrap it is his fist, wind it around his body. A certain part of his body.
At the thought, his cock rose.
It was difficult to remind himself that he’d vowed to eschew seduction, but try as he might, he couldn’t banish the fantasy of stripping those breeks from her lovely body and laying her down in the heather. Visions of that twitching backside—bare before him—danced in his head.
But he’d made a vow. A sacred vow. And as tempting as she was, he would control his baser urges. He could. Probably.
These thoughts whirled in his head as she led him into the stables, past his men—who were unpacking and seeing to their horses—and through the kennels. Though he was perplexed, Andrew followed. He would probably follow anywhere she led. It was a fact that should have scared him to death or at the very least, concerned him. But it didn’t. However, when she started up a staircase at the very end of the long hall, he had to stop her.
She glared at the hand he set on her arm. He tried to ignore the sizzle that raged through him at their first touch. It was ridiculous how much that touch affected him. And how much he enjoyed her glare.
He edged closer. “Where are we going?” he asked in a purr.
Judging from her frown, his tone irritated her. He rather enjoyed irritating her, he found.
She ripped her arm away and continued up the stairs. He followed and found himself in a narrow loft that ran the length of the kennels. It was dim and a little dusty. Motes danced on the air. The roof was so low he had to duck his head to miss the rafters.
“Your men will stay here,” she said.
Andrew gaped at her. The room was swept clean and empty. A thin shaft of light from the far window illuminated it with a murky light. But the yipping from the kennel and the stench of excrement wafted up from below. For some reason, all thoughts of alluring backsides dissipated. Disbelief gushed through him. “Here?”
She crossed her arms and offered what could only be described as a smirk. “Here.”
He tipped his head to the side. “This is a kennel.”
“I am aware of that.”
“I have twenty-five men.”
“The room is quite large.”
“There are no beds.”
She blew out a breath. “We’ll bring in pallets.”
Andrew blinked. He set his teeth and tried to remain calm. His men were warriors. They did not sleep on pallets. In a kennel. “This will not do.” Surely she saw that. Surely she understood… He caught a glimpse of her smug expression and it dawned on him.
She did. She did understand. She knew damn well what she was doing. Her response only verified his suspicions.
“I’m sorry, but you have descended upon us with no warning whatsoever with a large group of men. I’m afraid this is all we can offer you at this time.” Her smile was deferential, but hardly sincere. The light dancing in her eyes lit a flame in his belly. “Of course, if our accommodations are unacceptable, you can always return to Dunnet…”
Oh, she’d like that, wouldn’t she?
The minx.
Rather than the exasperation her self-satisfied look should have sparked, Andrew found himself filled with another emotion entirely. Anticipation. Exhilaration. The thrill of a challenge.
For that was what she was, Susana Dounreay. A challenge.
And it appeared she reveled in provoking him.
A pity she didn’t understand he was a dangerous man to provoke.
The tumult her presence sparked within him flared again, burning the edges of his resolution; his inconvenient lust blossomed, and with it, an unruly resolve.
He wanted, very badly, to kiss her.  He wanted to wrench her into his arms and cover her sweet mouth with his. He wanted to taste her, consume her, possess her.
And he would.
Clearly he wasn’t the kind of man who could swear off women. Clearly he wasn’t the kind of man who could keep a vow.
So be it.
Damn to hell his ridiculous vow.
Damn to hell the fact that she was his sister-in-law.
He was going to seduce this vixen, and he would start right now.
Desire, like a snarling, snapping beast, rose within him, and he stepped closer.

Susana’s eyes flared as Andrew advanced on her, like a skulking fox that had spotted a plump rabbit. She didn’t mean to retreat, but she had to. She’d seen that expression in his eyes before and she knew what it meant. Something within her howled: Run.
Perhaps it was the expression in his eyes, or the knowledge that she was playing with fire, or the sudden realization that she’d foolishly come here, to this deserted loft with the most dangerous man she’d ever met, but she couldn’t still the urge to whirl and pace to the far end of the room to peer out of the smudged window. She was aware he followed. She felt his presence like a fire in a forge.
Desperation prompted her to continue their conversation, to put some space between them, to raise a shield. “The room is perfectly habitable,” she proclaimed. “And once we have pallets brought in, it will serve you well.”
“Will it?”
His voice was low in her ear, a whisper almost. And far too close. She wanted to turn, to confront him, but she knew, if she did, they would be face to face, perhaps lip to lip and she could not allow that. She could never allow that.
The last time he’d kissed her, it had been her undoing.
A pity he didn’t remember.
“My men willna like being housed with the dogs.” Holy God. Was that his hand on her hip? His thumb tracing her waist? “Nae doubt they will all want to find…other beds to welcome them.”
Susana stilled as his words sank in. The threat was clear. And it was rather horrifying. A horde of randy warriors set loose on the innocent maidens of Dounreay? That his hand had slid over to toy with the small of her back, to tangle in the skeins of her hair, didn’t help.
Her pulse thudded and her knees went weak. She couldn’t have it. She couldn’t have this man touching her. She sucked in a breath and slipped to the side, out of his grasp. When she was far enough away for some measure of safety, she turned to face him, a reproachful look fixed on her face. “Are your men so lacking in discipline?” She hoped her frown, her reproving tone, would bring him to heel. She should have known better.
He grinned and stepped closer. His eyes glinted, as though needling her was an amusing sport. “They are verra disciplined…when their needs are met.”
She crossed her arms, as though that could protect her, and pretended to study the room. Pretended she wasn’t aware of his thrumming presence, his heat, his intent. “Well, I shall hold you responsible for any…improprieties.” She took a step toward the staircase, only a tiny one—surely not an attempt to escape.
He chuckled—chuckled, the bastard—making it clear he recognized her cowardice for what it was. And he paced her.
“They’re all good men. They all volunteered to come with me. Each and every one of them is dedicated to the cause of protecting Reay from the villains who have been plaguing you. However…”
The way he trailed off derailed her retreat. She stilled. Glared at him. “However, what?”
“However, they do have…needs. Surely you can find better lodgings.”
She blew out a breath. “In time.” In time.
In time, he would be gone, God willing.
He stepped toward her again, although nonchalantly, as though he were not chasing her across the room. It occurred to her they were engaged in something of a macabre dance. It set her nerves on edge. She hadn’t realized what a long room this was, or how far it was to the stairs.
“Doona leave it too long.” His smile was heinous. It made all kinds of shivers dance over her skin. “My men are…restless.” She had the chilling sense he was talking about himself.
“I shall…do my best.” Like hell. “And now, if you will excuse me, I have things to do.”
His brow quirked. She tried not to notice what a perfect brow it was. “Ah, but I thought you and I could…talk.”
“Talk?” She didn’t intend to squawk, but she could tell from his predatory stance, a conversation was not the primary urge on his mind. At least, not one with words.
He nodded. Though his features were patently earnest, the sincerity was patently affected. “About the defenses you have in place…so I can decide what needs improvement.”
Aggravation rippled. It displaced her concerns about being here, with him, all alone. Fury did that, she’d often found. Overrode common sense and led one into dangerous waters. Her hands curled into fists. She strode toward him until they were nearly nose to nose. “Nothing needs improvement,” she snapped. They didn’t need him. Or his men. Or his stupid ideas.
“Nonsense. Now that we’re here, we intend to make a statement to Stafford, or whatever miscreants are lurking out there thinking Dounreay is an easy target. But before I set my plans in motion—”
“Your plans?” He already had plans? Och! He was so exasperating.
She barely noticed that he stepped closer…until their chests brushed. He was hard and hot; the touch made her tingle. His voice, low and luring made her tingle as well. His gaze skated over her face, then stalled on her lips. “Let’s meet and discuss—”
Her pulse skittered. “I doona have time to meet with you. Not today.” She took a step back. He followed.
“Nae?” A whisper. And his caress over her shoulder, that was a whisper as well. Like a panicked fawn, Susana eased back again. And again. He matched her, step for step.
She swallowed heavily. “I… You have descended upon us with no warning—”
“My brother sent a letter.”
He was too close. Far too close. She swallowed heavily. “Twenty-five men that now need to be housed and fed. On top of that, I have many other duties that need attending.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Which duties?”
“Many duties.” She frowned and glanced toward the staircase. Ah, lord. It was so far… He was too warm. Too broad. Too alluring. Though she didn’t intend to, she took another step back and—
Oh hell. He’d backed her against the wall. That he couldn’t stand straight in the low-ceilinged room was a small consolation.
“Susana,” he said as he leaned closer. His breath was a tantalizing trail over her face.
An unholy thrill snaked through her. Surely that wasn’t anticipation? Hunger? Need?
She could not allow him to kiss her. She could not—
Her knees nearly melted at the touch of his lips. His warmth, his taste, his scent made her mind whirl. Thank God he had his hands on her waist and was holding her steady, or she might well have collapsed.
It occurred to her that she should push him away, fight him, but she couldn’t. Something, something deep within her resisted. Something deep within her needed him. Needed this.
And ah, it was glorious. As glorious as she remembered.
His lips were soft, gentle, questing as they tested hers and then, with a groan, he pulled her closer, melding their bodies together. He deepened the kiss, sealing his mouth over hers and dancing his tongue over the seam.
She opened to him. She couldn’t resist. He filled her senses with his presence, his heat. With tiny nibbles, sucks and laps, he consumed her, enflamed her. All sanity fled. All logic and resolution and anger flitted away as Andrew tasted her, tempted her.
His hands were not still. They roved over her body from her shoulders, down her arms to her waist. They tangled in her hair and stroked her cheek and chin.
Heat blossomed, skittered through her veins. Her body softened, melted, prepared for him.
She should not have responded the way she did. She should not have pressed against him, rubbed against the hard bulge on his belly. She should not have explored the hard flesh of his back, cupped his nape, raked his silken scalp. She should not have moaned.
Surely all these things would only encourage him.
He lifted his head and stared at her, an odd mixture of befuddlement and awe in his eyes. His tongue peeped out and dabbed at his lips, snagging her attention. Surely she didn’t lean toward him in a mute plea for more.
Was she truly so weak?
Aye. She was.


WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING ABOUT SABRINA YORK’S UNTAMED HIGHLANDERS

Bold and steamy—Publisher’s Weekly
A stunning tale from beginning to end—Love, Life and Booklust
Top Pick—Night Owl Reviews
York turns her talent for sizzle to men in kilts—and the women who love them—in her newest sexy romp—RT Magazine

Untamed Highlanders Series
Susana and the Scot—Coming December 29th
Lana and the Laird—Coming in May 2016

Want More Highlanders by Sabrina York?

About Sabrina York
Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy to scorching romance.  Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests. Get updates and alerts from Sabrina here: HotSheet Sign Up.

Follow my Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/sabrinayork
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Sunday, December 27, 2015

Wishes for the New Year

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas. Mine was pretty good and a little hectic. But hectic in a good way. My family was blessed with another baby two days before Christmas. My brother and his girlfriend welcomed a baby girl. She beautiful and perfect.

Now that Christmas is over and the New Year is only five days away, it's time to start thinking of those resolutions and goals for 2016 and reflect on the 2015. I'm focusing on the positive things that happened in 2015 and setting my goals based on those.

I want to wish everyone the best for the New Year, and may you reach all your goals and dreams.

Happy New Year!
Lia

Friday, December 25, 2015

Merry Christmas from the Decadent Divas!!

Enjoy!!



Decadently Yours,
Jennifer Kacey :)


The books in the Members Only Series can be found here...


Other Novels By Jennifer Kacey
Elite Metal – Book one in the Elite Warriors Series
Elite Ghosts – Book two in the Elite Warriors Series
Final Surrender – The Surrender Series
Violet's Shadow – The Shadow Mates Series
Aslan’s Stranger – Fantasies A-Z Series



Jennifer Kacey is a writer, mother, and business owner living with her miniman in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.

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