Passion/Retribution/Love
Her Hero
by Jane Leopold Quinn
These two
books are some of the most erotic I've written. In the recent years, my stories
have lightened up, become more mainstream with hot love scenes. So when I
re-read these early books, I was very pleasantly reminded with how much I loved
writing them.
Passion/Retribution/Love
The background
Several
years ago, I tried a NaNoWriMo. NaNo is
write a 50,000 word book in a month.
It's usually held in November of every year, but now there are NaNos in
other months. I divided 50,000 by 30
days to get 1,667 words to be written every day to meet the goal. In NaNo, you write flat out without any
self-editing. JUST WRITE! I finished with 2 days to spare. Whew.
The
inspiration for this was the cutest coach house I passed by every day on my
walk. I love dollhouses and although
this was a full size house, it was still tiny but just the right size for one
person. So, I had a home, now I needed
characters. A Chicago actress and a
Chicago cop seemed interesting. Then I
had to brainstorm names. I tend to come
up quickly with names so Sam Bolt and Liz Aspen were born.
After
expansion, the book became Undercover
Lover and was published by Siren. I
have the rights back, renamed it, and gave it a new cover.
Here's the blurb for Passion/Retribution/Love: Free spirited actress
Liz Aspen can't resist
masturbating to the fantasy of her gorgeous, hunky next door neighbor. If he
were only there in the bedroom with her, she wouldn't need Mr.
Fake-Nine-Inch-Cock. Sam Bolt,
loner and secretive undercover cop, gets an eyeful when he accidentally spies
on his neighbor from his window to hers. It's a shame what she's doing to
herself—when he could do it much better!
Their lives entwine when he saves her life,
but she's in further danger when his past meets his present. Sam hates the pain
he's caused, but can't stay away from her. He craves the promise of a normal
life with a soft, willing woman like Liz who doesn't have to fight torturously
dark demons. Addicted to his powerful lovemaking, Liz finds him as compelling
as she is confused by the mystery of what he's not telling her.
Will she still love him when he finally
tells her the whole truth? Can Sam accept that his past actions don't need to
destroy a future with a woman who has proven her strength—emotionally and
physically?
Excerpt
Liz has been taken
hostage by Sam's enemy.
She survived the
danger inside her house but
now they're outside
the front door
surrounded by cops
and emergency workers…
"Enough of
this chit chat. We're coming out. That SUV'd better be in position, or she's
dead right now, right in front of you." Dominguez slid his left arm around
her neck and squeezed, forcing her toward the door.
Liz jerked and
fought, afraid of passing out, this
time from the pressure of his arm around her neck. Flashing stars danced in her
vision, and she couldn't get a deep breath. Dominguez held her upright, because
he needed her as a shield. He opened the front door, and before stepping out,
transferred his gun from the hand at her neck back to his right hand.
The bright
lights blinded her. She turned her head away. Giant spotlights shone glaringly
on the house. A dozen police cars, fire engines, and ambulances, all with their
lights flashing, dotted the street. A helicopter droned ominously above them.
If she'd been scared before, this was worse. Soon everything would be all over.
Either she'd be dead now or dead later out in the country. In no way did she
believe he'd let her go.
The police
ranged haphazardly in front of them, the SUV close, driver's side door yawning
open and waiting. She did not want to get in there. Closing her eyes, she
prayed whatever happened would happen fast. He held the gun to her temple. The
cold metal felt savage against her skin. She was defenseless with her hands
taped behind her back.
Open your eyes, Liz. Look at me. Look at me, baby.
In her head. The
words were in her head. At first they didn't mean anything, just low sounds
beneath all the other noise.
Look at me.
Sam.
Liz, baby, open your eyes.
She cranked her
eyes open a slit, saw the thick arm cloaked in dark wool imprisoning her neck.
Her lashes lifted, she let her gaze roam under the level of the lights, the
cops, the cop cars, back down to the arm restraining her. These might be the
last things she ever saw… A strange peace took over. It was out of her control.
Look at me, love. Look away from him. Look at me.
She didn't think
she could be any more terrified. If she died, could she do it with dignity? Did
that even matter? Sam. She found his face in the crowd, their eyes locked. He
was so beautiful, the sweet and sensual memories came back to her. Tears rolled
down her cheeks.
She gagged but
was too frightened to moan. She wanted to scream and never stop but was too
terrified to make a sound. She lost Sam in the crowd. Her gaze flicked
desperately from face to face. It looked like a scene from a movie. A scene out
of a nightmare. Surely this many people could save her. She struggled, testing
his hold.
Dominguez
tightened his arm across her throat, the gun's mouth lethal on her forehead.
There, she found
Sam again. The blades of the helicopter still thwapped overhead, and the police
radios still squawked. Everyone waited for Dominguez to make his move. She
wished something would happen. Just to get it over with.
###
Her Hero
The
second erotic short I ever wrote was intended for a Whiskey Creek Press Torrid
anthology titled Lust. In that antho,
the story was Mercenary Desires. It
was republished by Siren and is now self-pubbed with a new title and new cover.
The
inspiration for this hot story was something not very "hot" at all.
It was winter and cough medications were advertised on TV. One particular
commercial caught my eye. A unattractive fellow coughed all day long,
irritating his co-workers. Someone offered him a cough drop and poof!, he turned into a non-coughing
hunk. A story popped/poofed! into my
head. An ugly, bearded, beat up looking man rescues a beautiful woman from
danger. Hint: he cleans up nicely. 
Here's the blurb to Her Hero: Rowdy
Pierce-warrior. Sara Stewart-artist. Macho mercenary rescues posh jewelry
designer. Their lives collide in an spectacular rescue and escape across the
Egyptian desert. Sara falls for her sexy, body-to-die-for hero and makes the
first move. Rowdy, fascinated by the luscious, sweet-bodied, free-spirited
woman he saved, takes what Sara offers. He doesn’t expect to lose his heart.
Will their lust turn to something deeper back in the real world?
And an excerpt
“Not here.”
“Where?” His voice
was an embarrassing breathless, husky whisper.
“My office…big
couch.”
“Thank you, Lord.”
He swept her up—he loved doing that—charged through the doorway to her office,
kicked the door shut, and dropped her down on the sofa. The little devil lay
there beaming up at him with those blue eyes, not looking icy at all. Rowdy
knelt beside the couch. “Take this off,” he ordered as he pulled her sweater
and tank top all the way off over her head.
“Sonofabitch.” His
breath caught in his throat. He was afraid his heart would stop.
“You don’t like
it?”
Her falsely
innocent question kicked it back in. “Like?” he gasped. Glancing at her pleased
expression, he dragged his gaze back to her breathtaking breasts. His tiny
feminine side appreciated that her bra was spectacular, the colors shimmering
into each other, the lace barely covering her. But he could give a shit. The
huge masculine side wanted to taste the soft, cushiony skin, preferably…now. He
lowered his head and sucked her nipple between his teeth.
She responded with
a sharp cry.
Right through the
lace, he rocked it, lashing the tip with his tongue.
She twisted and
surged, her fingers in his hair, gripping his head. “The other one,” she begged
with little kitten-like mews.
He was a good boy;
he did as he was told. With a final nip, he lifted his head and whispered, “The
jeans.”
She nodded
frantically. “Uh huh…”
He slid them down
her long, beautiful legs, right off over the sexy stilettos. “Fuck.” The
panties matched her bra, blonde pussy hair peeping through the lace over her
mound. “Jesus, sweetheart, you’re killin’ me,” he groaned. “Long legs, sexy
underwear, and stilettos? I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
Sara groaned. Her
chest rose and fell sharply. “I want you inside me now. Slow later,” she
ordered, gripping the front of his shirt.
“Yes, ma’am.” He
stood, divested himself of his shirt, boots, and jeans, and after peeling her
out of her bra and panties, knelt between her thighs on the cushions. “Leave
the shoes on,” he commanded. He didn’t give a crap if those spikes scratched
his ass to ribbons.
“Rowdy, I want
you…now.” She clutched his arms, pulling him toward her.
###
Besides
loving these two stories, I've discovered the pleasures of making my own
covers. The Jimmy Thomas site romancenovelcovers.com has been a gold mine of
possibilities for me. I've used pre-made covers from that site, and now I've
begun buying stock images and adding my own title and author name. I've also
used iStock.com and periodimages.com. My covers are simple, but I
think pretty effective. Her Hero's
cover is downright scorching hot. 
My eyeballs are smiling.
My eyeballs are smiling.
About me
Sensual fantasies were locked in my mind for years until a friend
said, "Why don't you write them down?" Why not, indeed? One spiral
notebook, a pen and the unleashing of my imagination later, and here I am with
more than a dozen books published. The craft of writing erotic romance has
become my passion and my niche in life. I love every part of the creative
process—developing characters, designing the plot, even drawing the layout of
physical spaces from my stories. My careers have been varied—third grade school
teacher, bookkeeper, secretary—none of which gave me a bit of inspiration. But
now I'm lucky enough to write romance full time—the best job in the universe!
And I'm fortunate enough to have found my own happily ever after husband.
Jane Leopold Quinn
My Romance: Love With a Scorching Sensuality
Amazon Author Page http://amzn.to/1DfiXkP
***
My Books
Indie
More Coming Soon
Siren
Ellora's Cave
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