One of my favorite aspects of summer has become the summer reading list. I know, I know, as a kid the thought of summer reading lists would make me roll my eyes and shake my fists at the sky. "Why, oh why, do I have to read over the summer?" I would ask petulantly.
But, just like naps, summer reading switched from a punishment to a reward somewhere along the line. And I'm fortunate enough that my youngest kiddo started out thinking of it as a challenge. For the last couple of years he finds these lists and challenges himself to read all the books on the list.
Last year he read the entire Bluebonnet Books list. This year it's the Lone Star reading list. I think part of the reason I love him reading these lists is because inevitably I read the books as well. His reading level is about two or three grade levels above his actual grade level so I read the books to see if he'll be able to emotionally handle the subject matter. If there are areas I think that will trouble him, I make a note to talk to him about them when he gets there. There has yet to be a book I've refused to allow him to read.
But he's not the only one who benefits from this arrangement. I don't hide the fact that I'm an avid romance reader. I joke that I write so I can have money to buy more books. But I do enjoy other genres of literature as well. I'm not as deeply invested in them as I am romance, however. So it's hard for me to decide what to buy in the other genres. The lists give me a starting point. There are times I love the book and decided to continue on with the series and/or author, but other times I'm not so crazy about it so I move on to the next one on the list.
The first book of this summer was Undertow by Michael Buckley. And, I have to say, I loved it! I read it in one day and can't wait to read the second book in the series. So this summer's reading list has started off with a bang for me.
What about you? Do you have any books you're looking forward to reading this summer?
All things naughty and decadent by Jennifer Kacey and tons of her dirty friends!
Thursday, June 9, 2016
Wednesday, June 8, 2016
Guest Post: Lynne Barron
I'll let you in on a little-known secret - I did not set
out to be a writer of erotic romance.
When I began my first book I intended the story to fall
within the realm of more traditional historical romance, a bit of spice
sprinkled throughout an otherwise purely romantic tale. The original manuscript
was laced with purple prose - those silly euphemisms writers use to describe
various parts of the body... buds, pebbles, pearls, etc. Oh, and just so we
don't ignore the manly parts...arousal, manhood and hardness.
Alas, after months of sending out queries and receiving
only silence or politely worded rejections in return, I decided to take a walk
on the wild side. I added length and depth to the sex scenes and replaced
the trite euphemisms with breasts, nipples, clitorises, cocks, shafts and the
occasional erection and penis.
I did not add a menage a trois, bondage, or even a spanking
scene to the book. It was straight lovemaking between a man and a woman without
benefit of toys, gadgets, whips or cuffs. And only one instance of rough
handling by my hero. To put it simply, the story was barely erotic and then
only by the grace of a few added details and naughty words.
Armed with a sexier version of the original manuscript, I
sent out another round of queries to publishers of erotic fiction. Much to my
delight, I was soon under contract for a three book series with a publisher who
shall remain nameless.
Thus Portrait of Passion was born. And soon afterward, died
a slow, torturous death. Lost in the netherworld of books that aren't erotic
enough to satisfy fans of the genre, yet a touch (to a cock or clitoris) too
racy for readers with a preference for more traditional romance.
By the time I recognized the abyss into which Portrait of
Passion had plummeted, it was too late. I was under contract to write two more
erotic romance novels to complete the series. I edged Widow's Wicked Wish a tad
nearer to the erotic side only in terms of the frequency of sexual encounters
and a faint hint at the darker desires my heroine might enjoy in the not too
distant future.
When I began the third book I decided to do more than take
a little stroll on the wild side. Unraveling the Earl is a far more wicked and
wanton tale, thanks to the heroine who is...well, wicked and wanton. Her past
is littered with debauchery of all sorts, some of which trickles into her
relationship with the hero of the story. There is a spanking scene, though it's
only two light taps instigated by the heroine during a light-hearted bit of
role-playing. And she does wind up tied to a bedpost with a lavender ribbon, a
scene which leads to all sorts of hilarity and mayhem. Oh, and she strips
herself bare and diddles her goodies for her hero's entertainment.
The antics of the heroine of Unraveling the Earl lead me to
quite a dilemma, a crisis of conscience you might say.
You see, recently the rights to the final book in the
series reverted to me. In preparation for the day I would re-release the
Idyllwild series, I read the first story, and then the second, marking naughty
words and entire paragraphs and pages for deletion or revision in order to
transform the stories from barely-erotic to sensual romance novels. And
hopefully lift them from the abyss so that readers browsing for a book might
actually discover them, perhaps even read and enjoy them.
Then I started reading Unraveling the Earl.
And I came to the realization there is no way to transform
this tale into anything other than what it is - a story wandering the fine line
between erotic and sensual romance. A tale of a woman with a past so far beyond
checkered it more closely resembles a garish paisley print, an enlightened
acceptance of all the many and varied ways men and women make love, and a desire
to please her lover in all ways. Thus pleasing herself in the process, selfish
bit of muslin that she is.
I love this story, I ate and slept and dreamed this story
while writing it. I was tormented and taunted by Georgie's secrets and motives
and her refusal to stay on the path to redemption. I was charmed and enchanted
by Henry's need to peel away her many layers, to discover the inner workings of
her mind and finally solve the puzzle that is her heart.
The story will not work without her licentiousness, without
her willingness to prey upon Henry's desires for her own selfish ends. If I
delete all the raunchy bits and pieces, the reader will never know Georgie,
never see beyond her scheming and lying to the lost and heartbroken woman
hiding behind it all, never believe an inherently good and kind man like Henry
could fall in love with her.
And
so, I have only made some minor revisions to all three stories in the Idyllwild
series, given them fresh edits and beautiful new covers, but they shall remain
tales filled with all sorts of dallying, frolicking and
even a hint of debauchery. Portrait of Passion is available now and Widow’s
Wicked Wish will be re-release June 21st, with Unraveling the Earl
due out in July. I hope readers are willing to walk
the fine line between erotic and sensual romance to discover my books. And that
when they do, like Henry, they will fall in love with Georgie, just as she is.
"I was never good or
clean or whole, my lord. I have always been wicked and broken and dirty. I am
vengeful and covetous and impulsive and selfish, and I like that about myself.
I like my murky morals and my stubborn streak and my dubious loyalty and my
greedy desire to claim what I want, no matter the cost. I like it all and
what’s more so do you.” - Miss Georgie Buchanan
What’s a gentleman to do when a
mysterious lady with a secret past and a reputation frayed around the edges
suddenly appears in London in pursuit of his naive young cousin, setting the
gossips’ tongues wagging, stirring his family into pandemonium, and driving him
mad with her irreverent ways?
If the gentleman in question is Simon
Carlisle, Viscount Easton, the answer is quite simple. Seduce the beguiling lady. But Miss Beatrice Morgan isn’t your average
tarnished lady. She’s lived a slapdash
life wandering the globe like a gypsy, painting fantastical portraits of duchesses
and landscapes featuring a crumbling old fountain, all the while harboring a
secret desire to return to the only home she’s ever known.
Will Beatrice sacrifice her honor,
her virtue, her very heart to reclaim Idyllwild?
EXCERPT
As they walked side
by side up the broad staircase, Bea could feel his curious gaze. She stared
straight ahead, afraid of what he might see in her eyes. Sorrow. Bitterness.
Deceit.
Bea entered her room
to find her maid asleep in a chair.
“Abby,” she whispered,
gently shaking her shoulder.
“Oh, Miss Beatrice,”
Abby cried sleepily, jumping to her feet. “I am that sorry to have fallen
asleep!”
“It is late. Of
course you fell asleep.”
“Shall I undress
you?” she asked before spotting Simon standing just inside the door. She
blushed and bobbed a clumsy curtsy.
“Would you be an
angel and find us a bottle of wine?” Bea asked the girl.
“Yes, Miss Beatrice,
right away,” Abby agreed and fled past Simon and out the door.
“Poor dear,” Bea
murmured, staring down at the chair the maid had abandoned. For some reason she
could not explain, she suddenly felt ashamed—angry and ashamed. The sight of
the sleeping girl, her eagerness to please, her blushing acceptance of the lord
in her mistress’s bedchamber, it all combined to make Beatrice feel dirty,
dishonest.
Finally she looked
over her shoulder. Simon had not moved, simply stood by the door regarding her
silently.
“Why are you standing
there?” she demanded, her voice low and deep. She heard the building fury, felt
it rush through her blood. She did not understand where it came from. She did
not know how to stop it, was not sure that she wanted to. The anger felt safe,
necessary. It would drown out the shame, allow her to get through this night
and the days to follow.
Simon quirked a brow
at her. Bea felt mean laughter rumbling up her throat, hitching her breath. She
spun away from his intent gaze, going to the window to stare sightlessly out
into the dark night. She heard Simon moving about the room.
“Please make yourself
comfortable,” she invited and realized she could see him reflected in the
window glass. She watched him remove his coat, fold it and lay it over a chair.
A soft knock on the
partially open door announced Abby’s return. Bea turned from the window. “Will
you set it up on the table by the bed?”
“Yes, Miss,” the girl
replied, again sidling around Simon, who stood before the table Bea had
indicated. Simon stepped out of her way then sat in a chair before the empty
fireplace.
“Shall I pour for
you?” Abby asked, addressing the question to Simon.
“Please,” he replied
with a smile that caused the girl to blush yet again.
Bea studied Abby’s
efficient movements, her hands agile and graceful as she poured a measure of
wine into each glass. Her gaze wandered over the girl, taking in her soft, blue
eyes, the strands of dark-blonde hair that had escaped from her mobcap, the
gray dress and white apron she wore.
She was a pretty
girl. Had Abby been born into a different family, she would be making her debut
soon, perhaps next year.
Instead she waited
upon a dishonest, lying, scheming woman. A bastard.
Bea could not hold
back bitter laughter at the thought. Simon turned his head to look at her in
surprise. Abby froze, her gaze flying to Bea’s face.
“You are a very
pretty girl,” Bea said and watched the blush deepen on the girl’s cheeks.
“Thank you, Miss
Beatrice,” she shyly replied, bobbing another quick curtsy.
When Bea only watched
her silently, Abby looked to Simon, who gave her a subtle shrug, before she
asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you, Miss Beatrice?”
“You may undress me.”
“Beatrice,” Simon
protested quietly.
“I would like Abby to
undress me and brush out my hair,” Bea insisted. She forced herself to raise
her eyes to his, unsure what they would reveal to him. She was confused, an
awful feeling of desperation mingled with the banked rage and shame. Would he
see?
Simon captured her
gaze, his eyes dark, not angry, uncertain perhaps. She knew she was behaving
irrationally. She did not care.
“I’ll step outside,”
Simon finally replied.
“Do not,” Bea said,
waving her hands about in agitation. “Please, stay.”
Simon looked from her
face to her hands, suspended in midair. She dropped them to her sides, clenched
her fingers in her skirts, grabbing fistfuls of the dark silk.
Bea looked at Abby,
standing as still as a statue, her eyes wide as she looked back. Bea realized
it was the first time the timid girl had ever looked her mistress in the eye.
As if reading her mind, the maid tore her gaze away and bent her head down.
“You may undress me,”
Bea whispered, wishing she had not started down this path, unable to retreat
from it.
As Abby approached
her, Simon rose to retrieve the two glasses of wine. He handed one to Bea, his
fingers brushing against hers as she reached for it. Her gaze flew to his face,
to see a small, infinitely sad smile upon his lips. His eyes were sober,
steady. Bea was struck with the notion that he understood the rage and shame
that had taken hold of her, that he understood her erratic emotions.
He nodded at Abby, as
if encouraging her to continue. Bea sensed the stiffening of the girls back,
though she could no longer see her. She had stepped behind her mistress to
unbutton her gown.
Bea sipped her wine,
hoping the cool liquid would somehow soothe the heat racing through her body.
Simon resumed his
seat and silently watched as Abby efficiently unbuttoned her lady’s gown and
carefully eased it over her shoulders, expertly catching it as it fell to her
hips, and easing it down to the floor. She knelt to the side and held up her
hand for Bea to hold for balance as she stepped from the pool of deep-blue
silk. Bea was left in her thin cotton chemise and light stays over lacy drawers
and silk stockings. She looked down at her feet encased in dainty slippers.
Bea brought her eyes
up to find Simon’s gaze fixed upon the swell of her breasts over her stays. He
swallowed, his throat working as if to get around a lump wedged there. He
clenched his jaw once, relaxed and raised his glass to his lips, his gaze never
wavering.
Bea took a long
swallow of her own wine, looked down at Abby silently kneeling before her and
realized that she still held the girls hand. She gave her fingers a gentle
squeeze and Abby looked at her questioningly.
“Your slippers?” she
asked.
Bea lifted one foot
then the other to allow the girl to remove her slippers, placing them on the
floor beside her gown.
She felt Abby’s
nimble fingers releasing the ribbons that held her stockings in place and
closed her eyes in relief. It was almost done. Soon she would be naked before
Simon and could send the girl to her bed. Regret for her actions toward her
maid left a sour taste in her mouth. She raised her glass to wash it away.
When she opened her
eyes, she found Simon watching her, studying the line of her throat, the lift
of her chin, the movement of her tongue as she licked the drops of wine from
her lips. His eyes lifted to hers and Bea was startled by the naked desire she
saw there.
Abby delicately
cleared her throat, slowly reached up and under Bea’s chemise to the ribbon of
her drawers. Bea guessed the girl was giving her time to stop her, time to find
a modicum of modesty. Bea did not halt her, only waited until the lace and
cotton crumpled to the floor to lift her bare feet and allow the maid to add
the garment to the growing pile of clothing next to her.
Lynne Barron
My Website Link: http://www.lynnebarron.com
Portrait of Passion
Amazon Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/Portrait-Passion-Idyllwild-Book-1-ebook/dp/B01FJAR8FA?ie=UTF8&ref_=asap_bc
Monday, June 6, 2016
The Evolution of a Book Cover
Several years ago I found a photo taken by the amazing Jenn LeBlanc I knew would be perfect for the cover of Sweetest Kisses. The composition, the hero, it was as if it was taken straight from the book. However, my heroine is a baker by trade, and the six-pack abs on the model in the photo didn't fit.
We all know that the modeling industry hires a certain body type. Fortunately, independent publishers are asking for more diversity in their photos. This means a rise in models of ethnicity and shape. Yay! But usually this also means a higher cost as these photos are still hard to come by.
Of course, the question then becomes how much do we, or should we, alter the photo. Below are a few of the examples. We played with bust size, belly rolls, and hips. In the end, proportion won out. There was only so much we could add without making her head, neck, and jawline appear too small in comparison.
And voila! Here is the finished product. Yes, she's a bit skinner than Nic, but at least she's been softened to a more realistic body size.
Website- http://annaalexander.net/
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 |
| Original Photo |
We all know that the modeling industry hires a certain body type. Fortunately, independent publishers are asking for more diversity in their photos. This means a rise in models of ethnicity and shape. Yay! But usually this also means a higher cost as these photos are still hard to come by.
Of course, the question then becomes how much do we, or should we, alter the photo. Below are a few of the examples. We played with bust size, belly rolls, and hips. In the end, proportion won out. There was only so much we could add without making her head, neck, and jawline appear too small in comparison.
And voila! Here is the finished product. Yes, she's a bit skinner than Nic, but at least she's been softened to a more realistic body size.
Isn't technology amazing!
Until next time, y'all,
Anna- The Super Diva
Website- http://annaalexander.net/ |
Newsletter
Amazon Page
YouTube
Instagram- annam.alexander
Sunday, June 5, 2016
The Wolves of Willow Bend are back! Snow Wolf by @HVLong #PNR #WickedlyHotWolves
SNOW WOLF by Heather Long
Outlaw Wolves & Defiant Hearts!
War may be coming for the
Yukon, but Diesel’s battle is very personal.
Ranae is the youngest of the Buckleys, and the only girl amongst
three powerful male siblings. Her restlessness and dominant nature has affected
every relationship within Willow Bend, not to mention testing the patience of
her Alpha. Apprenticeship to the Hunters fed her desire for a purpose. When her
Alpha and eldest brother ask her to undertake a mission to the Yukon territory,
she’s thrilled at the opportunity for a real chance to be useful. Clashing with the Alpha was the last thing she
expected on the dangerous assignment.
The oldest Alpha in the U.S. packs, lives a gray existence. The
loss of his mate so many decades before wears away at him, until he doesn’t
give a damn about anything. The problems of the other packs are not his, and he
prefers to be left to his isolation. The arrival of the Chief Enforcer annoys
him, but it is the wolf traveling with him who wakes the predator in Diesel.
The scent of mate clings to her, but she rejects his overtures and challenges
him on every level.
Read an excerpt
from SNOW WOLF:
Saturday, June 4, 2016
Some Sugar with Your Spice- Sweetest Kisses
It's a book birthday!!
Sweetest Kisses book four in the Sprawling A Ranch Series is out now at your favorite retailer.
Adam may be the baby of his family, and the youngest on the ranch, but that man is in no way childish, especially when it comes to those he loves. And I loved pairing him up to Nic, who I identified with entirely too much. There is a piece of me in all of my heroines, and Nic is the high school version of me. The girl with the pink hair who was ready to explore the world. Yeah... I'm still working on that.
*And for your long time readers, you may recognize the mention of a certain Marine that had to go undercover. *cough*cough*Adamantium *cough*
Pick up your copy today!
Website- http://annaalexander.net/
Facebook
Twitter
Newsletter
Amazon Page
YouTube
Instagram- annam.alexander
Adam may be the baby of his family, and the youngest on the ranch, but that man is in no way childish, especially when it comes to those he loves. And I loved pairing him up to Nic, who I identified with entirely too much. There is a piece of me in all of my heroines, and Nic is the high school version of me. The girl with the pink hair who was ready to explore the world. Yeah... I'm still working on that.
*And for your long time readers, you may recognize the mention of a certain Marine that had to go undercover. *cough*cough*Adamantium *cough*
Pick up your copy today!
Small-town life fits Adam
Maguire like a pair of favorite blue jeans, while Nicolette Fournier finds it
as constricting as a straitjacket. But when this good ol’ country boy and rock
n roll princess come together, sparks fly hot enough to melt the icing on the
delicious cakes in Nic’s bake shop.
As the youngest of six
brothers, nothing is more important to Adam than family, and he believes Nic
would make a great addition to his. Only Nic is counting the days to when she
has fulfilled familial obligations and can return to her life of open roads and
adventure, leaving bad childhood memories in her rearview mirror. To make this
free spirit his, Adam will have to pull out all of the stops to convince her
that the only bed he wants to set his cowboy boots under are hers, and home
wouldn’t be complete without her Doc Martens beside them.
Excerpt-
Criminy. No wonder Nic looked as if she’d swallowed a live
bull frog when he brought her to The Crescent. And it also made sense as to why
she was so gun-shy around people and insisted on being called Nic after hearing
the way Angela said her name, as if “Nicolette” was something icky found on the
bottom of her shoe. Was this how Nic had been treated all her life? Looked at
with scorn just because she marched to the beat of her own drum? It sickened him
to know that it was probably the case.
Even so, that didn’t mean he needed to allow that kind of
stupidity to continue.
“Nic!” he shouted, pushing his way closer to the staircase that
led up to the stage.
She caught his gaze through the gaps between the wide slats
of the cage and winked. With a rebel yell, she gestured to the DJ, who then cranked
up the volume on the guitar wailing opening of “Bad Girlfriend” by Theory of a
Dead Man.
The crowd went wild as Nic launched into a dance routine worthy
of the finest burlesque show. She shimmied, she bounced, she jumped up and hung
from the top of the cage, kicking her legs into positions Adam had only seen in
strip clubs.
Torn between lust and fear for her safety, he watched as she
whipped the crowd into a frenzy, moving with acrobatic skill as she climbed
down and fell to her knees to twirl across the floor. She was sex incarnate as
she temped and teased with a roll of her hips and shoulders. As Adam glanced around,
he noticed every man gazed at Nic with passion glittering in their eyes as their
girls looked on with envy.
“Holy shit,” exclaimed one of the fellas crowding behind
him. “Is that the chick from the bakery?”
“Oh yeah,” his buddy answered. “I didn’t realize she was so
hot.”
“Totally. I’d glaze her doughnuts any day.”
“Shake that ass, girl,” they shouted. “Shake that ass.”
Adam rounded on them with a growl. “Shut the fuck up. That’s
my girl you’re talking about.”
“Seriously?” The taller of the two slapped him on the back.
“You lucky bastard.”
Another whoop from the crowd brought his attention back to
the stage, where Nic was now hanging from the outside of the cage, swiveling
her body and encouraging people to spray their beers all over as if shooting
water from a fire hose. As she tried to dodge the sprays of foam, she wore the
biggest grin while she laughed and struck a pose as the song came to a
whirlwind finish.
“All right, all right. Let’s hear it for Nicolette,” the DJ
shouted over the thunderous applause.
Nic was helped down from the stage by a few admiring
cowboys. Ignoring their attempts to keep her attention, she kept her gaze
firmly on Adam as she passed a pissed-off Angela. Adam’s ex fumed, with rage in
her eyes and her hands clenched by her sides as beer dripped off the end of her
nose. Guess that would teach her for trying to get an up close look at what she
thought would be a train wreck.
“How was that?” Nic asked while her sweat glistened bosom heaved
as she caught her breath.
“That was…ahhh.” He lifted his hat to run his hand through
his hair as his brain struggled to form a sentence. The words claim and mine flashed behind his closed eyes like a billboard on Times
Square. “Damn, girl. All I can think to say right now is I really want to show
you the flatbed of my truck.”
Those wondrous breasts of hers bounced with her laughter.
“Then let’s go, cowboy.”
His voice dropped an octave. “Are you sure? Because I wanna
give you a real thorough tour.”
The corner of her mouth curled up with a wicked tilt, and she
curled her fingers around his belt buckle, brushing the hard length of his
erection that was testing the integrity of his jeans. “What are we waiting
for?”
Fuck yeah.
Read, love, enjoy!
Until next time, y'all,
Anna- The Super Diva
Website- http://annaalexander.net/ |
Newsletter
Amazon Page
YouTube
Instagram- annam.alexander
Wednesday, June 1, 2016
Cover Reveal for Aslan's Fetish by Jennifer Kacey and it's Available for Pre-Order!!
The next installment in the Fantasies A-Z Series is up for Pre-Order! And how about a cover reveal to go with it!!!!?!?!?
Here's my next pretty!!
That's right! Medical Fetish! SOOOO dirty!! It releases *snicker* on 6.21.2016!!
Decadently Yours,
Jennifer Kacey
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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.
Here's my next pretty!!
That's right! Medical Fetish! SOOOO dirty!! It releases *snicker* on 6.21.2016!!
Some
fantasies are too filthy to ask for. A rare few are so risqué even thinking of
them seems too much. Luckily, for Aslan, Zeke has a delicious way of fulfilling
all her dirtiest needs.
A fetish.
Gratification of a sexual desire, which is unequivocally linked to a specific
body part or type of clothing or practice.
Aslan never particularly
thought she had a fetish. One certain thing, which turned her on more than
anything else. Something that pushed all her delicious buttons at once,
rendering her a puddle of need overa fantasy too filthy to speak of.
Yet there is one
desire she’d never allowed herself to explore. Not after being programmed by
society to think it’s too dirty. Too immoral.
Looking up the
words “medical
fetish”in the dictionary would show a picture of
Aslan…strapped to a doctor’s exam table.
Who knewwhen her
annual checkup showed up on the calendar, it would spark a journey with her
husband into something beyond her filthiest imaginings?A handful of words and a
well-timed dream gave Zeke the knowledge he needed to give her a fantasy she
never even knew to ask for.
****************************
This is the fifth short story in a serial
release all featuring Aslan and Zeke. A married couple looking for more and
finding it in the arms of each other. There will be nine stories total, with
one being released every month or so. Short kinky stories meant to tantalize
and excite you. May you fall in love with love and everything that word means
to your fantasies…
Did you miss the release of the first 4 books? No worries!! Here's a link to each!!
Decadently Yours,
Jennifer Kacey
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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