romance – Page 3

Hot n Sprung Blog Hop – Hot Summer Reads

Usually the spring/summer season is when most television shows go in hiatus and we’re left to our own devices to entertain ourselves. Yeah, we could catch up on all the movies we refused to pay real money for last summer or try to get involved in a new series on Netflix or Hulu.

Don’t do that though. Stick with your fall/winter shows and use the better weather and lovely sunshine to stick your nose in a few great reads. There are so many great romance novels out there that by the time you get from under your to be read (TBR) pile, it’ll be fall. (And you’ll have a great tan.)

I like zombies. They scare the crap out of me, but I like ’em anyway. When I started watching The Walking Dead, then reading the graphic novel (highly recommended if you’re a fan of the show), I realized that I had a lot of questions. For example, when Rick is rescued by Morgan Jones, what happens to Morgan (and his son) after Rick leaves? Were there any other survivors, hiding out in their homes, looking for rescue?

What are their stories?

And that’s how Loving Among the Dead started, with a “what if”? What if a woman, sheltered constantly by her parents, the “good girl”, was suddenly thrust into the middle of a zombie apocalypse? Even though she is nearing thirty, an age where most people are making their own way in the world, her only security is getting home to her parents. But when she gets there, they’re dead. And she has to bury them.

What does she do now? Find out in Loving Among the Dead, my newest and first release with Loose Id.

You can win a copy, along with some other cool prizes and CASH!

Check out the Rafflecopter below.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Don’t forget to check out the others in this hop!

Fame is Murder – Freakquency by Caddell Brown Review

Welcome to Caddell Brown’s Book Tour. I am so pleased to host her today on my blog.

Blurb: Rick Chamberland had it all, fame, fortune and women. Until a phone call from his mother forced him to come home and confront the dark secrets of his family’s past. With club singer and small-town girl Song Peters at his side, Rick discovers a demonic presence connecting their families that threatens to destroy all that they hold dear.

My Review:

I had the distinct pleasure of reading an advance copy of Ms. Brown’s book. First of all, this is not a romance, but an erotic supernatural thriller, and it lives up to its promise.

Without giving too much away, Ms. Brown weaves a tale of generational secrets come to light with the return of rock star Rick Chamberland to his hometown. Called home by his mother for the funeral of his childhood pet, Rick crosses the path of Song Peters, an up and coming singer who works part time as a waitress. From then on, the story takes you down a winding road of closet skeletons, promises made and debts (not necessarily money) owed.

When you begin reading, you are sure you are reading one story, but Ms. Brown cleverly switches gears and pulls you even deeper into the supernaturally rich tapestry entwining the families of Song and Rick.

It’s not an easy read—there’s nothing light and fluffy about the subject matter—but it is an engaging narrative that showcases the author’s ability to take us to the dark places in the human psyche.

Highly recommended.

Author bio:

Caddell Brown, born and raised in East Texas, authors a range of speculative fiction. Among her early influences are artists Rene Magritte, film director Andrei Tarkovsky and authors Dan Simmons, Toni Morrison and Ai. It wasn’t until after taking a course in Creative Non-Fiction that she grasped what writing could be as a form of expression and while most of her works are fiction, there’s always something inside each story that touches on her years as an observant youth. Freakquency, her first novel under this penname, was inspired by the storytelling of her uncles, and other legends and folklore from around the world.

Check out the book trailer…..

Sad Songs Say So Much

It’s Monday, right? I’m not the type to sing the Monday blues, because that’s just not my style. Every day when I can wake up and do what I love is a blessing to me.

Now that my “positive thinking” public service announcement is out of the way, let’s move on to the meat of the matter.

The blues.

Everybody gets them at one time or another for all types of reasons, but today I’m going to focus on the love blues.

“The blues are the roots, everything else is the fruits.” – Willie Dixon

What is the blues? The blues have their origin in slave songs, field hollers and spirituals. For my purposes here, the blues is what you sing and/or feel when you are feeling sad.

You lost a lover. You never had a lover. Your lover loves someone else. So you sing the blues. Somehow knowing that someone else, somewhere in time was and/or is going through the same thing makes you feel not so alone in the world. The brotherhood of mankind has kinship in sadness.

“I can’t sleep at night
I can’t eat a bite
Because the man I love
He don’t treat me right….”
– Crazy Blues – Mamie Smith

Everyday, everyday I have the blues
Ooh everyday, everyday I have the blues
When you see me worryin’ baby, yeah it’s you I hate to lose
– Everyday I have the Blues – B.B. King

Now that we know what makes us sing the blues, what blues do you sing? What sad song do you listen to when you’re feeling low?

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Featured Author RaeLynn Blue

I am pleased as pink punch to welcome RaeLynn Blue to my blog today. I was fortunate enough to meet RaeLynn through Mocha Memoirs Press. a busy epress that offers “new flavors in fiction”. RaeLynn was sweet enough to give us some insight into title Native Hearts, part of the Native Heart series. Let’s take a look!

And how gorgeous is that cover, dahling!

Blurb: Lee Stone didn’t want a heart-shaped box of boring chocolates for Valentine’s Day. She didn’t want a trip to Vegas. She’d been there and done that. What she longed for was one Valentine’s Day that didn’t invite tragedy and chaos. The last three years with her boyfriend, Tank Begaye, had been host to a blizzard, a fire, and a heart attack. For once, she wanted to spend the day nestled in her lover’s arms.

Tank Begaye had weathered the long-distance relationship with Lee for years. Now, he meant to make her a permanent fixture in his life—as his wife. Avoiding the cliché Valentine Day’s proposals at restaurants and public landmarks, Tank knew exactly where to go—his family’s Hogan, deep in the heart of the Navajo Reservation. Surrounded by his ancestors’ spirits, he would ask Lee to join their family’s circle.

Excerpt:

© RaeLynn Blue 2014

Scarlet streaks flushed to pink and vibrant orange as the day bled from dawn to dusk. The colors painted the horizon along the burnt dust of the northern edge of the Navajo Nation’s reservation land. At over a mile high, this section of the high desert stretched out in all directions, racing toward its postcard edges. Picturesque, perfect, and patient, the land had witnessed death, destruction, and desperation. So why the H.E. double hockey sticks did Tank have her out here? The bright sunlight, crisp air, and fluffy white clouds belied the near twenty-three degree temperature. February became cold around these parts. The season didn’t care at all that today was Valentine’s Day.

Lee Stone frowned as the bite of another cold blast tore across the mesas and threatened to tear through her coat. Shuddering inside her parka, she could not fathom another Valentine’s Day mired in tragedy or random acts of chaos. Slivers of icy wind streaked through her ebony parka and her sweater, directly to her very bones. With her fingers growing numb inside her leather gloves, she yanked her hat farther down over her ears, and not for the first time, cursed the Valentine’s Day gods. It appeared that for the fourth year in a row, her sweetheart day would end in utter disaster. She looked around.

What could possibly be out here?

Biting her lip, she cast a glance at Tank Begaye. One eyeful of him never satisfied her. It never quenched her constant craving for him. His cowboy hat was tugged low over his eyes, and his arrow-straight black hair tied in a ponytail that hugged the nape of his neck. After four years, most couples’ fires had cooled to a comfortable temperature. Not theirs. Her desire burned blue-hot for him, just like the first day they met. Feeling the familiar tug of hunger skirt across her clit, she squeezed her thighs together before taking the next step forward. Her gaze moved downward from his neck to his leather-clad back, wide and delicious.

Whatever plans he had, she knew that the calloused hand of Fate would knock them off, scattering them into oblivion and the Navajo desert. They crested a ridge that looked out over the valley below. Speckled with Western-style houses, Hogans, and mobile homes, the sheep and yuccas outnumbered the living structures.

“Tank…” She detested the whine threading through her voice, but the suspense threatened to overtake her.
He gazed out toward the valley below and hummed. “It’s beautiful here.”

When she sighed, a stream of condensed air flew from her lips. They’d met at a freak party in Las Vegas and she’d lassoed his heart. He lived in Colorado and she resided in New Mexico. Each year they planned to meet on Valentine’s Day, and each year Fate fucked it up. The first year a blizzard tore through the Southwest and dumped a foot and a half of snow on the Four Corner region. The second year, a fire exploded in Tank’s ranch-style home the day before he’d planned to leave. Last year beat the mother of all tragedies. Tank’s ancient grandmother died two days before V-day. He was devastated. Maybe that was why he had them out here on the rez.

Road weary and exhausted from hiking through the high hills and low valleys of the reservation, Lee put her freezing hands into her pockets and fondled the thin, gift-wrapped box. She’d bought Tank a necklace, one with turquoise and silver crafted by a Zuni silversmith. As a Navajo, Tank had access to Native American crafts, but she’d had this piece crafted just for him. One of her students in Gallup was Zuni and her father a silversmith. Despite the cold outside burning her nose and making her ears sting, the gift warmed her.

“Where are we going?” she asked, calling above the sharp whistle of the wind.

He turned to her in that slow, seductive manner of his. “It’s a surprise.”

She bit back the retort she had in her throat. His sable-brown eyes peered out from beneath the shadow of his cowboy hat. Heat washed over her as if he’d touched her. Feeling better, Lee smiled and found her hope reassured. He did that all the time, sometimes with his voice over the cell phone, and other times with his eyes via Skype. The long distance between them had made maintaining their love a challenge, but when they were together, like this, it was all worth it—every mile, every minute, and every bit of money to keep and nurture what they had. She huddled deeper into her coat. Still, this hiking thing was not how she’d intended to spend her Valentine’s Day.

“This had better be good,” she mumbled.

He nodded and took her hand into his big one. His much larger hand engulfed hers.

“How much farther?”

“Just down this side path.” He inclined his head to the west.

Through the sparse grouping of trees, she saw the small, single-story structure. The door faced east, and puffs of fluffy smoke huffed out of a black circular chimney. Tank stepped in front of her, and led her down the narrow pathway that wound through the desert’s untamed brush. Lee had taught in New Mexico for the last fifteen years, so she recognized the Navajo Hogan when she saw it. A five-sided structure sat alone on the flattest section of the land. Packed adobe covered some of the walls, but harsh New Mexico winters had worn some of it down. The gusty winds whipped it down over the decades.

Lee had no idea what to expect and her feet failed to move. Tank must have felt her hand fall away, and he turned to her, concern on his face.

“What’s going on?” She couldn’t shake her rearing. There were places black folks just didn’t go. Besides, sacred places like Hogans and cemeteries were not normal destinations for Valentine’s Day.

Tank sighed. “It’s Valentine’s Day…”

“Not a sacred Navajo day…” she interjected.

He grinned at that. “No, no it isn’t.”

“So…”

“So follow me and I’ll give you a surprise.”

Buy it now for $0.99 cents until February 28th.

Mocha Memoirs Press, LLC: http://mochamemoirspress.com/native-hearts

All Romance Ebooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-nativehearts-1416555-149.html

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Native-Hearts-RaeLynn-Blue-ebook/dp/B00IAUKEIU/

Football Fridays and a Tiny Rant

Hello, my name is Dahlia and I’m an erotic romance writer. For those who don’t know what that means, “erotic romance” is an indicator that if you pick up one of my books (and please do) you will most likely stumble upon to an open door sex scene. You will most likely see the words “p*ssy”, “c*ck”, “d*ck”, “breasts”, “balls”, read about the exchange of bodily fluids and climaxes and orgasms (always a good thing). You will also read about people becoming aroused, thinking about having sex and invading others’ personal space, with sexy results.

I’m sure you’re wondering what’s up with the picture. Stick with me. You’ll see.

As a curious (nosy) person, I used (note the word ‘used‘) to peruse my Amazon book reviews as well as the reviews of other erotic romance authors. It is interesting to read how others view the erotic romance novel. Some of the reviews I’ve read have literally caused my jaw to drop.

I’ve read that some books are “pure p*rn”, nothing but “smut” or have “too much sex”. I’ve also read reviews in which reviewers commented that the heroine doesn’t “have respect for herself” because she f*cked a hot dude on page two. Furthermore, I’ve also read reviews that said “I don’t like books where the woman seeks sexual satisfaction”. I guess this last means the woman has to wait for the man to bring it.

These types of comments truly puzzle me and bring me to a couple of questions:

1. Why are you reading erotic romance novels if you don’t want to read about sex? That’s like watching the NFL channel and getting angry that it has too much football.

Sidenote: To the reviewer who didn’t like the woman who pursued sexual satisfaction, aren’t you doing the same thing by reading a sexy novel? What the f*ck?

2. If you thought an author’s book was pure p*rn, then why did you buy the rest of the books in the series? Who’s the dummy? I’m allergic to peanut butter. So, I go out and buy a Snickers bar, eat it, get sick, then complain?

3. If you don’t like the depiction of blow jobs/p*ssy worship….yeah, why are you even reading an erotic romance? There’s a high chance you’ll run into some c*ck-sucking or **gasp** p*ssy-licking if you read enough of them.

Point is, writers write because they love what they write. Readers read because they love what writers write. I am so glad that there is a place where writers can express the sexuality of their characters and appeal to the readers that like the hot stuff. There is no shame in that game. I have a ton of writer colleagues who write stuff that make me blush, but like I always way, chacun son goût…. les yeux sans visage…. voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir …that’s my French for the day.

I’m not even going to call these people haters, because why bother? My advice? Stick to the sweet romances. Avoid any romance that mentions the word “heat” in the blurb. And, if the cover has a couple enjoying a sweet, sexy embrace, stay far, far, FAR away. You don’t want to get bumped in the face with a stray erection.

As I typed this, I found a brilliant way to tie this all in with Football Friday. My fantasy football stud quarterback, Peyton Manning will wrap this up nicely. Let me give you a little history. Peyton has played in a dome – Lucas Oil Stadium (aka the house that Peyton built) for most of his career. When he went to Denver, there was all sorts of talk that he couldn’t play in the cold. For while, that’s been true until this past game with the Titans. With a kickoff temperature of 18 degrees F, Peyton threw for 397 yards with four touchdowns with no interceptions., The Broncos won, 51-28. Furthermore, the 39 completions established a new franchise record.

Now, does the graphic make more sense?