Monday, December 22, 2014

Monday Morning Armchair Quarterback ~ Week Sixteen

We haven't played yet and we're up against the Broncos tonight. Unless there's a miracle, like Manning doesn't play and Good Andy shows up, we might be in trouble. Here's to a miracle!!

To keep us occupied, here are the honorable Mentions from last week: 

"the most explosive player."
He's spouting everywhere.

"they're hoping he can turn into that dominant."
Well, yes. They do pay him well. 

"He's so big and strong."
And handsome. 

"head strain."
After being big and strong, he probably does have a head strain.

Jeepers. Hitting, tackling...and no one got hurt except the guy with the marks. Interesting. 
Now on to those football funnies of the week.

"Took a really big blow."
Kinky.

"They were ready for it that time."
They should've been. 

"Don't give them an easy completion."
Making it hard was so much more fun.

"Look how deep everyone is."
In what? A conga line of sex?

"Three great receivers."
They'd be the ones getting it deep, then. 

"He sold it deep."
Well, he should. He's part of that line.

And now for that Doozy of the Week. I love these. These are so much fun.  

"Let the big man up front take control."
It's a talent.  He's first in line, so he should get to be in control. Someone's gotta know what's going on!


~

Since you're reading this, I'll bring this up. There's a Bengals player whose daughter was diagnosed with cancer. A portion of his jersey sales are being donated to the Cincinnati Children's Hospital to help with cancer research. It's a great cause. I've ordered mine. Want to know more?

Thank you!


Andy Dalton, #14, Quarterback for the Cincinnati Bengals
By Melissa Batson (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0
 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)],

Sunday, December 21, 2014

A Blissemas Snog with Shifter's Challenge


It's the last snog of Blissemas and I've got a present for you! An Ebook copy of my first Christmas story as Megan Slayer, titled Wrapped Around, up for grabs to one lucky commenter. Could that commenter be you? I need your comment, email and name and you're in the hat! International commenters welcome!

Now about my latest Christmas story, Shifter's Challenge!

Shifter’s Challenge (Peppermint Twist) by Megan Slayer  
Changeling Press
Contemporary, Paranormal, Holiday
Short Story
M/M, Anal Sex

Time to see what magic Christmas has in store for Steve, a black cat shifter, and Landon the Elf…

Steve Moore, a black cat shifter, breaks into the North Pole Christmas party in his cat form. Easy enough. No one imagines a black cat would be out of place in a warm building in the middle of the winter. But Steve’s not there to sample the cupcakes or eggnog. No, he’s there to find the one Elf who makes his heart race -- Landon. Is Landon still interested in the shifter? They only spent one night together. Things could fall apart once they find each other again, but Steve’s betting the Elf is craving him, too.
Time to see what magic Christmas has in store.
Available soon :


And now for that snog!
Copyright ©2014 Megan Slayer

 “Oh… That’s against the rules?”
“Big time.” Landon chuckled. “You have no idea.”
“Even for love?” Steve curled his fingers under Landon’s chin, moving the Elf’s gaze. “I’m missing something. Talk to me.”
Landon rubbed his cheek against Steve’s hand. “I missed you, too.” He groaned. “I wanted to call, email or something to find you, but we hadn’t exactly gotten to the point of exchanging so much personal information.”
“I know.” He wished they’d spent some of their time talking, rather than just fucking… but the sex had been worth the hassle.
“I stayed out longer than my pass. I loved every moment of our time together, but I had to go home. Santa’s got special Elves who track us. They found me and brought me home.” Landon stared into Steve’s eyes. “This is nuts. An Elf and a man who shifts into a cat. Our being together shouldn’t work, but it does. But think about it. How was I supposed to explain that to Santa?”
“True.” Most of the humans didn’t even believe Steve could exist -- a man who shifted into a cat. The very idea was crazy. If they found out Elves truly existed… all hell would break loose. Still, he didn’t want to give up on Landon. They’d figure something out.
“I mean, how was I supposed to know if what we had was love? Horny good times? Yeah. Something I wanted to do over and over? You bet your ass. But love? Too soon to tell.” Landon shook his head. “I like finite things. I need to know where I stand and what’s going to happen. With you… everything seems so up in the air.”
At least the crazy, mixed-up feeling was mutual. Steve pulled Landon onto his lap and draped his arms around the Elf. “Then why don’t we see what this is between us and how we can build on it or give it up? I’m all for round two and three. Can’t know who we need unless we stoke this fire a whole lot more.”
* * *
Landon wobbled on Steve’s strong thighs. He’d expected Steve to push him away, not come on to him. Landon’s entire body warmed, and his cock pushed against the velvet of his pants. He rocked forward, rubbing his bulge on the tent hiding behind the robe. Between the plug in his butt and the cock rubbing against his own, his entire body sizzled. Sweet peppermint balls, they felt so good together.
“Damn,” Steve said, drawing the word out. He nibbled Landon’s bottom lip. “Dangerous little Elf.”
“I like it.” Landon groaned. A thought occurred to him. He’d been given a present -- the best ever -- and he wanted to share his happiness. “I owe you a present. Christmas is meant to be shared.” He leaned forward and kissed Steve once more. The taste of Steve’s mouth on his affected him like wine. Tingles shot through his body as he splayed his hands on Steve’s bare chest. He flicked Steve’s nipples, loving the way the slender man moaned because of his touch.
“God, I love that.” Steve swatted Landon’s ass. “Naughty Elf.”




Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Letting Go (Peppermint Twist) by Sara Jay

Letting Go (Peppermint Twist) by Sara Jay  

Changeling Press
Magic, Christmas, Elves
Short Story
F/M
Snow Queen Erika has never been lucky with love. Her powers have made it difficult to find intimacy with anyone safely, so she's written off romance for good. Jack Frost has been after Erika's heart for centuries. This winter, with a little help from a naughty elf, he may just get his Christmas wish.

Available soon :

Excerpt:
 "Do you wanna build a snowman?"
Jack jerked his head in the direction of the gruff Bostonian accent. Twinkle, his favorite Elf and co-mischief maker, casually tossed a fluffy snowball in the air and caught it, quirking an eyebrow at him.
Jack grinned. "Not now, Short Stack. I'm plotting." He used his long, slender staff to make a slender but well-proportioned female figure in the snow.
This time Twinkle's eyebrows shot up under his mop of black hair. "What are we doing today? Closing schools? Messing with Mrs. Claus's ovens? Freezing the pipes in Parliament?" He waggled said eyebrows with anticipation, the last word stretched out like Paaahlahmint.
Shaking his head, Jack pointed his long, gnarled staff at the snow palace beyond the mountains. "Nope. I'm gonna go see her."
Twinkle snorted at the non-inclusive activity, this time hurling a snowball at Jack. "Erika? The Snow Queen? Jack, that ship has sailed. She's only turned you down a million times." Swirling his fingers in the frosty arctic air, he separated another snowball into three and began juggling.
"Bit of a glutton for punishment, aren't you?"
"I like a challenge." Jack snapped his fingers to brush the snow off his face instantly. He grinned, picturing the feisty snow goddess of his dreams. Her impossibly long white hair -- sometimes braided, sometimes coiled around her head like a crown-sparkled brighter than the snow itself. Those violet eyes, so cold, yet fiery at the same time, mirrored the queen's own attitude. That kissable heart-shaped mouth...
Erika was his perfect match. She just didn't know it yet.
"Yeah, and you must like failure, too. Jack, she always sees through your schemes," Twinkle insisted. "Like the time you said you were there to fix a broken terrace."
Shrugging, Jack said, "I was being helpful."
"She threw you off the freakin' roof! And what about the time you dressed up in a suit and tried to bring her flowers?"
Writing "Erika" in the snow with his bare toes, Jack muttered, "It was romantic."
"It was moronic! She saw you coming a mile away and didn't even open the door. The fake blizzard, the ice dinosaur, the poinsettias in snow -- Jack, you've tried hundreds of times and none of them has ever worked." Twinkle's pained expression revealed more compassion than doubt for his friend, but he wore the doubt, too.
Pursing his lips, Jack stared over the mountains at the home of the woman who owned his heart. As children, their friendship had been easy -- effortless, even. Since they grew up to be stewards of the North, Erika refused to have anything to do with him.
"At some point, don't you think you need to give it up, Jack? Find a nice Elf or snow dryad, and move on."
Picturing Erika's violet eyes, her sparkling snowflake laugh, Jack shook his head. "Never. I'll never give up on her."
Twinkle shook his head. "Well, you're persistent. I'll give you that much. But you've got to do something really different if you want her to even talk to you, Jack."
"This time will be different. She won't see me coming." At least, he hoped not.
Twinkle didn't seem to hear him. "Last time she chased you off with a snow beast."
"And if you recall, Ice is now my pet," Jack reminded him, whistling for the creature. The shaggy, white beast bounded around a snowdrift, a lot like a Tibetan Mastiff. Ice just happened to be much bigger. With even more drool.
Ice panted, waiting for his master's command. Jack pointed at the snow and a giant bone crystallized. With a flick of a finger, he sent it soaring over the mountains and smack into the queen's courtyard. "Fetch!"
Ice's bark reverberated off the actual ice and into the vast permafrost, carrying the sound for miles. Snow flew behind him as he bounded toward his new toy, much of it landing on Twinkle. The Elf grunted in disgust, clapping his hands to magically clean off the powder.
"Oops," Jack smirked, pointed once again toward the palace. "Looks like I gotta go get my dog."
Twinkle slapped his forehead. "Oh, brother."

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Monday, December 15, 2014

Blissemas is Coming!

Check out Megan Slayer's post for Blissemas! 


By commenting on Megan's post you get 1 entry into the Blissemas  grand prize for a Kindle Paperwhite stuffed with smut. 
For a list of rules and other Blissemas blogs please check http://blissemas.co.uk .
~~~~~

http://carasutra.co.uk/



Sunday, December 14, 2014

Monday Morning Armchair Quarterback ~ Week Fifteen


This wasn't just a win, it was a blowout. I have a soft spot in my heart for the Browns, but that was terrible. Still, we're in the lead in the division. Can't complain about that. There is always next week and the potential to fall. Let's not think about that. :-)

To keep us occupied, here are the honorable Mentions from last week: 

"This is gonna leave marks."
He did a face plant. I would expect it to.

"One tackle--see what you can hit."
The person being tackled, I would assume. 

"Those big guys up front absorb a lot of blockers."
They should. They're up front. 

"Nice move to get out of it."
He appreciates your sentiment.

Jeepers. Hitting, tackling...and no one got hurt except the guy with the marks. Interesting. 
Now on to those football funnies of the week.

"Hard to outrun."
Maybe he doesn't want to.

"He's got room if he wants to take it."
Good. He's been waiting on that room. 

"Punctures right through the middle."
Probably better than going askew and hurting something.

"Completely turned him loose."
He's the man about town and on the prowl!

"Quick little hitter in the middle."
That's because he got punctured. You'd hit, too, if you were punctured. 

"Wrapped up."
In what? Tape? Rope? Pictures, please!

And now for that Doozy of the Week. I love these. These are so much fun.  

"He rubs people the wrong way."
It's a talent.  


~

Since you're reading this, I'll bring this up. There's a Bengals player whose daughter was diagnosed with cancer. A portion of his jersey sales are being donated to the Cincinnati Children's Hospital to help with cancer research. It's a great cause. I've ordered mine. Want to know more?

Thank you!


Andy Dalton, #14, Quarterback for the Cincinnati Bengals
By Melissa Batson (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0
 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)],

Monday Morning Armchair Quarterback ~ Week Fourteen


So 42-21 wasn't a fun loss. Loss is never fun, but this one...ouch. I have a running joke - will Good Andy or Bad Andy show up? This week, it was Bad Andy. Here's to redeeming himself next week!

Until then...here are the honorable Mentions from last week: 

"Gonna come right down your throat."
Wow. Just wow.

"Tremendous control."
Well, if there's coming down the throat, I'd hope there's good control, too. 

"Gonna shoot right through that gap."
Lots of shooting... man.

"The big back--right through that gap."
Shooting and going through the gaps...

Lots of extensions and missing and passing. Interesting. 
Now on to those football funnies of the week.

"He's beating them inside and out."
And having a great time doing that!

"that big back--your feature guy."
Can we have pictures please? 

"out-winning the physicality of the game."
If he's going to out-win something, then the game is a good thing to out-win.

"look at that hole."
Because?!?!?!

"another stiff arm move."
To do what?

"Floating his balls."
Snicker. This requires pictures!

And now for that Doozy of the Week. I love these. These are so much fun.  

"Don't float your balls."
Why? What's it going to hurt? Grin.  


~

Since you're reading this, I'll bring this up. There's a Bengals player whose daughter was diagnosed with cancer. A portion of his jersey sales are being donated to the Cincinnati Children's Hospital to help with cancer research. It's a great cause. I've ordered mine. Want to know more?

Thank you!


Andy Dalton, #14, Quarterback for the Cincinnati Bengals
By Melissa Batson (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0
 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)],

Thursday, December 4, 2014

Out Now! Her Perfect Lips by Lisa Fox



Her Perfect Lips by Lisa Fox

Book Two of the Midnight Kiss Series, set in the dynamic world of ONE KISS
Blurb: You have to take a risk to live an adventure.
Determined, capable, and primed to rock her first big marketing conference, Stacy Saunders is not about let to anything get in the way of her ambition. It's been a long time since she's been in New Orleans, but she has no use for beads or Bourbon Street. She built a strict itinerary for this trip – one that certainly didn't include running into the gorgeous Tennyson Landry again.
A chance reunion between the former lovers brings old feelings to the surface and the possibility of rekindling old flames. Their second time around could be the best time of all – if they can bridge the gap even wider than the thousand miles between them…

An Excerpt From: HER PERFECT LIPS
Copyright © LISA FOX, 2014
All Rights Reserved, Harper Impulse, a Division of HarperCollins Publishers
Bourbon Street was just as she remembered—loud music and neon lights, frat boys in muscle shirts and girls in crop tops, the stench of beer and pine-scented antiseptic cleaner, the sidewalks littered with garbage and puke. Their little entourage stumbled into the first club they found, which had “Play That Funky Music” blaring from the speakers. Stacy shook her head. Some things truly never changed. Bars on Bourbon Street would play that song until some ultimate, catastrophic apocalypse finally managed to wipe the city out for good.
The barker at the door proudly announced that the club was now offering their world famous three-for-one happy hour. The vodka tonic Stacy ordered was served in a plastic cup the size of which was rarely seen outside of a 7-Eleven. It contained more alcohol than any human should probably ever consume in a single serving, and she was glad to see that in addition to the bad music, the drinking culture had not changed either.
She headed toward the back of the club, outside into the little courtyard area where the music was somewhat blunted and she was less likely to have a drink spilled over her. The others followed, people in the group talking amongst themselves and goggling at the drunken antics on the dance floor. Peter had fallen back to walk alongside Melanie, and they ambled slowly, their heads close together, taking softly. Stacy sighed. So much for the whole reason to participate in this journey. Not that she could blame him. Melanie was gorgeous. Still, the rejection stung. Not that it would’ve worked anyway. The distance between them would have eventually become a hassle.
She sipped her cocktail, watching the dance floor light up red, then blue, then green as the strobe light pulsed over the dancers. Once again, she had a choice and none of her options were all too appealing. She could go back to the hotel and try to find a new group of people to talk with, she could go to bed, or she could stay right where she was and basically drink alone.
“Let’s go someplace quieter,” Peter shouted over the music and everybody agreed.
She followed them back out onto Bourbon Street, seriously considering her next move. Should I stay or should I go now? She let the chorus play out in her head and in that one millisecond pause, a drunken man wearing only jeans shorts and plastic beads lunged at her from the crowd. She sidestepped around him and almost collided with a woman exiting Pat O'Briens. The woman squealed and Stacy veered off the sidewalk into the street. A group of tourists swept her away, forcing her backward along with them. She fought against the wave of bodies, but it was a losing battle. And then, out of nowhere, a hand grabbed her arm, a lifeline in the storm.
The tourists continued on their journey, but Stacy was held in place, firmly anchored by that strong grip. The hold on her arm was a little too familiar for a stranger and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to thank or berate her rescuer. She turned, and her breath caught when she recognized her savior. “Hello, Ten.”
“Hey, Stacy.”
He grinned and every single part of her tingled. He was as attractive as she remembered—tall and strong, with rich, chocolate-brown hair, and a twinkle of mischief in his startling green eyes. The years had changed him only slightly, taking away the softness of youth and adding hard ridges and planes to his handsome face. His hair was a little too long, and he had a two-day beard, but the scruffiness didn’t take away from his almost poetic good looks. And though she would never admit it out loud, just the way his thighs filled out his well-worn blue jeans sent a thread of wicked heat trickling down her spine. Ten was the stuff of all kinds of naughty fantasies, and a few of her favorite ones instantly flashed through her mind.

BUY LINKS:

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Shifting Currents by Lissa Matthews ~ Out Now!

Shifting Currents by Lissa Matthews  



Blurb:
Blake doesn’t want a mate. No way. No how. And he certainly doesn’t want her camping on his land, floating down his stretch of river, or looking like she belongs in his bed. But that's exactly what he gets when he happens upon a curvy woman with shades of sunset hair named Leah.
She's on vacation and isn’t looking for any complications, especially in the form of a shifter or the possessive MINE signal he gives off.
So, what are two bears to do when they've convinced themselves they don't want, much less need anyone else?  They give in to the pull and mate, of course, but in sex only. No life commitment. No cubs. No changing the way they live: Separate and independent of each other.
Except when she leaves his mountain, Blake can't get her off his mind and Leah can't stop craving his particular brand of gruffness. Now, the one thing neither wanted, has come full circle, and is ready to bite them both.

Snippet:
He knew pain and loss, and he didn’t want anything to do with it ever again. A woman would only complicate his uncomplicated life. “I’ll just stay away from her,” he declared to the four walls. “I’ve done a good job of it so far. I can just keep doing so until she leaves the area.”
You could kick her out. She is trespassing.
Blake couldn’t argue with the thought. She was camping on private property. But, he reasoned, she was set up and he wouldn’t make her move. Especially since it would put him in the position of having to talk to her. No, he’d let her stay and hope that she left real soon.
Feeling satisfied with himself and his decision, Blake made for the kitchen and the Mason jar of iced coffee in the fridge. If summers were good for anything, it was iced coffee. He drank it black, undiluted but for a few ice cubes and a slight sweetness.
He stepped onto the deck at the back of the house, and took a deep breath. The heat wasn’t so bad with something cold coating his throat and cooling him from the inside out. But it was still oppressive. He turned to re-enter the cabin, but caught the scent before he could turn his head. She was near. To the northeast and getting closer.
Blake debated with himself. Should he get closer? Should he get a look at her? His body screamed that yes, he should. His brain screamed obscenities at him for even considering it.
Her scent was stronger now. “Man, this is such a bad idea,” he whispered to no one even as he set the jar down and crept off the deck to the forest floor. Lucky for him, for a six foot five guy, he could be surprisingly stealthy.
He wound his way through the brush toward the water, careful to keep out of sight. A stand of trees and low-lying bushes allowed him to stay out of view. He crouched to his knees and waited.
He didn’t have to wait long. Her inner tube rounded the bend in the river several seconds later and Blake had to bite down on his tongue to keep a groan at bay. His soul growled “Mine” and his brain knew they were all goners.


About Lissa:
Born and raised in the South and currently living in North Carolina, talented, multi-published author, Lissa Matthews, has many loves in her life: Family, friends, NASCAR, football, music of all kinds, cooking, and penning stories filled with feisty, sassy heroines and naughty heros, and last, but certainly not least, coffee.
Please visit her Website for the most up to date information on her books and sign up for her Newsletter to be informed of new releases, sales, and special subscriber information.

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Cover Reveal ~ Ship of Dreams by Rebecca Heflin


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. A randomly drawn commenter will receive a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble gift card. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Advertising Diva, Laura Armstrong is after Imperial Cruise Lines, the biggest account of her career and the one that will lead to the next step in her Life Plan of becoming one of the most powerful women in advertising. That winning the account will also prove her father wrong is a bonus.

Sexy Southern Gentleman, Nathan Maxwell, is after that very same account, but for completely different reasons. Landing the account means a sizeable bonus just in time to save his family’s farm, and the only stable home his sister’s ever known, from foreclosure.

When the two end up on the same ship in the middle of the Mediterranean for a clandestine reconnaissance mission, Mt. Vesuvius isn’t the only thing that could erupt.

Will Nathan sink her ship of dreams before it ever leaves port, or will the way to love be smooth sailing?

Enjoy an excerpt:

Nathan sat down at his desk, as his assistant followed him in with phone messages and meeting requests. He'd only been at Hawk Media a week and already had a full schedule. “Mr. McCutcheon would like to see you when you get a moment, and I need you to sign these forms for your corporate credit card.” Cassie placed the stack of messages on the desk and handed him the forms.

“Thanks, Cassie. This credit card can't come soon enough. I need you to book a trip for me. Here's all the information.” Nathan handed her a brochure with the ship circled. He didn't care what itinerary, as long as he got on that ship. He'd already completed the company's travel profile so Cassie would know his preferences. “And I need it booked first thing.”

Cassie took the brochure, lifting a brow. “Is this business or pleasure?”

“Oh, this is business, but who says they're mutually exclusive?” He gave her a wink as he rounded his desk.

The corridors of Hawk Media were hushed, the plush carpeting lending a soft touch to the otherwise glass and brushed chrome ultra-modern office space. The account executives whose offices lined the halls were hard at work, studying spreadsheets, talking on phones, tapping out emails, or meeting with members of their teams. A group stood in front of an oversized digital white board in what served as the agency's idea space, throwing suggestions up on the board. The nimble mid-size company had only been around a little over ten years, but they were making a splash in the ad biz, especially after they'd snatched the Kensington hotel chain right out from under Concept Advertising.

They'd done the same thing with him.

Hawk Media had wooed his biggest account away from him, but while the CEO preferred the New York-based agency's philosophy, he'd told Hawk that Nathan was part of the package. So after almost ten years with the same boutique agency in Atlanta, first as an account coordinator, before working his way up to senior account executive, Hawk had come calling. And Nathan had listened. In the immortal words of Don Corleone, “they'd made him an offer he couldn't refuse.”

Though it broke his heart to leave behind his Buckhead home and the proximity to his sister, the siren song of the Big Apple couldn't be ignored, and the position, Vice President of Business Development, the salary, and the bonuses were too good to pass up. Especially now when he needed the money.

He'd make a name for himself in the big city. Not bad for a boy from the hills of North Georgia who'd once been told he'd never be more than a whore's bastard.

First order of business – get the Imperial Cruise Lines account.

About the Author:
Rebecca Heflin is an award-winning author who has dreamed of writing romantic fiction since she was fifteen and her older sister snuck a copy of Kathleen Woodiwiss' Shanna to her and told her to read it. Rebecca writes women's fiction and contemporary romance. When not passionately pursuing her dream, Rebecca is busy with her day-job as a practicing attorney.

Rebecca is a member of Romance Writers of America (RWA), Florida Romance Writers, RWA Contemporary Romance, and Florida Writers Association. She and her mountain-climbing husband live at sea level in sunny Florida.

Awards:

2014 Florida Writers Association Royal Palm Literary Award Finalist (Dreams of Perfection)
2013 Florida Writers Association Royal Palm Literary Award Winner (Rescuing Lacey)
2013 Colorado Romance Writers Award of Excellence Winner (Rescuing Lacey)
2013 Virginia Romance Writers Holt Medallion Award of Merit (Rescuing Lacey)
2013 Georgia Romance Writers Published Maggie Finalist (Rescuing Lacey)
2013 Shooting Star Award (Rescuing Lacey)
2013 Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence Finalist (Rescuing Lacey)
2013 Wisconsin Romance Writers Write Touch Readers' Awards Finalist (The Promise of Change)
2011 Royal Palm Literary Awards Finalist (The Promise of Change)

http://www.rebeccaheflin.com/
http://www.amazon.com/Rebecca-Heflin/e/B006RBM93C
https://www.facebook.com/RebeccaHeflinBooks
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5400814.Rebecca_Heflin
https://twitter.com/rebeccaheflin

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