Sunday, October 16, 2011
Daisy Harris Stops by with Studenstein tomorrow!
Miss Daisy Harris stops by tomorrow and well, do you want to win a $25 Barnes and Noble GC? I do, so come back, comment, and you could win!
Want to know more about Daisy?
Birkenstock-wearing glamour girl and mother of two by immaculate conception, Daisy Harris still isn’t sure if she writes erotica. Her paranormal romances start out innocently enough. However, her characters behave like complete sluts. Much to Miss Harris’s dismay, the sex tends to get completely out of hand.
If you like science-y subplots, fantastical creatures, and red-hot chemistry, you’ll love Daisy Harris.
Want to know more about her book, Studenstein?
Studenstein (Book two in the Love-Bots series)
A man built for sex… A woman who wants more…
Freedom fighter Shani Brown is determined to drag the ungrateful Royce back to her team in Seattle. Despite his denial of mistreatment, she wants to give him a chance at a better life. Due to her horrific past as an unlicensed love-bot, Shani never plans to have sex again. But Royce’s makers punish him remotely with crippling pain. His only escape is to orgasm. Never one to turn her back on a job, Shani soon finds herself servicing him—and soon after, caring for him.
Love-bot Royce Harden wasn’t looking to be rescued, especially not from the San Francisco BDSM club where he was having a perfectly good time. But rescued he was—by a hellcat bent on delivering him to her people. As Royce starts to trust Shani, he begins to dream of freedom. But freedom comes with a price. Royce must face his vanity, his makers, and even the loss of his sexual upgrades if he’s going to be the man Shani deserves.
Here's an excerpt to hold you over!
Shaniqua! You stop thinking about that boy’s butt right this second! Shani didn’t know where that voice in her head came from, since she’d never had a mother in her undead life. But yeah, that voice in her head, her “superego” Frank called it, always called her by her full name.
So as she led Royce around the outside of the building, Shani focused on the quiet ticks of birds, the rustle of leaves, anything to take her mind of those little dimples that had shown right below his hipbones, or his deep and intriguing groan. As they walked, Shani calculated their distance from the van. Q-ter’s transmitter would only block Royce’s signal within one city block. The bathrooms weren’t all that far away, but Shani wasn’t accustomed to greenery and open space. Without urban landmarks, she didn’t trust her sense of distance.
His biceps flexed under her grip—not pulling away, but maybe trying to warn her he could. Shani’d touched Royce more in the past few hours than she’d touched any man since her captivity. She wanted to think it was because the assignment demanded she lead him about—gripping his firm upper arm—in case he tried to escape, but that voice in her head knew better.
Shaniqua! Let go of the boy-toy! In the dark, his skin felt warm and hard in her hand. It was a relief when she blinked in the bright halogen lights of the ladies’ room. No matter how pretty or tempting Royce Harden might be, Shani would never be able to stomach having sex again. And almost but not doing would be worse than never having tried at all.