FROST!

FROST is out now!

It's another sexy paranormal for Decadent Publishing's 1Night Stand series, the third in the Sleepy Hollow series (and my fourth Sleepy Hollow book)!

An erotic Valentine's Day story, FROST's heroine is Dagney Night, the succubus sister of Lily Night, the heroine from LIGHTNING, the first book in the series.  Don't worry if you haven't read one or another; they all stand alone!

The smoldering hot hero is Maxwell Raines, a talented artist and tall, dark and DEMON!

 

BLURB:

Dagney Night, a sought-after succubus, is no stranger to blazing hot sex. But as Valentine’s Day approaches, she longs for something more. When oddly erotic paintings arrive for display at her art gallery, arousing everyone who views them, she wonders about the mysterious artist who created the works.

Maxwell Raines, a fire-sex demon, lives a life of solitude and seclusion behind the walls of his compound at Sleepy Hollow, channeling his lustful impulses into his art—until his muse deserts him and his temperature rises past the danger point. He needs sex. Now.

When Madame Evangeline arranges a torrid Valentine’s 1Night Stand for them, will the flames of their encounter be too hot to handle?

EXCERPT:

Dagney followed her sister’s glance, and her heart flipped like a gymnast unable to nail a vault. Darkness swathed the gallery with the exception of the lights above or below each of the paintings. The large man emerging from the shadows held her rapt. Waves of pure, unadulterated lust smacked her with such force she didn’t even see Lily and Campbell leave. The blast of raw desire crumpled her to the floor. Her gaze remained riveted on the tall hunk of ferocious male stalking toward her, radiating undiluted carnality. He set something carefully on the floor and grasped her by the elbows, his touch surprisingly gentle when he lifted her to her feet.

“I’m Maxwell Raines.”

Yeah. No kidding. Who else could a guy so hot, so studly, possibly be?

She told herself not to swoon. Ordered herself not to swoon. But, Goddess, that rumbling voice. More potent than a train barreling over the tracks. And he smelled so good. Sinfully masculine. A bit of musk, a bite of pine, an essence of dark, smoky nights. Sexy scents. Reminiscent of tangled satin sheets that had been given a good work-out.

Her legs turned to rubber, and she doubted they’d support her on their own. She’d be mortified if he’d have to scrape her puddled body up again. But he hadn’t yet relaxed his grip. Could she bullshit her way through the meeting without collapsing? “You’re late,” she said.

“I’m never late.”

“Well, the party’s over, Mr. Raines.” She waved a hand around the empty room.

“Depends on your perspective.”

“You’re big on perspective, are you?”

“I’m a painter.” A brief shrug accompanied his blunt words. “Obvious connection.”

“Right. But as you can see, everyone’s left.”

“You haven’t.” He gazed down at her, a black brow flaring. “And you’re what I’m here for.” 

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Six Sentence Sunday - Last Dance

And in the end...the love you take...

is equal to the love...you make.

~ Lennon & McCartney

  

Well, this is it, kids. The end. The very last official Six Sentence Sunday.

My first Six Sunday post was in September of 2010, about a month before my first book, SLEEPY HOLLOW DREAMS, was published by The Wild Rose Press.

There were eight comments that day:  Dee Carney and Lisa Fox were the only Six Sundayers who left comments; everyone else was from my local RWA chapter and had no idea what Six Sentence Sunday was. I didn't have much of an idea myself. I don't think there were more than 20 or so participants back then. In these last months, there have been close to 200 some weeks.

 

My latest book, FROST, also set in Sleepy Hollow, will be released by Decadent Publishing later this week. And I just received a contract last night for BLIZZARD, an erotic short, also from Decadent.

 

So it's been a fun ride. Six Sentence Sunday has been an absolute gas for me. Thank you, Sara Brookes, for the concept, the site, and all your hard work over the years.

 

And thanks to all of you who have stopped by here on Sundays over the years, leaving your wonderful and wonderfully encouraging comments. I live for those! And I appreciate you all more than you will ever know.

I will probably continue to post snippets on Sundays from time to time.

But I leave you -- and Six Sentence Sunday -- with six from FROST.

"But I play with fire, little girl." He stroked her arm again and the sensual burn sizzled across her skin.

She sighed in delight. Hallefreakinglujah.

His upper lip twitched into a crooked smile, and her heart performed a grand jeté worthy of a prima ballerina.

"Heard you liked bad boys," he said.

  

Until we meet again, my Six Sentence Sunday lovelies!



Early FROST

Hey, kids!

FROST's release has been pushed up to February 1!!

That's right, two weeks of sexy romance to get you in the moooooooood for Valentine's Day!

Want a taste?

Blurb:

Dagney Night, a sought-after succubus, is no stranger to blazing hot sex. But as Valentine’s Day approaches, she longs for something more. When oddly erotic paintings arrive for display at her art gallery, arousing everyone who views them, she wonders about the mysterious artist who created the works.

Maxwell Raines, a fire-sex demon, lives a life of solitude and seclusion behind the walls of his compound at Sleepy Hollow, channeling his lustful impulses into his art—until his muse deserts him and his temperature rises past the danger point. He needs sex. Now. 

When Madame Evangeline arranges a torrid Valentine’s 1Night Stand for them, will the flames of their encounter be too hot to handle?

Excerpt:

 

Dagney followed her sister’s glance, and her heart flipped like a gymnast unable to nail a vault. Darkness swathed the gallery with the exception of the lights above or below each of the paintings. The large man emerging from the shadows held her rapt. Waves of pure, unadulterated lust smacked her with such force she didn’t even see Lily and Campbell leave. The blast of raw desire crumpled her to the floor. Her gaze remained riveted on the tall hunk of ferocious male stalking toward her, radiating undiluted carnality. He set something carefully on the floor and grasped her by the elbows, his touch surprisingly gentle when he lifted her to her feet.

"I’m Maxwell Raines."

Yeah. No kidding.

Who else could a guy so hot, so studly, possibly be?

She told herself not to swoon. Ordered herself not to swoon. But, Goddess, that rumbling voice. More potent than a train barreling over the tracks. And he smelled so good. Sinfully masculine. A bit of musk, a bite of pine, an essence of dark, smoky nights. Sexy scents. Reminiscent of tangled satin sheets that had been given a good work-out.

Her legs turned to rubber, and she doubted they’d support her on their own. She’d be mortified if he’d have to scrape her puddled body up again. But he hadn’t yet relaxed his grip. Could she bullshit her way through the meeting without collapsing?

"You’re late," she said.

"I’m never late."

"Well, the party’s over, Mr. Raines." She waved a hand around the empty room.

"Depends on your perspective."

"You’re big on perspective, are you?"

"I’m a painter." A brief shrug accompanied his blunt words. "Obvious connection."

"Right. But as you can see, everyone’s left."

"You haven’t." He gazed down at her, a black brow flaring. "And you’re what I’m here for."

Six Sentence Sunday - 01/20/13

This will be the second to last Six Sentence Sunday post. Sad to see it go. Found some new-to-me authors on the list and it's been a fun exercise, helping me to sharpen my own writing (and sometimes to creatively edit) to manage to fit the important stuff into six sentences.

On a few occasions, even works I'd already submitted came under the axe and, during the final editing phases, were streamlined further in the finished book. (You can go back and look, if you like, but I'm not pointing out the way!)

Today's second to last six, and perhaps next week's also, are from FROST, my 1Night Stand story from Decadent Publishing, releasing on February 12 in time for Valentine's Day.


How many times before had he been through this?
Suffered through just such a female reaction to his overpowering sexuality? She tried to steel herself, to toughen up, to call upon her inner smartass. But he made it difficult. Dressed all in black, from T-shirt to jeans, he seemed to fill the room, his dominating presence swamping even his most compelling paintings. Thick bands of taut muscle rippled beneath the tight cotton and snug denim. He needed only the leather biker jacket to complete the bad boy image.

Blurb:

Dagney Night, a sought-after succubus, is no stranger to blazing hot sex. But as Valentine’s Day approaches, she longs for something more. When oddly erotic paintings arrive for display at her art gallery, arousing everyone who views them, she wonders about the mysterious artist who created the works. 

Maxwell Raines, a fire-sex demon, lives a life of solitude and seclusion behind the walls of his compound at Sleepy Hollow, channeling his lustful impulses into his art—until his muse deserts him and his temperature rises past the danger point. He needs sex. Now. 

When Madame Evangeline arranges a torrid Valentine’s 1Night Stand for them, will the flames of their encounter be too hot to handle?

Excerpt:

Dagney followed her sister’s glance, and her heart flipped like a gymnast unable to nail a vault. Darkness swathed the gallery with the exception of the lights above or below each of the paintings. The large man emerging from the shadows held her rapt. Waves of pure, unadulterated lust smacked her with such force she didn’t even see Lily and Campbell leave. The blast of raw desire crumpled her to the floor. Her gaze remained riveted on the tall hunk of ferocious male stalking toward her, radiating undiluted carnality. He set something carefully on the floor and grasped her by the elbows, his touch surprisingly gentle when he lifted her to her feet.

"I’m Maxwell Raines."  
Yeah. No kidding.Who else could a guy so hot, so studly, possibly be?

She told herself not to swoon. Ordered herself not to swoon. But, Goddess, that rumbling voice. More potent than a train barreling over the tracks. And he smelled so good. Sinfully masculine. A bit of musk, a bite of pine, an essence of dark, smoky nights. Sexy scents. Reminiscent of tangled satin sheets that had been given a good work-out.

Her legs turned to rubber, and she doubted they’d support her on their own. She’d be mortified if he’d have to scrape her puddled body up again. But he hadn’t yet relaxed his grip. Could she bullshit her way through the meeting without collapsing?

"You’re late," she said.

"I’m never late."

"Well, the party’s over, Mr. Raines." She waved a hand around the empty room.

"Depends on your perspective."

"You’re big on perspective, are you?"

"I’m a painter." A brief shrug accompanied his blunt words. "Obvious connection."

"Right. But as you can see, everyone’s left."

"You haven’t." He gazed down at her, a black brow flaring. "And you’re what I’m here for


And check out the other Six Sentence Sunday authors at http://sixsunday.com

FROST sneak peek

Here's the official blurb and excerpt  from FROST, my third 1Night Stand story (Sleepy Hollow Book 3) coming February 12, 2013 from Decadent Publishing.

Enjoy!

BLURB:

 

Dagney Night, a sought-after succubus, is no stranger to blazing hot sex. But as Valentine’s Day approaches, she longs for something more. When oddly erotic paintings arrive for display at her art gallery, arousing everyone who views them, she wonders about the mysterious artist who created the works.

Maxwell Raines, a fire-sex demon, lives a life of solitude and seclusion behind the walls of his compound at Sleepy Hollow, channeling his lustful impulses into his art—until his muse deserts him and his temperature rises past the danger point. He needs sex. Now. 

When Madame Evangeline arranges a torrid Valentine’s 1Night Stand for them, will the flames of their encounter be too hot to handle?

EXCERPT:

Dagney followed her sister’s glance, and her heart flipped like a gymnast unable to nail a vault. Darkness swathed the gallery with the exception of the lights above or below each of the paintings. The large man emerging from the shadows held her rapt. Waves of pure, unadulterated lust smacked her with such force she didn’t even see Lily and Campbell leave. The blast of raw desire crumpled her to the floor. Her gaze remained riveted on the tall hunk of ferocious male stalking toward her, radiating undiluted carnality. He set something carefully on the floor and grasped her by the elbows, his touch surprisingly gentle when he lifted her to her feet. “I’m Maxwell Raines.” Yeah. No kidding. Who else could a guy so hot, so studly, possibly be? She told herself not to swoon. Ordered herself not to swoon. But, Goddess, that rumbling voice. More potent than a train barreling over the tracks. And he smelled so good. Sinfully masculine. A bit of musk, a bite of pine, an essence of dark, smoky nights. Sexy scents. Reminiscent of tangled satin sheets that had been given a good work-out. Her legs turned to rubber, and she doubted they’d support her on their own. She’d be mortified if he’d have to scrape her puddled body up again. But he hadn’t yet relaxed his grip. Could she bullshit her way through the meeting without collapsing? “You’re late,” she said. “I’m never late.” “Well, the party’s over, Mr. Raines.” She waved a hand around the empty room. “Depends on your perspective.” “You’re big on perspective, are you?” “I’m a painter.” A brief shrug accompanied his blunt words. “Obvious connection.” “Right. But as you can see, everyone’s left.” “You haven’t.” He gazed down at her, a black brow flaring. “And you’re what I’m here for.”

 

Hump Day Hook!

Okay, because Six Sentence Sunday may not be quite enough...I'm trying out another snippet list. This one is called Hump Day Hook. Participants post paragraphs on Wednesdays.

So here's a paragraph from THUNDER, a 1Night Stand story from Decadent Publishing.

 

 

          The thuds from upstairs sent a shudder through her, and she glanced down at the protective circle of salt she’d cast to form an energy boundary on the buffed, patterned parquet wood floor in the master bedroom. Didn’t seem like the thing was doing much good. But who the heck knew if she’d even drawn it right. She wasn’t a very good witch.

 To read more HDH posts by other authors, visit the HDH group on Facebook or find the list of authors here.

Six Sentence Sunday 1/13/13 - Taryn's Birthday Edition



Another year down, another year older. (Which, as anyone will tell you, beats the alternative.)

And another six from FROST, releasing from Decadent Publishing February 12, in time for Valentine's Day.

Max Raines is one of my hottest heroes ever.  Literally and figuratively.

 

Without warning, he swept her into his arms as if she weighed no more than dandelion fluff, a sturdy arm braced behind her knees. His strength, the way he’d so neatly seized control, nearly made her swoon again. His size dwarfed her. She curled her hand against his neck, sifting her fingers into the black hair at his nape, as she’d been longing to do from the moment he entered the gallery. The inky locks were deceptively soft. Unlike the otherwise hard-as-marble male.

 

 

Birthday surprise: If I get more than 25 comments today, I'll give a random commenter a copy of SLEEPY HOLLOW DREAMS or HEALING HEARTS!

 

And don't forget to visit other Six Sentence Sunday authors at http://sixsunday.com.

Six Sentence Sunday 1-6-2013

FROST my third sexy paranormal 1Night Stand for Decadent Publishing is scheduled to release February 12, 2013, just before Valentine's Day. I'm thrilled, since it's a Valentine!

Here are six:

 Julian met her at the door and shoved a steaming latte into her hand. “You’re gonna need this.”

“Does it have tequila in it?”

“It’s 9:30 in the morning. Red eye shot.”

“Yeah, but I may require more fortification to deal with Julian Graves in full-tilt Barney Fife mode and whatever calamity has put him there.”

 

Thanks for stopping by! Visit other Six Sentence Sunday participants at

http://sixsunday.com