Guest Blog at The Egde

The Edge: Things That Go Bump and Grind in the Night: Buy Eternally Yours HERE By Kelli Scott Show of hands. Who’s afraid of the dark? Who’s afraid to raise their hand? Monsters lurk...

BITE ME

I know I just had a book come out last week, but...well...I have another one this week. Eternally Yours, my take on vampires...if you're into that sort of thing.

 

 

BLURB

Years after Luke’s sweetheart was ripped from his arms on prom night, Meri’s loss still haunts him. Searching for her everywhere, he finds her only in his dreams and on the pages of a dark comic book he created in her image. But on the anniversary of her disappearance, she shows up on his doorstep without having aged a day. What can he do but invite her in?

Meri’s nights are all about surviving alone on the dark, seedy side of life. Once a year she treats herself to a night of tasty passion with her one true love. Is this the year to seal the deal and make their love eternal, or will she walk away to become just another fantasy?

 

EXCERPT

 

A chill ran the length of his spine in spite of the warm air swirling around him. The dark, grainy picture looked overexposed where other areas seemed underexposed. But the resemblance to Meri appeared unmistakable. Her translucent skin against the dark background leapt off the screen. Her eerie red eyes, caused by a flash photo at night, haunted him, preying on what little hope remained after year upon year of heartache and disappointment. Touching the screen, he traced her features with his index finger.

Gooseflesh rose on his arms seconds before the doorbell sounded. The buzz jolted him to his senses. Anyone who knew him—really knew him—would leave him alone tonight.

Crossing the room, he opened the door, preparing to give someone a piece of his mind. Freezing instead, his extremities tingled but everything else numbed. Including his brain. Especially his mouth.

“Invite me in before you faint.”

“Meri?” Her whispered name on his lips barely registered due to his pounding heart.

“Luke.” Her tone mocked him. She peeked around the door and held out a bouquet of blood red roses like the ones he’d given her for Valentine’s Day way back in the day. “I guess we know who we both are.” Her eyebrows arched up. “Invite. Me.In.”

“I….” Teetering on wobbly legs, he staggered backward a few steps. Spots danced in his peripheral vision and a flash of heat swept through his trembling body.

“Don’t you dare pass out, Luke.” Her blurry finger waved as blackness closed in. “Invite me in, damn it! Can I come in, please?”

“Yes.”

“That’ll have to do.”

Amazon

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Smashwords


Guilty Pleasures!

I'm over at Guilty Pleasures talking about the holiday, sharing a recipe and giving a book away. Stop on by.

Blind Passion - All Romance Ebooks

Blind Passion - All Romance Ebooks

Candy Cane Kink bloghop winner!!!!

I used a very high-tech procedure to pick my winner. I pulled an email address from a beer stein (empty of beer). And the winner of an ecopy of Holiday Hangover is.....Shadow. I have emailed my winner and awaiting a reply. Thanks to everyone who stopped by and especially those who left a comment.

Love is Blind

I'm so excited! And I just can't hide it! It's release day. I love release day.

 

 

Love the cover. Love the hero and the heroine and the story. What's not to love? Check out the blurb.

Blind Passion

Nicole Adkins’ silly crush on her neighbor is slowly starting to resemble an obsession. After months of watching him from afar, she’s resorted to orchestrating accidental elevator encounters and bumbling through rehearsed conversations that go terribly wrong.

Salvatore Lopez is legally blind. To him, Nicki is a pleasant-smelling, sexy-sounding blur in a rotating rainbow of different-colored clothes. He’s intrigued, but fears he’s nothing more to her than a charity case.

But Sal’s blindness means Nicki can watch him risk-free from her apartment and fantasize about sensual encounters. Most of all, she can pretend he’s watching from his apartment as she pleasures herself. He’s the perfect man to indulge all her dark fantasies. If he regains his sight, it could be the beginning of a beautiful romance—or the end.

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

 

 

Review This!

Another review, this one for Costume Ball from Sensual Reads.

 

"Quick read but packs a punch. I sympathized with Jennifer, she is head over heels in love Gage but believes he will reject her once he sees her face. I enjoyed that she struggled with doing what she wanted and doing what she believes is right, Gage however is pure alpha and has his own ideas of how to resolve the dilemma she is faced with. Excellent read."

RomFan Reviews: Review: Holiday Hangover by Kelli Scott

RomFan Reviews: Review: Holiday Hangover by Kelli Scott: Holiday Hangover by: Kelli Scott ISBN#9781419942792 $2.49 ebook Ellora's Cave Contemporary Erotica Released: November 2012 Most of Ja...

So excited about the reviews I'm getting for Holiday Hangover!!!! I love writing in first person POV and happy readers and reviewers are loving it.

Candy Cane Kink Giveaway Hop!

Welcome to the next stop on the Candy Cane Kink Giveaway Hop!  I'm Kelli. I write smexy stories for Ellora's Cave and Decadent Publishing. Poke around and get to know me.

 

 

 

 

I'm giving away an ecopy of my kinky Christmas story, Holiday Hangover to one lucky random commenter. Here is the naughty blurb:

All work and no play has left Jane a very dull girl indeed. When she’s not working her day job, she’s spending any free time toiling for the benefit of her neighbors as the president of her condo association. At the annual holiday party, her Secret Santa gives her a basket full of naughty sex toys, someone’s inappropriate joke at her expense. Next thing Jane knows, she’s waking up in a strange bed with very little memory of the night before.

Sprawled across red satin sheets with a pounding headache and throbbing private parts, Jane struggles to recall whose bed she’s in before her new bed buddy finishes showering. Bits and pieces of memory come back to her, but the recollections don’t comfort, only confound her. It seems she’s going to have a merrier Christmas than she was anticipating.

 

Please tell me your favorite-decadent-once-a-year-to-die-for holiday treat (can be food, drink or activity), and don't forget to leave me your email address. Please share the love and check out the other kinky blogs. Have fun hopping.

Day 3

Day 3 of the Rub Me The Right Way blog tour is Sweet n' Sassi for a book review. Check it out.

 

Enter to win a free e-copy of Rub Me The Right Way while you're there.

5 STARS!!!!

Sizzling Hot Books Reviews!

"What do you get when you combine a secret, sexy, Spanish Santa and a girl who has no idea how to have fun? Fun ... lots and lots of fur lined, handcuff laced fun. Holiday Hangover by Kelli Scott may have been short ... but oh my God, was it hot! Wow!"

Thank you Heather!

Day 2

Day 2 on the Rub Me The Right Way blog tour is Rachel Leighs Erotic Romance blog.

Day 1

Day one of the Rub Me The Right Way blog tour. I'm two places at one time, being reviewed at Harlie Williams blog and Sinful Reads. Exhausting, I know.

Stop on by to enter a drawing for a copy of Rub Me The Right Way.

Goodreads Giveaway!

During the month of December on Goodreads, I'm offering a free print copy of Wedded Bliss, which has my debut novella, Stormy Wedding in it :) Check it out. Enter to win. U.S. only :(

The Virgin Tour

I'm doing my first ever blog tour (CBLS Promotions), courtesy of Decadent Publishing. Have I mentioned that they rock?

 

Oh, sure I've blogged at various sites about new releases, done interviews and posted blurbs and excerpts in cyberland. I've blogged here at Lip Service about the latest Kelli Scott news. I've never done an actual blog tour, but I'll try anything once (unless it's dangerous, stupid or really hard).

 

 

I will do my best to keep you all informed of my whereabouts between December 10th-14th as I promote my hot short story, Rub Me the Right Way.

Holiday Hangover - All Romance Ebooks

Holiday Hangover - All Romance Ebooks

Here Comes Santa Claus!

TODAY! Wednesday, November 21st it will be time to break out your holiday cheer.

Holiday Hangover! Be naughty. Be very very naughty.

Military Bloghop winner!

Congrats to Eva!

 

And thanks to everyone who stopped by. Double thanks for those who left a comment.

Men of the Military Bloghop and Giveaway

Men in uniform are HOT! I love a well-disciplined man who takes orders and calls me ma'am. They have hard bodies and a soft spot in their hearts for those in need. Yep, that's my military man. That's Gage, my Marine hero in Costume Ball. He's a loyal soldier, good friend, devoted lover with a keen attention to the ins and outs of the mission. What is it you love most about a military man?

 

I'm giving away an ebook copy of Costume Ball to one random commenter. Be sure to leave your email address to enter. If you've already read Costume Ball, I'll give you a copy of one of my other backlisted stories. Winner will be announced after November 15th.

 

Don't forget to check out the other great books, blogs and giveaways on the Men of the Military Hop.

BLURB:

Jennifer Goodwin is recovering from a traumatic car accident that’s left her scarred, inside and out. Her sexy Marine pen pal haunts her dreams and has her heart racing, but she’s dumped him anyway, afraid of his pity. A costume ball gives her the chance to come out of her shell while hiding her face, and the hot sailor who approaches her tempts her to indulge in a night of forbidden passion.
 
Gage Brewer is on a mission, despite being on leave from the Marines. He’s determined to confront the woman who befriended him while he was deployed and find out why she left him. Once he’s claimed her body, maybe he can win back her heart.

Show More

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Never Gets Old

My first erotic story was published in January of 2011. Stormy Wedding has gone on to win awards and get great reviews. But it's not over yet. Romance After Dark has just reviewed Stormy Wedding and liked it. Check it out.

And the reviewer has a certain flair of her own when it comes to writing. "The point of this novella is not developing meaningful characters or asking big questions of life. The point is SEX, and Stormy Wedding delivers. Kelli Scott writes some steamy sex scenes, and when Rory and Rachel rock the headboard, they do it with great passion."

And she thinks my writing is HOT. "The sex is fairly standard fare – no BDSM or anal, although both are somewhat addressed – but there is a lot of oral. A LOT. Not that I’m complaining, because it’s HOT oral sex. All of the sex here is hot."

If you haven't read Stormy Wedding and you prefer to read print books, you can now purchase Wedded Bliss, an anthology of Branded line stories from several Ellora's Cave authors.

Spreading Holiday Cheer!

Available for preorder at Amazon and Barnes and Noble - Holiday Hangover!

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site. An Excerpt From: HOLIDAY HANGOVER Copyright © KELLI SCOTT, 2012 All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc. I’m dying. Not peacefully in my sleep. No, I’m dying one of those slow, painful deaths you dread more than mimes, clowns or public speaking. Dying in one’s sleep is a better way to go. And dying in bed is not the same as dying in your sleep. Feeling around, my eyes fused shut, I’m sure I am in bed. Not my bed. My bed is like a heavenly cloud of crisp, clean linen. This bed—the one I’m dying in—is more like a comfortable, cozy slab of stone. Cozy because the vacant side of the mattress beneath my fingers is still warm from a body. I’m not dying of a case of slab-of-warm-cozy-stone, either. I fear the painful piercing in my brain will be the death of me. Opening even one eye will surely be the nail in my coffin. I hear running water. A shower, so I’m not alone. After all, no one wants to die alone. I could use a shower before I die, or at the very least a swish and gargle from the sink to wash away the fuzziness coating my mouth. Maybe a warm, wet compress for between my aching legs, where I swear a runaway freight train must have blown through. The splatter of flowing water I hear is a pleasant accompaniment to the off-key humming of Here Comes Santa Claus. Baritone. A man. I hope it’s someone I know, then on second thought pray for a stranger I’ll never see again. I breathe in the woodsy male scent around me but I’ve never had any luck putting names to smells. And still no luck opening my eyes or scaring up a little spit to swallow the nasty taste in my mouth. Think, Jane—what’s the last thing you remember? A party. That’s a start. Our annual Seacliff Condo Association holiday party, to be exact. The Seacliff Condos aren’t by the sea, nor on a cliff. Sometimes when the breeze blows our way the residents catch a whiff of the nearby ocean. That’s something. The Cliff, as we call it, is very nice. Upscale. But not on the water. If it was, I couldn’t afford living there. The recreation room, which boasts an enormous television for Monday Night Football gatherings or movie night, was decked out in an array of holiday décor, representing Hanukah, Kwanza and Christmas in an effort to mollify all residents and their religion of choice. As the president of the condo association, that’s my job—to mollify. And delegate. I had zero to do with entertainment, decorations or refreshments, being deficient at all three. That would be Trisha Delgado from the third floor, a younger, sassier version of Martha Stewart, if Martha wore sequined tube tops and hot pants in winter. Trisha runs a small daycare out of her unit. I turn a blind eye to her home-based business venture on account of her being easily delegated to do my dirty work. In other words, I rely on her. She is my eyes and ears at The Cliff during the day while I work my day job in the billing department of a prominent orthopedic surgeon. Trisha secretly sends me texts if there are any rumblings about potential uprisings due to our long list of rules and regulations. She keeps me updated on unauthorized roommates, illegal parking and unsanctioned activity of any kind. Not that I’m a killjoy or anything. Trisha probably knows whose bed I’m in. The way she gossips, everyone knows but me. The news will get back to me eventually if I don’t figure out for myself who I’ve boinked. Boinking where you live is simply a bad idea. “Relax,” Trisha said to me at the party last night. “Have a drink. Loosen up. Get in the holiday spirit.” Holding up a wall with my backside, I sipped at a cup of coffee while I watched everyone else at the holiday gathering get sloshed. “I don’t do that sort of thing.” Anymore. She screwed up her face at me. “Which thing don’t you do?” “Any of them.” “Have. Some. Fun,” Trisha said, patting me on the back. A pat to emphasize each word of bad advice. “One little drink won’t hurt.” That was when I decided Trisha was in league with the devil. I should have walked away. “True.” I nibbled on a frosted Santa sugar cookie until I’d munched away his privates. “But have you ever heard that song Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off?” “I love that song.” “I’m fairly certain someone wrote those lyrics about me.”

Christmas Cover!

Holiday Hangover is available for preorder at Amazon and Barnes and Noble. And I now have a cover. Behold!

Blurb:
All work and no play has left Jane a very dull girl indeed. When she’s not working her day job, she’s spending any free time toiling for the benefit of her neighbors as the president of her condo association. At the annual holiday party, her Secret Santa gives her a basket full of naughty sex toys, someone’s inappropriate joke at her expense. Next thing Jane knows, she’s waking up in a strange bed with very little memory of the night before.

Sprawled across red satin sheets with a pounding headache and throbbing private parts, Jane struggles to recall whose bed she’s in before her new bed buddy finishes showering. Bits and pieces of memory come back to her, but the recollections don’t comfort, only confound her. It seems she’s going to have a merrier Christmas than she was anticipating.

4 HEARTS

My first review for Costume Ball from Sizzling Hot Book Reviews.

"Costume Ball was an enchanting story that had me hooked from the start. Kelli Scott shows how sometimes it is a person’s character you truly fall for not there appearance."

Thank you, Kriss Ann. She had some really nice things to say.

The Edge: Quick and Dirty

The Edge: Quick and Dirty: Buy Rub Me the Right Way HERE! by Kelli Scott You probably don’t know me, but I’m a hopeless romantic. On paper anyhow. I ...

Rub Me the Right Way - All Romance Ebooks

Rub Me the Right Way - All Romance Ebooks

Interview: Kelli Scott & Hair of the Dog

Interview: Kelli Scott & Hair of the Dog (with GA) - Pocket After Dark Blog post - An online community for romance and urban fantasy readers

Blurb! Cover! Excerpt!

Rub Me The Right Way. Release date: 10/16/2012

Blurb!

Heather Bowen is an uptight, stressed out insomniac in desperate need of a massage or a shrink or an orgasm to cure what ails her.  

On doctor’s orders, she starts with a massage to work out her knotty/naughty kinks. At the hands of a talented massage therapist, Heather gets a full body rub down. And more. Next stop—a psychiatrist to get at the root of her anxiety and sleeplessness. But is she ready for Dr. Simon’s controversial treatment?

What begins as prescribed therapy becomes a wild fantasy ride of erotic discovery that makes Heather question her sexual orientation along with everything she believed about her carnal desires.

 

Cover!

 

Excerpt!

 

“You all ready, Heather?” Tasha called out, probably worried about how long it took me to get undressed. I shoved the drape of the dressing room aside. “Absolutely.” She led me to the room across the hall as if through a slow motion dream. She was that graceful and lithe and willowy. Tranquil sounds filled the space. Waves lapping at a sandy beach. She patted the massage table. “Up or down?” “Excuse me?” I didn’t know there’d be a quiz. Perusing the clipboard, she asked, “First massage?” “That’s right.” Then couldn’t help but add, “I’m a massage virgin.” “Well, we’ll see what we can do to remedy that.” She smiled, not taking my comment offensively, unless she was a really good actress. “Would you like to start face up or down?” “What do you recommend?” I stopped myself from repeating the virgin reference. She skimmed the clipboard again. “Lower back pain. Tense, knotted muscles. Insomnia. Headaches. Stress. Let’s start face down.” Looking up from my long list of afflictions, she asked, “Would you like me to step out while you disrobe?” Would that be rude? “Of course not.” I scoffed. “We’re both women, right?” Tasha turned her back, preparing her oils or instruments or whatever. With her attention elsewhere, I slipped out of the robe, hung it on a peg, and hopped on the table quick like The Flash, hauling the sheet over my nakedness, which I still wasn’t sure was appropriate. Oh, well, what the hell? She’d just have to deal with it. I planted my face in the face donut and waited. The acoustics transitioned into raindrops on a tin roof. Occasionally a clap of friendly thunder rumbled in the distance to mix things up. She positioned me like a rag doll, placing my arms at my sides on the outside of the sheet. “Comfortable?” she asked. “Yes,” I mumbled. I fixated on her delicate bare feet, her toenails painted a fuchsia color. The fringe of her sarong nearly tickled the floor as she gracefully glided around. A silver chain encircled her ankle. How I wished I could be more like her. Free-spirited. Serene. Bohemian. “Be sure to tell me if I rub too hard.” She rested her palms on my skin, and I tensed. “Okay.” “Relax, Heather.” “I am,” I protested.

 

 

 

Paranormal Cravings

I'm over at Paranormal Cravings being interviewed about my book Hair of the Dog. Enter to win an ecopy.

Sex & Marriage

It's coming here. Wedded Bliss!

Subjugated by Jaid Black

Shannon Smith thinks her marriage to the intense, brooding Hani bin Nasser is one of convenience, but her mysterious Saudi husband has other plans.

Getting Naughty by Kristin Daniels

Tara North is tired of her husband’s workaholic tendencies, tired of not being a priority. And very tired of the lack of action in their bedroom. So she sits in the company parking lot, impatiently waiting for his coworkers to vacate the building. Why? To seduce her husband, of course.

Tara’s going to get their sex life back on the fast track to Blissville. As she strips for him, Tara issues a challenge—how many times can Jared make her come before the cleaning crew reaches his office?

There’s only one way to find out. It’s time for Jared to really get to work.

Stormy Wedding by Kelli Scott

Rachel McAllister tried to dissuade Rory Callahan’s interest, she’d been hurt by love too many times before, but Rory had been as relentless as a dog after a bone. She gave in, but made one thing perfectly clear from the start—no sex until she said, “I do.” If Rachel knew one thing about men, it was that you gave them what they wanted—sex—and they’d be out the door before the sun came up. Rory has passed all her tests and jumped through her hoops to prove his love. They’re ready to say, “I do”, and Rachel’s ready to erase any of Rory’s lingering regrets about waiting to have sex.

Rory fell head over heels for Rachel at first sight. Getting her to date him was another matter altogether. He’d followed all her rules and has barely complained about her strict moral code. Now he’s going to marry her for better or worse. He’s about to find out his goody-two-shoes bride-to-be is a fiery vixen who’s too hot to handle.

Going All In by Sky Robinson

When Colin Fredrickson runs into the girl he loved and lost ten years ago, he knows he has to have her back. She says she won’t have sex until after marriage. So Colin does the only thing that will get Liberty in his bed and back in his life for good—he goes all in.

Liberty James is in Vegas for a bachelorette party when she runs into her high school flame in the casino bar. She had never stopped loving Colin, and now he proposes marriage to show her just how serious he is. Her body burns for Colin and she says yes to a quickie Vegas marriage. Things turn especially hot when it’s time to consummate the marriage—can they even wait until they get back to the honeymoon suite?

Down to business by Dena Garson

Leigh and John Templeton have plans for the upcoming weekend. Unfortunately, looming deadlines may prevent John from being able to get away. In particular, one very long and dull contract review.

When Leigh delivers dinner to John at his office, she makes him a deal to spice up the contract review process—for every page he completes, she’ll remove an item of clothing…until she’s naked and waiting for him to claim his reward.

 

Costume Ball - All Romance Ebooks

Costume Ball - All Romance Ebooks

Squee and Release!

Today is the release for Costume Ball!

 

Another baby has left the nest.

COVER REVEAL

I don't know when Blind Passion will be released but I have the cover to console me until I find out. And now you do too!

 

Yes, my hero is hot and Latin.

Me and Magic Mike

Let me start at the beginning. Flashback to my 21^st birthday. Some friends were going to take me out to an all-male dance revue for the big day, but I got sick. Really sick. Too sick to try and look pretty. Too sick to let naked men snatch dollar bills from between my teeth or boobs.

It wasn’t until years later I got the opportunity to witness a Chippendale-esque (it’s my blog and I can make up words and butcher the spelling of those words) show. I had mixed feelings about attending the performance because I have mixed feelings about female strippers being objectified and disrespected by wolf-whistling guys denigrating them by tossing dollar bills. But I thought the show would be good inspiration or experience for my writing. I hung way in the back and found the spectacle to be amusing, if not inspiring.

Flash forward to Magic Mike. I went to see it with a girlfriend, the way it was meant to be seen. I’m not a huge Channing Tatum fan. I did enjoy watching the dancing and could have stood to see more (had a disagreement with a co-worker about whether he had a dance double). I liked his sense of humor. I wasn’t into The Kid, as they called him or any of the other male dancers except Big Dick Richie. I love Joe Manganiello of Trueblood fame. And I developed a girl crush on Olivia Munn (The Newsroom). She is so pretty, smart, funny and she had amazing chemistry with Tatum. Why she wasn’t the lead female character is a mystery. The part of Joanna was actually meatier, but should not have outshone Brooke, the female love interest (played by Cody Horn, whoever she is) of Tatum. But Olivia Munn did shine bright, stealing the spotlight just like she steals every scene on The Newsroom.

In the end, I was a little disappointed. Better stripping movies might be Dancing at the Blue Iguana, The Full Monty and Flashdance. What do you think? About Channing doing his own dancing, about Olivia being the female lead, anything about Joe?

Nine Naughty Novelists: Guest Blogger Kelli Scott - Reality Check

Nine Naughty Novelists: Guest Blogger Kelli Scott - Reality Check: I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know when I say my biggest sex organ is my big fat brain. I’m willing to bet yours is too...Come on over and read the entire blog. Leave me a comment.

A Taste to Wet Your...Er...Appetite

And the release date is *drum roll, please* September 28. Here's an excerpt.

Jennifer sat at the vanity in front of the mirror and skimmed her fingers along the length of the raised scar on her cheek. For a second she was transported from her hotel room, back in time to a dark night and a rain-slicked road. The metallic taste of blood, the smell of smoke and gasoline and fear flooded her senses as if the accident had happened minutes ago instead of months before. She felt the warm, thick blood drip into her eyes, blurring the chaos around her, the same as she had felt it that night. Tires squealed and people screamed. Sirens echoed in her mind, too far away to offer any comfort whatsoever. Coming to her senses, she whispered, “I can’t do it.” Jennifer snatched her hand away from the ghastly scar as if the gash burned her fingertips. The long curl of dark hair flopped back into place to hide the jagged mar across her otherwise perfect features. “I can’t go through with it.” “You can,” said her sister Marlene, the practical and rational voice of reason. “And you will.” She also leaned toward being bossy. Taking after their father’s side of the family tree, Marlene had come to grips with her plain appearance long ago, actually embracing her ordinary looks. Instead of dabbling in the finer points of makeup application like Jennifer, Marlene focused on her education and interpersonal skills, sort of how a blind man develops a heightened sense of smell and hearing. Not that their father wasn’t an attractive man. The handsome features and large bone structure simply didn’t translate as well on the face and body of a woman. What Marlene lacked in striking beauty she made up for by being chatty and opinionated and amusing. Also like Dad. Jennifer took after their mother, a beauty icon in their circle of friends. Fashion forward. A lover of fine footwear and trendy eateries. Jennifer was like the Macgyver of accessorizing. Give her a couple of hair pins, a silk scarf and a skinny belt and she’d give you glamour. Finger-combing the curl of hair for maximum coverage, Jennifer asked, “What if people are horrified?” “Then they’re dirt bags who aren’t worth your time or a second thought,” Marlene replied with a wave of her hand. Jennifer snorted a laugh. Easy for you to say. Jennifer’s fingers glided over the embossed invitation to the Forty-seventh Annual Volunteer Appreciation Masquerade Ball. A yearly excuse for adults to dress in costume, drink to excess and pat each other on the back for their charitable endeavors. She’d been attending all her adult life. Her mother too. Her Grandmother before that. Goodwin gals came from a long line of volunteers. Each year the celebration grew bigger, the decorations more elaborate, the invitations more expensive. Why was a pressed invitation with gilded lettering a beautiful thing and her raised scar triggered double-takes and gasps? It wasn’t fair. On a man a scar added character. Intrigue. Danger. On a woman, it overshadowed all else. “I can’t take one more sympathetic comment or pitying look,” Jennifer said, her voice cracking with emotion. Suck it up. Be strong. “I dare anyone to be so stupid,” Marlene said. “My advice, Jenny—forget about the scar. If you do, everyone else will. Swear to God, I don’t even notice it anymore. Focus on having fun. If it makes it easier, leave the mask on. Get hammered. Be mysterious. Flirt with every hot guy. Get laid.” Get laid! Nothing could be further from her mind. She hadn’t flirted since way before she’d broken up with Gage, her Marine pen pal turned love interest. Her intention had been to brighten the life of one Marine in Afghanistan with care packages and cheery news from home. Soon she’d been in love with Gage. Yes, in love with a man she’d not yet met. They’d never said the word—love—but she’d felt it stronger than any force of man or nature. Jennifer had wanted to save her declaration for when she met him face to face. Shortly after the car accident, she’d broken his heart. Hers too. No explanation. She’d decided it was better that way. Marlene had pulled no punches at the time and had called her a moron. Jennifer turned to Marlene and couldn’t manage to stifle a burst of laughter. Her sister, dressed like Rhett Butler, mustache and all, cracked her up every time she laid eyes on her. It would never get old. Her husband was somewhere in the hotel dressed as Scarlett O’Hara, wearing a hoop skirt and a wig with corkscrew curls. “How do I look?” Jennifer asked. Wearing a white peasant blouse and a multi-colored flowing tiered skirt she’d made herself—no rental costume for her—Jennifer decided to embrace the mystical Gypsy deep inside and take her sister’s advice. Well, some of it, anyhow. She could get on board with being mysterious, drinking, flirting and possibly some fun. “Gorgeous,” Marlene said, twisting the upturned ends of her fake mustache. She handed Jennifer a colorful, glittery mask adorned with peacock feathers. Maybe it would be a magical night after all.

Blurbaliscious

I know I haven't stopped talking about my August Quickie release, Silk Stalkings and here I am pushing another book. My September release is Costume Ball. Here is the cover.

And here is the blurb.

Jennifer Goodwin is recovering from a traumatic car accident that has left her scarred, inside and out. Her sexy Marine pen pal haunts her dreams and has her heart racing, but she’s dumped him anyway, afraid of his pity. A costume ball gives her the chance to come out of her shell while hiding her face, and the hot sailor who approaches her tempts her to indulge in a night of forbidden passion.

Gage Brewer is on a mission, despite being on leave from the Marines. He’s determined to confront the woman who befriended him while he was deployed and find out why she left him. Once he’s claimed her body, maybe he can win back her heart.

Silk Stalkings - All Romance Ebooks

Silk Stalkings - All Romance Ebooks

 

We are for sale at All Romance Ebooks!

Tasty Teaser

Silk Stalkings excerpt!

 

The late model Miata in front of Diego Ramos crossed the centerline for the second time in the span of as many minutes before swerving into the left-hand turn lane without using a blinker.
 

Typical. Probably drunk, he thought. Diego had just come from towing a BMW to the city impound lot—the driver had been issued a DUI and hauled off to jail. It was a weeknight, but the owner of the BMW had stopped off after work for a nightcap that had turned into three or four. Maybe the driver of the little red sports car ahead of him had too.
 

Now I’ve seen everything. Or rather, despite his headlights cutting through the murky darkness, he could see nothing in the car ahead of him. Not even the driver’s head. Oh. There she is. He assumed she was a she because she drove a total chick car in a color that probably matched her fingernails—red. She must have had her head between her legs, kissing her ass goodbye. Excellent use of time, judging by her driving skills.
 

A hip-hop beat thrummed from her car, carrying all the way to the cab of his tow-truck. Diego watched her head bob to the music as they waited for the light in the turn lane to change. What is she doing? Applying lipstick, as near as he could tell. When the arrow glowed green, he waited a few beats before tapping his horn. Nothing.
 

She gunned her car through the intersection as the arrow turned yellow. Diego threw his hands in the air, but stopped his truck just short of the crosswalk. He didn’t need another ticket on his record. He beat his fingers against the steering wheel while he waited. When the light changed to green again he eased through the intersection and turned into the parking lot of the grocery store, as the sports car had.
 

She whipped her car into a prime compact spot close to the front doors as he cruised the lot for something roomier that would accommodate his large vehicle. Diego backed his tow-truck into a space alongside the building adjacent the grocery store, where he could enjoy his dinner in solitude later. But he could still clearly see her sports car. Not by accident or circumstance. Diego was drawn to trouble as a nail is drawn to a magnet. Being a wise man with a fair amount of common sense, he should head across town to a different store. She struck him as dangerous in the best possible way.
 

And sexy, he decided when the driver opened her car door and planted one lethally high-heeled pump on the pavement. What followed did not disappoint. Good thing he was done with curvy, conceited women with mile-high legs. He was on the lookout for a round little chica with big, brown eyes who could cook like his mother.
 

No harm in watching the driving-school-dropout from a distance though. So he did. Auburn curls bounced around her head and shoulders as she hurried into the store. Diego sauntered along behind her, which was a real treat for him. She wore white thigh-high stockings that stopped a couple of inches short of her flirty, pleated plaid skirt. Bows accented her stockings a few inches below the hem. On top she wore a plain, white cotton dress shirt, probably so as not to distract from the assets she had going on below the waist.
 

He needed a closer look and something to eat. Dinner and a show.
 

 

Little Miss Wild-Behind-The-Wheel bent at the waist to pluck a hand basket from the stack by the store’s automatic sliding doors. As she bowed, her skirt stopped just shy of her panties…if she wore panties.
 

Diego bit his tongue to stop himself from hollering, “Nice!”
 

Following her to the produce department, like your garden-variety pervert, he plucked an orange from the display and sniffed it for no other reason than to look as if he weren’t following her. He gave the orange a firm squeeze to decide whether it was a keeper. The orange was. She wasn’t. But that didn’t stop him from watching her. Hell, a city-wide blackout wouldn’t have stopped him from watching her.
 

She placed a head of lettuce in her basket. As she leaned in and reached for a long, thick cucumber, her foot came off the ground and bent at the knee. The sight reminded Diego of one of those 1940s black-and-white movies where the gal does the flamingo stance while getting kissed. Even her shoes looked like reproduction 40s footwear—on stilts. Or steroids. They were dangerously high. No wonder she’d been all over the road—she’d been driving with a disability.
 

Upon closer inspection, she didn’t seem drunk. The woman could probably walk a straight line if pressed by the cops. She deserved credit for walking at all on heels that high. The rest of her apparel appeared sort of Catholic schoolgirl gone bad. Very bad. She needed detention.
 

And a spanking.
 

His mind went off to a dark place as he imagined turning Naughty Dotty there over his knee to smack his open hand on the naked, milky flesh of her thighs. Right there in the sweet spot between her hem and her stockings. Desire sizzled all the way down his spine like a burning fuse. Diego mentally stamped out the flames before he exploded, imploded or needed to hide his erection behind a shopping cart.
 

He’d come in for a salad. Nothing more. I’m working, for Christ’s sake. Diego did not need the kind of trouble that came wrapped in a package like hers. His “type” was earthy, sweet and natural—starting now. The girl next door, not the whore next door. He’d had enough of bad girls. I’m thirty, for crying out loud. It was time to settle down and stop getting his heart tramp-stamped like a passport to sin. Don’t even get me started on the ding to my pocketbook. He’d been conned and outright robbed by the naughty-next-door type. He’d decided he must have a “kick me” sign on his back, visible only to hot chicks with very high heels, short skirts and low morals.
 

He weaved a path to the salad bar to feed his cravings with a chef’s salad—extra ham, egg and cheese. He needed protein to muster the strength to stay clear of the danger zone. Along with the healthy salad, he loaded his to-go container with some bad choices. Heavy pastas, bread and half a dozen butter pats. He’d pay dearly at the checkout, but better to feed his desire with food than a mistake.
 

Diego groaned a few minutes later when he found that the checkout lane was backed up with late night shoppers. Spotting his wet-dream-come-to-life in the shorter express line, he decided to brave the traffic jam of carts to avoid her.
 

“Sir…” A floor manager attempted to usher him to the more logical express line.
 

Diego raised his hand in protest. “I’m fine here.” An overflowing cart with a fussy toddler and a stressed-out mother pulled up behind him, making him feel guilty for holding up the line because he was too chicken to get within twenty yards of the hottie in high heels.
 

The manager tilted her head. “We have less wait time in the express line.”
 

He patted his back pocket, where he’d stuffed his checkbook. “I’m paying by check.” The express line clearly stated cash only. Diego played by the rules. Not always, but starting recently.
 

She waved him along. “Not a problem.”
 

The mother of the toddler flashed him a glare that might kill under certain circumstances. Her kid wailed, leaking tears and snot that threatened to ruin his appetite.
 

“Sure.” Diego followed the manager along to the express line. Stopping way short, he left a good four or five feet between him and the sex kitten.
 

Her white shirt was gathered up and tied in a knot near her navel, giving the impression that perhaps she was wearing her lover’s dress shirt after an evening of romping. She had her basket on the conveyer belt directly behind some guy purchasing a case of beer, a carton of smokes and a smutty magazine—the trifecta of debauchery. The woman ahead of him was twitching as she bought her weight in lottery tickets. Diego decided to count ceiling tiles. One, two, three…