So y’all voted, and this week’s winner is…UNDERCOVER STRANGER. If you’re keeping up in Shelley-Shayla land, this would be the Shelley Bradley book following STRIP SEARCH, all about Nicki’s sister, Lucia, and her uncle’s mysterious right-hand man, Blade…who isn’t exactly what he seems to be.

I don’t have any wonderful character inspiration pictures to show you yet. Still looking. But one weird thing about me: I’m not visual. My brain doesn’t really require pictures to process. I require music. For those of you who read my newsletter each month, that’s why I tell you the songs on high rotation in my iPod. One of the inspiration songs behind this book–The Weekend by Steve Wariner. Somehow, driving around while playing this song, the vast majority of the plot just congealed in my head.

Now, to be fair, I can’t say if or when this book will be released. I have A LOT of books I really want to write and there only so many hours in the day. With Berkley publishing both Shelley and Shayla books, we’d have to decide to make this a priority. Nothing has been settled yet. I’ll keep you posted.

GANG, SORRY TO DISAPPOINT. I’VE BEEN ADVISED THAT I’M NO LONGER ABLE TO POST EXCERPTS OF UNCONTRACTED WORK. SO, FUTURE EDITIONS OF FEATURE FRIDAY WILL FOCUS ON ALREADY-RELEASED OR SOON-TO-BE RELEASED WORKS.

THANKS FOR UNDERSTANDING!

I’m frequently asked one question with two connecting parts: Why the two different pen names and what’s the difference?

Good question! Lemme see if I can explain this…

Shelley Bradley books are strictly one man-one woman romances, often with adventure, some humor, and always, lots of emotion. These are erotic romances, emphasis on the romance. Hence the tagline “Sizzle from the Heart”.

Shayla Black books are…well, more anything goes when it comes to sexual content. As an example, you might have guessed from the title, excerpts, and backcover copy, WICKED TIES is a Dominant/submissive book with a healthy dose of bondage. Sexually, Shayla books are not always one man-one woman. As with most erotic fiction, one character takes a sexual journey that changes everything. It is an erotic romance, but the emphasis here is on the erotic. Hence the tagline “The Wicked Edge of Romance”.

But let me say this now: I will always give readers a happy ending!!! I, too, have been disappointed by some of the new erotic fiction that does not contain the HEA romance readers are looking for. I’ve heard many of you say that you’ve stopped buying these books. I understand. Which is why I’m here to promise that, even if I write for a line that does not require that the characters end happily, I am writing my books to include that.

Okay, to explain why the two different names if I’m writing erotic romance with both. You’ve probably guessed, but just in case… Shelley readers are accustomed to a hot but monogamous romance. Lots goes on between the sheets–or on the dining room table or on a stage or a bathroom, but I digress. These books do contain some light bondage, but don’t delve beyond that into the deeply erotic.

On the other hand, Shayla books are exploring lots of facets of the erotic, including BDSM, menage, anal sex–and more. Before making this choice, I spoke with several readers who said that while they loved sexy romances, they didn’t think they’d enjoy a book with a menage or had no interesting in reading about a D/s couple or a book with anal sex. So, to keep those people who’d rather stay on the more romance side of the fence happy, I gave them a simple way to know what sort of content they’d be getting just by the name.

Make sense? There’ll be a test later.

Oh, and it’s time to vote for this week’s Feature Friday. Vote quickly and tell me which book you like to see an excerpt from!! I’ll be posting bright and early on Friday morning…

Yep, it’s officially fall. I could–and probably should–extoll the virtues of the cooler weather, the return of football, the resuming of a settled routine with kids back in school, etc. Our state fair starts soon and our local pumpkin patches will open next weekend for lots of cool family fun. And that’s all great, but I’m totally excited about fall for a different reason–and one slowing my writing productivity: fall television

After a long, dreary suck-TV summer, fall TV is back! I usually restrict myself to just a handful of shows. This fall, I’ve picked up too many already and there are other tempting ones out there I’m dying to try. Because, as my bio says, I’m a reality TV junkie, we’ve natrually picked up the latest season of Survivor. So far, dividing the teams into ethnic groups hasn’t really produced fireworks, but the dynamic is interesting. On nearly every team, it seems like there is 1 person who either feels like an outcast among their own race or doesn’t identify with the rest of their teammates. I’m sure there’s an interesting socio-anthropological lesson in there somewhere. But I’ve been too busy with Dancing with the Stars, The Amazing Race and Extreme Makeover: Home Edition to stop and think about it. The single drama I’m watching this season is one of my fave standbys, Desperate Housewives. I’ve got last night’s episode on DVR. Shh! Don’t tell me anything yet.

But I’m tempted to indulge in more. I’ve heard so many people rave about Gray’s Anatomy. I usually avoid medical shows. I loathe blood on TV. But Patrick Dempsy…*sigh* And I’ve also heard good things about Standoff, which is supposed to be something like 24 meets Moonlighting. Jericho looks intriguing. I’m sure there are others, but I CAN’T WATCH THEM!! I MUST RESIST!

DECADENT (formerly DANGEROUS AND DELICIOUS) is not finished and is, in fact, due in 5 short weeks. I’ve still got over 100 pages to write, I suspect. And there sits my television in the family room whispering, “Watch me. You know you want to…” Anyone want to lie and tell me how terrible all TV is so I’ll get this book done on time?

One last bit of business from the “You Vote” post on 9/19. I’ve picked a blog name from those submitted. Cathy is the winner with My Wicked Muse! Congrats! Contact me with your full name and address, and top 3 choices from my backlist. I’ll send you a signed copy of at least 1. And soon, you’ll all be seeing the new blog name on my site.

Well, the vote tally for which book I’d feature today went something like this:

WICKED TIES – 38%
BOUND AND DETERMINED – 12%
DANGEROUS AND DELICIOUS – 12%
UNDERCOVER STRANGER – 12%

So… WICKED TIES it is. If you wanted to read about something different, vote next week when I call for opinions! The first character interview will be Rafe Dawson from BOUND AND DETERMINED. I’m hoping to squeeze that into the next week or two. If you have specific questions, either leave a comment or send me a comment form. If not…I’ll set my wicked mind to the task. No telling what secrets I’ll make that man spill.

I know, I know, enough business. Get on with the good stuff. Okay, let me set the scene: Morgan and Jack, strangers who have chatted once online when she interviewed him for her cable TV show, have met in person at a little outdoor cafe. Morgan knows she has a stalker; Jack, a bodyguard, doesn’t. But when she gets a mysterious message and someone starts shooting at her in broad daylight, he gets the picture quickly.

They run to a nearby strip club, owned by his friend Alyssa. He proposes that Morgan and Aylssa switch garb so they can sneak out of the club under the stalker’s nose. The excerpt picks up as Morgan is finishing the transformation process.

WICKED TIES
by Shayla Black
Berkley Heat
January 2007
If you are under 18, please navigate elsewhere

His gaze flew across the room and latched onto her. Black eyes scorched her, and a slow, sinful smile spread across his mouth. That look made her stomach clench. Quickly realizing she wore nothing but a revealing bra and thong, she glanced around for something—anything—to cover her.

She darted across the room and reached for the white satin sheet draped off the bed. Jack ripped it out of her hand.

“No time for modesty, cher,” he whispered in her ear, his voice inflected with a lilt that was decidedly Cajun French.

His body buffeted her backside, legs glancing hers, chest brushing her shoulders. The heat he gave off warmed skin she hadn’t realized was chilled. Despite his heat, goose bumps multiplied their way across her skin and a shiver ran down her spine. Her nipples made a sudden, unwelcome appearance.

She swallowed. He might be one of the good guys, but at the moment, his posture was pure predator.

“I don’t need you in here while I get dressed.”

“Mais yeah, too bad for you I plan to supervise. We aren’t leaving here until I’m convinced you can pass for Alyssa.”

“I’ve been putting on my own clothes since I was three. I think I can manage alone.”

“True, but I use Alyssa as cover for cases. We walk around pretending we’re drunk on hurricanes and sex. People are used to seeing me touch her. Often. But you…” He snaked a hand around her and laid a palm flat on her belly.

She jerked and gasped when his broad hand blanketed her bare midriff, his heat seeping under her skin, insidious, unstoppable.

“You,” he murmured in her ear, “jump when I touch you. You do that in public, and people will know you’re not Alyssa.”

With every word, Jack made her more aware that he was male—all male—and she was female. He had the kind of personal power that drew her. Her stomach flipped when he spoke. Her breasts swelled. She felt jumpy, unsettled, when he stood too close. Morgan swallowed tension so thick she thought it might choke her and tried to ease away from him.

Jack didn’t budge—or let her go.

Gnashing her teeth, she said, “There must be another way out of here besides you pawing me.”

“I wouldn’t take that bet. You wanna make it out in one piece, cher, without your stalker recognizing you through your disguise, you’ve got to act right. We’ve got to look real.”

The hand on her stomach started inching slowly north.

Morgan’s brain buzzed with the intimation in his words. He would touch her out in public, where complete strangers would see. Instantly, her breasts swelled again. Moisture gathered between her legs.

This is impossible. She wasn’t into public displays. And Jack’s caveman tendencies shouldn’t be arousing her. Having such fantasies was one thing. Living them…that was completely different. Stupid to indulge, especially with a stranger.

Jack interrupted her thoughts by cradling her breast between his thumb and fingers—and continuing to inch up.

Until Morgan slapped her hand around his wrist to stop him. “I don’t believe you. You don’t need to touch me that intimately to get me out of here.”

He stopped the upward progress of his hand. “Less than an hour with me, and suddenly you’re the security expert?”

“This isn’t a game. It’s my life!”

“Exactly,” he growled into her ear. “Locals, not necessarily the trustworthy ones, will be out there tonight, seeing me with a woman they think is Alyssa. If you’re gasping and fighting and pushing every time I put a hand on you, they’ll know you’re an imposter. And if the man chasing you offers them money for information about a suspicious female…you’ll be an easy target to spot.”

And an easy one to kill. Jack didn’t say it, but he thought it. Just as Morgan did.

“Couldn’t I leave here as a bag lady or a nun or something?”

“Your gun-toting friend is going to be waiting, watching. Don’t you think the emergence of a nun from a strip club would send up a few red flags?”

He was right, damn it. She had to get a grip. If dressing like a stripper and letting a good-looking guy fondle her for a few minutes was all it took to keep her safe, she’d survive the embarrassment and the blow to her modesty.

There was just one problem: She reacted to Jack not like a decoy, but a woman. Her body heated for him with a few whispered words and a glance. Still, the embarrassment she felt for responding to him was short-lived, particularly compared to death. When this fiasco was over and she could find a new place to hide, she’d never have to see Jack Cole again or care that he knew he could arouse her.

Taking a deep breath, she let go of his wrist.

“Smart girl,” he praised.

Morgan sensed him, his watchful gaze over her shoulder as he turned his wrist until her entire breast rested in his palm. She swallowed. God, her flesh felt heavy in his hot hand. He hovered there, breath scorching the back of her neck. Tension ramped up in her stomach…and lower, tightening with an ache she wanted to deny—and couldn’t. Her nipples hardened impossibly under his hot gaze. Morgan squeezed her eyes shut.

Then he swiped a thumb over the taut tip. Electric pleasure shimmied down her spine.

Unable to resist, she arched, pushing her breast into his hand.

“Good girl,” he muttered in her ear, then grazed the sensitive curve of her neck with his lips.

Arousal tightened again, pulsing low and hard. Her heart pounded away like a hoard of hammering carpenters. She squeezed her thighs together.

His left hand joined the right, taking possession of her other breast in a hot swarm of fingers. She didn’t jump, but fought the need to squirm, as pleasure battered her senses with the double assault. It took biting her lip to hold in her groan.

Why did her body react this way to a man she didn’t know and who practiced a sexual life she didn’t participate in?

It ceased to matter when he pinched the hard pinpoints of her nipples between his fingers, rolling them slowly with erotic patience.

Need spiked in her belly, arrowing straight down between her legs.

“Jack…” she protested.

“Shh. You’re doing fine, cher. As long as you don’t act like I’m unfamiliar, we’ll be all right.”

All right? If he did that again, she’d be melting.

He didn’t. Instead, his right hand left her breast to glide down her stomach, lower, lower, until his fingers edged underneath the damp black lace of her thong and unerringly found her swelling, hungry clit.

Enjoy your Friday!

When all else fails…feed the hungry pack some eye candy!

In the last 30 days, I’ve written about 140 pages on DANGEROUS AND DELICIOUS (which now may get a name change–stay tuned), read galleys for WICKED TIES and the print version of NAUGHTY LITTLE SECRET, participated in chats and Q&A sessions, and gave 2 presentations about writing-related topics to local writers groups. On top of my other non-writing responsibilities. And you wonder why I’m not a scintillating blogger… It’s because I’m not sure I managed to keep my sanity. So, I’m still gathering ideas and votes from your comments on the previous post–KEEP THEM COMING!! Tomorrow, and in the near future, you’ll see some new stuff. For now…I’m sorry, you just have to endure looking at Mr. Hottie-In-Bed. Poor you…

Okay, so he’s not the male equivelent of Vanna. Doesn’t he get points for wearing leather?

No more rambling here. Un-uh. Nope. I’ve joined Rambler’s Anonymous and their 22 step program. (12 steps just wasn’t enough. ) So it’s your turn to influence this blog with a vote or two.

1) Blog Name. I got no catchy name. Some people are so dang clever. I’m merely insomnia and deadline ridden. I need something like Scintillating Secrets (but better). Anyone good at these catchy things, leave comments with your suggestions.

2) Blog Features. Besides our regular Feature Friday excerpts, I’m thinking of some other regular blog features. Here are some choices:
- Character Interview. Once a month, I’ll do a character interview. Prowl all over my site, look at works in progress, current releases, my backlist–whatever. Pick any character you might want to know more about and I’ll interview him or her. If you have specific questions you want answers to, lay them on me. I’ll do my best.
- All About Writing. Since I actually know a bit about the writing biz, I could say something specific to writers every so often.
- Progress of current projects.
- Other. Is there something else you’d like to see here?

A good name and/or other winning suggestions earns prizes…so PLEASE vote now. Today! Results tallied Sunday night.

Last, it’s time to vote for Feature Friday. Which book would you like an excerpt from? Pick any on the Shelley or Shayla sites, and I’ll come up with something juicy on Friday.

But you gotta vote now. You don’t vote…and soon, I might be discussing the origin of the cello in fiction over the centuries or the joys of watching paint peel. You don’t want that, do you?

Since I’ve again been…persuaded to bring back the mid-month entertainment, hence the term “Centerfold,” I thought I’d provide a few insights into my alter ego, “Romance Author Husband” or RAH.

As many of my friends like to say, “it must be soooo great being married to Shelley – love must always be in the air.” Well, as I’m normally quick to point out, life is not always rose petals on the bed and interludes of ecstasy. Shelley is such a hard worker. Between our two careers and raising our rugrat – the “our” time sometimes suffers. Of course this is where RAH steps in an makes it all better.

Why, just last night we had a great evening on the town. We enjoyed a fine Mexican dinner conveniently served within 15 minutes. After refills of drinks and a $5 coupon redemption, we were out the door within 45 minutes. Eating quickly leaves time for “other” things. No, not rose petals and ecstasy. Costco. Yes, this shopping mecca just screams romance, and when I spotted Shelley checking out the new selection of sweat pants, I knew the evening was off to a roaring start. A quick stop at the grocery store, then we were back home – ready for whatever might come. And what was that? Nope, get your minds out of the gutter. It was a good night’s sleep for all. Romance, ecstasy, and love are things we enjoy, but with our hectic lives sleep is one commodity we relish.

More in October!

Gang,

I’m going to start a new feature today. I do better with a schedule, and I figured this would be better than a random, occasional excerpt. So, starting today, you’ll get and excerpt from me every Friday! It might be a current release or what I’m working on right at the moment. It may even be from my backlist. But every Friday, I’ll post a little something to…um, get your blood flowing.

Today’s excerpt, in celebration of being the #1 seller at Samhain for the past week, is from NAUGHTY LITTLE SECRET. Next Friday? Stay tuned!

Another feature I’ll be bringing back is The Centerfold. Somewhere around the middle of the month, my husband will regale us with his wisdom. *cough* Okay, so I’m laying it on thick. He will say something about the life of a crazy writer’s husband. Heaven knows exactly what… This segement been gone for a while, mostly because my DH has been lazy, but I’ve gotten out the whip and threatened (I’m not the beg sweetly type) and he’s consented so that he gets to keep all protruding parts of his body. You’ll see this on Sunday.

For now, enjoy your Feature Friday:

Excerpt NAUGHTY LITTLE SECRET
by Shelley Bradley
Samhain Publishing – August 2006
Adult Excerpt – If you’re not 18 or older, please navigate elsewhere

“Are you wet enough?”

Wet enough? Was he out of his mind? Her sex felt incredibly swollen and her inner thighs were wet with her own juices. With every breath and every movement, she could feel her bare flesh rubbing against itself. It was driving her crazy. And with his cock rooting around her aching sex, he was driving her crazy.

“You know I am.”

“How bad do you want it?” he whispered against her neck.

Fresh shivers wracked her. Frustration boiled up. She wiggled her ass at him, trying to entice, trying to trip the head of his cock inside her. He evaded, kept teasing and stroking her clit with his erection.

“I want it,” she panted.

“Enough to beg?”

Beg? Oh, that sounded terrible…and wonderful. She’d never wanted anything bad enough to beg for it, but he was pushing her every button, shoving her closer and closer to insanity. This dominant man and his forceful behavior reminded her of Noah. He made her feel like a wild woman prowled inside her, dying to burst free.

“Do you?” he prodded, pinching her nipples with his hands.

Easy capitulation had never been her style, however. And some feminine instinct told her he’d enjoy the hell out of her defiance. “Just fuck me.”

He chuckled in her ear. “Big girl thinks she’s calling all the shots now? I’ve got news for you. You’re bent over a table with your ass in the air. I could spank your pretty cheeks pink, and you couldn’t stop me.”

Mr. Mysterious reached a hand between them, then plunged a finger into her tight depths. Instantly, her body clasped at his finger, trying to suck him deeper. When he pressed down on her G-spot, she moaned and arched into his hand.

But he didn’t stay, damn him. Instead, he withdrew and trailed his finger from her swollen opening back to her anus. She stiffened when he circled her tight, unbreached hole with his wet digit.

“I could fuck you here.”

But he didn’t. He just continued rimming the small hole with his finger, awakening nerve endings she’d never known existed, then he plunged inside.

A gasp tore from her throat. Sensations she’d never dreamed of swarmed her. Her knees went weak, and Lauren was damn glad to have a table under her to hold her weight.

His finger filled her up, and he rhythmically pumped her ass with it. Friction bit into her resistance and heat shimmied up her spine. Every thrust of his finger seemed to send a fresh ache straight to her pussy, right to her clit. She pressed back against his hand, seeking more of the delicious stimulation threatening her sanity.

“Oh my God.” Her voice trembled.

“No one has ever touched you here.”

It wasn’t a question. It was as if he knew the answer. “No. Never.”

“I’m going to do more than touch you. I’ll fuck you here. Soon.”

The idea seared her with a bolt of heat. The ache in her belly tightened. She’d never fantasized about being anally penetrated. But after her stranger’s little demonstration, she wanted to explore that possibility right now.

Slowly, he withdrew his finger.

Lauren moaned in protest. “No. More.”

She ached for that long, strong cock inside her—anywhere inside her—giving her everything, sending her into the hot burst of ecstasy only he could deliver.

“Please,” she panted. “Please. I need you. To feel you…”

“You need me to fuck you?”

“Yes.”

“To make love to you.”

He kept coming back to this argument, and she wasn’t sure why. And at the moment, she didn’t care. As long as he ended her torment. “Yes. Now. Please!”

A shiver wracked her as his body covered hers, pressing her down to the table’s chilled, flat surface. Her nipples beaded, tight and stunningly sensitive, as her stranger grabbed her hips and plunged inside her swollen sex in one ferocious stroke.

Lauren cried out at his invasion. In this position, her channel was smaller, and he felt enormous. And utterly perfect.

She shook as he withdrew almost all the way in a slow retreat that had her gritting her teeth. A moment later, he pushed back in with a quick thrust that ripped a gasp from her chest and sent a jolt of sensation straight to her clit.

“That’s it,” he crooned in her ear as he slammed her again, gripping her hips with ferocious fingers. “Now, let’s make you come again.”

Happy Friday!

You lucky people, today you get treated to one of my 5:30 am ramblings!

So, last weekend… I had a great time traveling to Wichita Falls (seen above–which I’ve actually never seen in my multiple trips there) and hanging with the Red River Romance Writers. A great group! They asked me to speak about writing when you think you don’t have time. Which I did. And apparently incited guilt as well as anyone’s mother ever did. Not my intention, I promise. I’m a very bottom-line girl about this topic. If a writer spends every day at a day job or volunteering or mommying (or fill in the blank), then spends every night in front of the TV instead of the computer, those are choices. The day job may not be, and I know mommying takes up LOTS of time, escpecially when the kiddos are young. But I wrote 7 books in 3 years with a sickly child and a full-time job. It can be done. Volunteering and TV watching are totally a choice, however. I merely encourage writers to really think about how badly they want to succeed and where they’re spending their time.

After leaving a huge trail of unintended guilt in my wake, I headed home for a quiet Saturday night, feeling pretty good about myself because I was ahead of my deadline for DANGEROUS AND DELICIOUS. I arrived home to find the galleys for WICKED TIES waiting. Oh, this was so not in the plan… So now I haven’t written since Saturday and I’m about 10 pages behind. The rest of this week I’ll be playing catch up.

Sunday, I did nothing but read galleys, run a few errands and have a nice lunch with the family…and peek at the Cowboy game. And they lost!! Stupidly! They pissed away a 10 point lead. If you’re from Jacksonville, you’re probably very happy about this. I, however, am hacked.

In the thumbs-up category, my latest release NAUGHTY LITTLE SECRET is currently Samhain’s top seller!! I’m really excited and thank everyone who’s downloaded the book for their support. I hope you enjoyed it!

Monday was a zoo and included 2 conversations with my editor about DANGEROUS AND DELICIOUS. No, I can’t pull my punches or tone it down. I don’t want to take the drama out of this book. I adjusted a few small things, she agreed to leave the major things as is, so I’m happy. Onward…as soon as these galleys are done. Tonight, I’ll be very busy–

Oh, wait! Tuesday? Tonight is both the Rockstar: Supernova finale and the Dancing with the Stars season opener. Okay, who makes the schedules and where can I find them? Someone needs a stern talking to! Not that I have time to watch. Yes, see my opening paragraph. But I’m bad. Evil! I’m going to make the choice to watch some TV tonight. I’ll get back on the deadline horse. As Scarlett so aptly said, “Tomorrow is another day…”

I could say a lot of things today about writing and life and my weekend or whatever. And I probably will tomorrow. But today, for me, is about remembering.

I wasn’t in New York 5 years ago today and I didn’t lose anyone close to me. Many others weren’t that lucky, as we know. I, along with many other Americans, mourn the stupid, tragic loss of so many people that day.

For me, September 11, 2001 was supposed to be the day my hubby and I flew to Hawaii for a vacation. We were sitting in the airport waiting to board our flight when people in the waiting room became agitated. People started talking. The airline’s employees working the desk first delayed, then cancelled, the flight without stating why. By then, we knew at least one plane had struck the World Trade Center, but we didn’t know it wasn’t a pilot in a small plane who hadn’t tragically lost his way. We didn’t have any idea what had really happened. The airline’s representatives at the gate told us to claim our luggage at the baggage carousel and leave the airport immediately. On our way out, we saw teams of bomb sniffing dogs. People sitting in restaurants in the terminal had the news on. That’s when we first realized what awful events had occurred. We were lucky enough to be able to rush home to hug our family. So many people that day weren’t that lucky.

As information unfolded over the next few days, we watched in horror. I distinctly remember one child who had been on one of the the planes that crashed into the WTC. I remember her because my child was the same age. I remember crying for that child in particular and hugging mine closer. Even thinking about it now makes me weepy.

I’ll say happier things tomorrow. Today, I think I’ll just thank God there hasn’t been another such tragedy and reflect on all the people we lost and how life changed.