There is SO much going on right now. I usually reserve news day for Sunday, but this week, the door has busted WIDE open!!

First, Fallen Angels Reviews posted a new interview with me the other day. You can read it here. It’s short and sweet!

Next–very exciting–DECADENT is available for pre-order on Amazon.com!! The book is out October 2, so for all of you who emailed me to ask about Deke, here you go! Yipee!!

Moving on, Shayla will also be a voice in paranormal romance starting Fall 2008! This has been a long time in the works, so I’m thrilled to finally announce that yesterday I sealed a deal with Pocket Books to release the first of my new series, The Doomsday Brethren. Here’s a little blurb:

In today’s world of technology, science and logic, few people realize that magic lives and breathes—and walks on two legs—among mortals. Or that magickind possesses a weapon that can hurt, heal, comfort, destroy, grant fantasies, bring peace. Or, in the hands of someone terrible and strong enough to call forth its power, the weapon can bring about Doomsday.

Created during the days of the Round Table, it resurfaces in modern-day London and is sought by a wizard of evil brilliance with one goal: dominion over human and magical worlds alike. Only a band of wizards, enemies who must learn to become friends and accept love, can save the world from destruction.

The blurb was written on the fly, so it’s not my most coherent effort…but you get the drift. I’m very excited about this series and hope you’ll join me in taking a walk on the magical side next year!!

Last for the day (and then I’ll shut up for…oh, 10 minutes ), I want to scream from the rooftops about a Reader Appreciation Weekend hosted by Lora Leigh in September. Here are the details:

Join authors:

When: September 14 – 16, 2007
Where: Carter Caves State Resort Park in Olive Hill, Kentucky.
What: Raw 2007 is an intimate event, limited to 120 attendees, providing plenty of face-to-face time for fans and authors.
Cost: The room rate, your transportation to Olive Hill, Kentucky and a $100 registration fee.

Registration to Raw 2007 includes meals at the Luscious Slumber Party, the Sizzling Pig Roast and Rad, Rockin’ 80’s Dance, as well as the Satisfying Saturday Brunch and Sunday Fun Farewell Brunch, plus a tote bag, t-shirt and lots of other goodies, too!

Register quickly and be a part of exciting, unique RAW 2007! It is limited to the first 120 registrants, and it’s going to fill up fast, so hurry!!

If you are interested in attending this event, contact me via the form on my website and I’ll send you all the details…at least until I figure out how to overcome my techno challenge and get everything up on the web myself.

Thanks for sharing in my good news today!

Well, hell! RAH (Romance Author Husband) and I have lived in our house for 3 years. Our previous house had no formal living room by choice. We moved to get more space, and unfortunately the house that most met our needs had a formal living room. We shopped for furniture for months, but saw nothing we liked. Everything was too big or heavy or dark or contemporary. Just not right for that room that’s right across the entry from my French country dining room. So we decided to wait and really think about using the space as a reading room or a music room. In the end, we decided to use it as a living room after all, but I have not had time to shop for furniture. And RAH hates it. But we knew the space needed to be something other than a convenient place to put the Christmas tree.

Finally, RAH found something in a flyer we both liked on Thursday. Yeah, quick agreement. We could walk in, buy it and walk out. I could be back at the computer in an hour, tops. Right? Um, no.

2:25 pm: We visit the store in question and saw the furniture. We definitely liked it, but when we asked about it, we were told it had been discontinued. WHAT!!? You put a massive ad in the paper to sell discontinued pieces? They wanted to sell us the floor samples, but they looked like well-used floor samples, so we passed. The sofa was a creme color–exactly what we’d been looking for, but the dirt from MANY customers showed.

3:10: Trek next door…I won’t even call that formal living room furniture. It was bulky and sturdy and good for a family room, but not what we needed. Definitely nothing in a creme color. Onto the next store.

3:30: At store number 3, they had something we liked. No, I should say something I liked. RAH didn’t. Too fussy. And double what the grouping in store #1 would have cost us. We talk and look around, but ultimately decide we don’t want to pay more and settle for something we don’t love.

4:15: We drive to the other side of town and hit store number 4. RAH is highly irritated by now. He HATES to shop for anything, but especially furniture. This store looks promising. We find a grouping we like. The bonus is that the accents and tables are cherry, which coordinates with another piece I want to bring in the room. The price is right. The day is looking up. Until our salesman tells us it’s been discontinued. The only creme-colored sofa in the place and they no longer carry it. Again, they’d sell us the floor sample. We tell him we’ve been there and done that, so no thanks.

4:40: On to store number 5. The final one of the day, RAH assures me. I sigh, knowing he will keep that promise. We walk in the store, and I see a few things I like. He sees something he likes, but we realize we’d both be settling, so we walk on. On the far end of the store, we both spot this gorgeous creme-colored sofa with brocade pillows and a matching chair. It’s perfect. We love it. A little more than RAH wanted to spend, but I remind him I’ve been waiting 3 years for this. Our sales person comes over… You guessed it–discontinued, but they’ll sell us the floor model.

So I’ve deduced 2 things: There’s a conspiracy to prevent me from having a creme-colored sofa, so I will have to have have one made to order, damn it. And why is it, when I’m buying furniture, the sales people have that same vibe as car salesmen? It makes the whole experience unpleanant, like I need to take a shower afterward. Just not my idea of a good time.

Has anyone had great luck lately at finding exactly what they want when shopping? I need my faith in the shopping gods restored!

People ask me all the time what I’m reading. I’m never really sure why. Are an author’s reading habits any more interesting than anyone else’s? Hmm. May be one of those profound questions I’m never going to understand, along with who was Jack the Ripper or how was the universe formed? Okay, not THAT profound, but still a souce of head-scratching for me.

In an effort to satisfy everyone’s curiosity, here’s a parade of books on my bookshelf:

In Progress:

I just started this tonight. (Yes, I know I should be writing.) This cover just drew me in. He’s very intriguing. And anything British, I’m so there!

Just Completed:

All of these were incredible reads!! Very different, but totally enjoyable and worthwhile. But don’t try to buy HIDDEN AGENDAS yet. It’s not out until the end of June, but I got an advance read. Would it be too immature of me to say “neener neener”? Yeah, probably, but oh well.

Next Up:

I’m excited about all of these. Really looking forward to them. I’m totally excited to have an advance copy of HUNTING THE DEMON! But I must confess, when my copy of LOVER REVEALED comes in, I will drop virtually everything (books, dinner, cat, deadlines–I’ll keep the hubby) in order to read this book. I want to know what’s up with my man, Butch. Of course, come September, I’ll be a complete basket case. I LOVES me some Vishous!!! Okay, I’ll stop drooling.

So, that’s my contribution to one of the mysteries of the universe. I confess, it’s not profound, but if I’ve satisfied your curiosity, then my work here is done.

Shelley/Shayla

Gang, here’s a fabulous Friday read by the so-fun and talented Mackenzie McKade. I first met Mac at RT last year. She didn’t know me from the next psycho on the street, but she made me feel totally at ease in about 3 seconds. Great smile and sense of humor! She also writes some wonderful books…

Her latest is BOUND FOR THE HOLIDAYS. It’s one heck of a spicy read! Here’s a blurb:

An invitation too hot to pass up.

Angela Clarke finds herself bound for the holidays, literally. Not by one, but two gorgeous men—a powerful executive and one sexy cowboy.

Angie expected to spend Christmas alone, not in the arms of her new boss after the office party. Their attraction is hot enough to melt ice, and his wicked promises alluring. What he’s offering she has only fantasized about.

To her surprise, the night not only involves silk scarves and a set of handcuffs, but one tall dark cowboy.

Ryan Tyler has never thought twice about sharing his women with his best friend—until Ryan touches Angie. She stirs something deep inside him. But it’s too late to stop the decadent night from unfolding. What starts as hot sex with a warm, willing woman turns into something more. After tonight, Ryan knows he’ll never be satisfied with just one taste.

Could his fantasy lead to something lasting, or will it only be one night of pleasure?

Want an excerpt? Sure you do…

Bound for the Holidays
Copyright© 2006 Mackenzie McKade
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication
Adult material. If you are under 18, please navigate elsewhere.

The moment Angie pulled behind Ryan’s Silver Hummer and followed him into the locked community of Gainey Ranch, she was second-guessing her decision for a night of unadulterated sex with the boss. In front of them loomed a one story ranch style home that had to be worth at least two million.

Just the elegant wrought iron gate which opened automatically had her admitting her anxiety level hit a new high.

What on Earth had she been thinking, accepting a one-night stand with her boss? She could wake in the morning without a job.

He pulled into the circular driveway and stopped. She eased up behind him, letting the engine of her Honda Accord remain running. When he stepped from his car, walked to her side of the car and tapped on the window, she turned the engine off.

“Ryan?” Before she could explain why this arrangement might be a bad mistake, he opened her door and pulled her into his arms. Her purse slipped off her shoulder and she caught the strap in her hand.

With just a touch—a look—he erased all doubt and insecurity. He cupped her head and gazed into her eyes with so much intensity. His expression prickled her skin, giving her the feeling that she was on the pinnacle of being kissed like she’d never been before.

“Shhh…” he hissed.

With a feather touch he smoothed his mouth over hers, sucking first on her top lip and then the bottom, before parting them to slip inside. Languidly, he caressed her mouth from side to side, flicking his tongue against hers. She responded in kind, tasting scotch and spearmint. He thrust more firmly against her tongue, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, and their tongues began to duel.

Her fingers curled into the upper sleeves of his coat as she clung to him—lost in a valley of sensations. Arousing and potent, his kiss was like a drug.

She wanted more.

“Soft. Beautiful,” he groaned, moving his lips lightly across hers.

The night air was crisp. A small breeze stirred the paloverde trees that dotted his landscape, along with an occasional saguaro cactus or two. An ocean of rose-colored gravel with a line of walkway lights trailed alongside the sidewalk leading to his front door.

Strong palms stroked her neck with a gentle touch before he broke his caress and his lips followed the path of his hands. Fingertips breezed over her collarbone, working the neckline of her dress down to expose more skin. His tongue followed, dipping into the hollow area and moving lower to place small kisses upon the beginning swells of her breasts.

“Oh my God.” The words slipped from her mouth as she tossed back her head.

He didn’t stop there. Instead, he proceeded to lavish her cleavage with hot, wet kisses that made her breasts heavy with need, her nipples screaming to be next in line for his attention.

The area between Angie’s thighs was wet and ready. She needed him inside her now. But he took his time licking and nibbling on her skin, torturing her with long, slow caresses.

“Ryan, your neighbors.” Just the thought of performing for an audience made her hot.

Without releasing her, he guided her to the front door, reached into his pocket, extracted his keys, unlocked the door and pushed it open. No sooner did the door slam shut than she was back into his arms.

In their heated frenzy, she briefly noticed they stood in a foyer that opened up to a spacious living room where a huge custom decorated Christmas tree stood at least twelve feet tall. The glow from the twinkling Christmas lights bounced off white walls and marble flooring. A hallway led from both ends of the room. Everything else was a blur as he kissed her again.

When his hands touched her thighs, she felt her dress rise and her purse slipped from her fingers, falling to the floor. “Ryan, please.” Cool air swirled through her legs, stroking the dampness of her arousal. She released the breath she held, knowing she was one step closer to making a dream come true—making love all night long to Ryan Tyler.

What the hell is wrong with you, Angie? She was usually not the aggressor, but something about this man made her want to tear his clothes off, push him to the floor and fuck his brains out.

“What?” he asked, as his tongue slipped beyond her bra, getting closer and closer to a nipple.

“I need you inside me.” She released the death grip she had on his coat and began to push it from his shoulders. Her plan hadn’t been well thought out because in order to undress him, he had to stop touching her and that was simply unacceptable.

A cry of frustration pushed from her lungs.

He chuckled softly, making no attempts to hurry his seduction as his coat dropped upon the marble floor.

Excitement slid up her backbone. She wanted him to finish what he had started—undressing her. She knew it would be provocative to feel his palms sliding up her body, peeling off her dress.

“Dress. Remove it.” Her demand was breathless with anticipation.

Achingly slow, he pushed the silky material up her thighs, past her waist and then over her head.

She was so caught up in the moment she hadn’t noticed the large mirror hanging on the foyer wall until her reflection appeared inside it. She stood before Ryan in a black strapless bra, three-inch heels, black thigh-high nylons, a garter belt, a lacy thong and a look of pure lust on her face.

He took a step back and male appreciation washed over her from head to toe. “My God, you’re beautiful.” With a toss of his hand he slung her dress on the table beneath the mirror. As he approached, his eyes darkened with desire.

Again she found herself locked in his arms, another kiss of a lifetime placed upon her lips.

Thud! Thud! Thud! The door rattled with a pounding that startled her out of his arms. Heart racing, she tried to steady her breathing.

“What the hell?” Ryan growled, glancing over his shoulders. “It’s almost midnight.” He reached for the door as Angie dove for her dress.

But she didn’t have time to cover up before the door swung out of Ryan’s hand and the most gorgeous cowboy entered. Angie wondered if the man decked out in tight blue jeans, cowboy shirt and boots was another Christmas present for her to enjoy.

Da-yum!

The minute he saw her, dress clenched to her chest, a big Texas grin tipped his mouth. He released a whistle, and then touched the rim of his black Stetson. “Ma’am.” Gaze pinned on her, he set his duffle bag on the floor before he said, “Evenin’, Ryan.”

“You’re early.” Ryan sounded a little gruff as he closed the door.

The cowboy took another assessment of Angie starting at her feet and moving up her body. “Nah, partner, it looks like I’m just in time.” His southern accent was like warm chocolate on a cold morning.

Where Ryan was dark and sophisticated, this man was light and rugged. Golden brown hair, mustache and beard groomed neatly around his mouth, he was the persona of the wild-wild west. All he needed was chaps, spurs and a six-shooter.

Yee haw!

For a moment, she wondered what he’d charge for a mustache ride. Would that facial hair tickle against her thighs? With the wicked thought, her nipples tightened and moisture released between her thighs.

“Angie Clarke, meet Wade Peterson, who used to be my best friend.” Ryan ran his fingers through his wavy hair. He glanced at her and she could see an apology in his eyes.

Wade jutted out his hand. When she reached to shake his callused hand she lost the grip on her dress and it floated to the floor. Heat flared across her face, as his big brown eyes darkened and he caressed her with his hot gaze.

His broad chest rose on a breath. “You’ve been holding out on me, Tyler. Is this filly saddled for two riders?”

Filly? Two Riders?

Holy shit! Was the man talking ménage?

Click here to buy this hot little read.

Happy Friday!
Shelley/Shayla

Happy Valentine’s Day, y’all!

It’s one of the most fun, sexy, romantic days of the year. I hope it’s everything you want and more!!

To celebrate, I’ve joined forces with Wickedly talented authors Sylvia Day, Mackenzie McKade, Cathryn Fox and others to create a fun reader community chat group. We’ll be having lots of fun talking about anything that strikes our fancy, as well as planning Wickedly fabulous surprises…

So please join by sending an email to wicked_writers-subscribe@yahoogroups.com! (You can copy and paste this address into the TO: line of your email program.) As enticement to join, I’ll be giving away a fun and naughty Valentine’s basket, including signed copies of:

To be eligible:

That’s it. Hope to see you there!!

Oh, and here’s a little Valentine from me to you. Enjoy!

Shelley/Shayla

I’m going to be a little backward today. Actually, that’s no surprise if you ask RAH, but let’s not go there…

Anyway, cool facts:
I apparently live in an information vacuum and did not realize that WICKED TIES:

Woohoo!! I really must thank people for pointing these things out to me. And thank you to everyone who has bought the book and supported me. Without readers like you, writers like me don’t get to continue writing for publication. Thanks so much!!

This week’s feature book (sorry I didn’t get it up here on Friday) is none other than the famous Lora Leigh’s new title DANGEROUS GAMES.

Isn’t he hot, y’all? I wouldn’t be opposed to playing games with him.

IT’S NOT WHETHER YOU WIN OR LOSE.
Navy SEAL Clint “Iceman” McIntire didn’t earn his nickname by being a coward. Or a quitter. Having crushed an infamous drug cartel in Colombia, Clint was nothing short of an American hero. Now he’s home, on a much needed leave, but instead of some R&R, he finds himself neck-deep in trouble with his best friend’s little sister, Morganna Chavez, the only woman who has the power to bring him to his knees. . .

IT’S HOW YOU PLAY….
Morganna has been secretly working with the DEA to uncover a thriving date-rape-drug, which leads her to a shadowy faction that is more deadly than anything her team has ever encountered. Now it’s up to Clint to keep this beautiful, determined agent out of harm’s way, even while the passion between them threatens to consume them. Soon Clint’s greatest mission will be not just keeping Morganna safe, but getting her into his arms and never letting go.

Excerpt
copyright Lora Leigh
If you are under 18, please navigate elsewhere

Unedited Excerpt

“Why am I so not surprised to see you here?” Morganna muttered as she followed the scent of freshly ground and brewed coffee from her bedroom to the kitchen.

There were few people capable of making decent coffee. Clint was one of the best.

He was sitting at her kitchen table reading the newspaper. Dressed to kill in well-worn jeans and a white shirt that begged her to unbutton it and strip it off his wide shoulders. If she weren’t so damned mad at him, then she would have tried.

Her one concession to modesty herself was the loose, light cotton pajama bottoms with Kiss This written across the rear, and a rosy pink camisole top that left a swath of creamy bare skin from just above her belly button, to the band of her pj’s that lay below her hips.

“I brought donuts. They’re probably still warm.” His voice was soft, almost conciliatory as he laid the paper down and picked up his own steaming cup of coffee.

“Cream-filled?”

“Would I bother with anything else?” Amusement laced his voice.

Okay, so her habit was pretty well known. Krispy Kreme cream-filled glazed. She opened the box and inhaled as a shiver of pleasure washed over her. Forget sex with grouch-ass. She would drown her sorrows in fluffy cream filling and melt-in-your-mouth sweet perfection.

“Why are you here?” She shuffled over to the coffeepot and picked up the waiting cup.

She heard his sigh behind her. She didn’t trust Clint when he was being nice. Which said something about their non-relationship.

It sucked.

“I promised Reno I’d look after you while he was gone.” He cleared his throat with uncharacteristic nervousness.

She restrained the urge to throw the cup of coffee at him.

“I’ll lie for you and tell him what a great job you did when he gets home.” And in the meantime she would figure out how to heal the lacerations he was inflicting on her heart.

“Morganna…”

She turned, watching as he wiped his hand over his face, his expression somber as he lifted his eyes to her. Not just somber, his blue eyes were dark with emotion, with a rare tenderness that never failed to clench her heart.

God, she loved him. And at it times it just seemed so hopeless.

“Look, I just want to talk sensibly. Can we do that? Just once?” He asked.

“I always talk sensibly, Clint. You can just never get past the fact that while I’m doing so, I’m making you hard,” she pointed out sadly. “That’s not my fault.”

He lowered his head, rubbing fiercely between his eyes as he grimaced.

“I’m trying here, Morganna. Can’t you?” The irritation faded from his expression as he stared back at her sincerely. “Just for a few minutes?”

“Have you changed your mind about working with me?” That betrayal was the worst he had dealt her so far.

“I can’t do that.” Regret filled his voice.

She breathed in roughly, fighting past the pain that rose in her chest, thickened her throat.

“Then we don’t have anything to talk about,” she told him evenly. “You wasted your time this morning, Clint. The donuts were a nice try though.”

She moved to the box of donuts, lifting the lid and removing one as she glanced back at him. He was watching her silently, calculating.

Damn him, he knew how she felt, knew how weak she was toward him. Surely he wouldn’t try to use that against her now?

She knew Clint, to the bottom of her soul. What he couldn’t get yelling at her, he would try to ‘reason’ her into. Sadly, his male reasoning sucked, which meant she wasn’t in any danger of agreeing with him. He hadn’t tried sexual coercion. Yet.

Moving back to her coffee, she leaned against the counter, crossed her ankles and bit into the near orgasmically delightful confection. His eyes followed every move.

“You’re not going to even try to understand, are you?” he asked quietly.

“That you’re being unreasonable?” She licked the thick fluffy cream from her lip with a flick of her tongue. “I understand that completely, Clint. I actually expect it from you.”

A frown marred his brow. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that since the moment you caught me wearing makeup and dressing like a girl instead of a tomboy, you’ve resented me. You see me as a pretty, worthless party girl without a brain in her little head. Unfortunately, I’m not willing to play into your image of that forever. I’ve actually grown quite sick of it.”

Morganna picked up her coffee, sipping at the hot brew as she watched his expression close.

“That’s not true.”

“Of course it’s true.” She smiled gently, inhaling a ragged breath. “You think I’m just like your mother. Unable to settle down or care for her children while her husband is off fighting wars.”

There. It was out in the open. Morganna steeled herself against the hard expression that came over his face, the ice in his eyes. God, she hated it when he looked at her like that.

“This has nothing to do with her.”

“Of course it does. It always has.” She shrugged, fighting back the tears, the pain. “Do you think I haven’t realized what the problem was all along, Clint? You believe I’ll screw around on you while you’re gone, simply because I wear makeup and like to dance. Because she did. As far as your concerned, I have no more honor than she did.”

“You’re reaching, Morganna.” He shook his head.

“Am I?” Her smile was forced as was the calm edge of her voice. “I don’t know, Clint. The evidence is pretty overwhelming from where I sit. We were getting along fine when I was a little tomboy chasing after you. Once I started wearing makeup and having a life outside you, you’ve hated me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You can’t keep your hands off me and you hate yourself as well as me for it.”

Her heart was racing as his brows lowered ominously, his expression becoming darker.

“Morganna. That has nothing to do with this operation…”

“Of course it does.” She lifted her chin defiantly. She was not going to cry over him again. She had spent weeks crying a year ago when she made the mistake of going to his apartment to comfort him after his buddy’s death. “It has everything to do with it. How can a party girl, one step above a tramp, possibly contribute anything worthwhile to such an important cause? I’m a hazard to the entire operation aren’t I, Clint? It doesn’t matter that I’ve been training for this for years. That I fought for this assignment and that it means something to me. All that matters to you, is that you can’t handle it.”

“Because you’re inexperienced and that will get you killed.” His jaw clenched almost violently. “You’re not cut out for this life.”

She stared back at him silently for long moments. She didn’t fight the pain he could cause her. It would rise and ebb, like the tide. What tore at her heart now would ease to no more than a dull ache in a few weeks.

“Taking me off this assignment isn’t going to make a difference,” she finally said. “When I return to the agency, the commander will find me something else. Perhaps not something that means as much to me, but something I believe in. What will you do then, Clint?”

He didn’t answer her. Clint rose slowly from his chair instead, his expression blank, though his eyes churned with emotion as he watched her.

“Don’t make the mistake of coming back to one of those clubs tonight,” he announced, his voice hard.

She tossed the donut to the top of the box as she stiffened defiantly. “Don’t make orders you can’t enforce, Clint. It is a free country here, you know.”

“Don’t you underestimate me, Morganna.” He towered over her, glowering down at her from his lofty height with arrogant confidence. “I will put a stop to this.”

“Why?” Her fists clenched as anger enveloped her. “Why do you even care, Clint?”

“Because it’s no more than I would expect from Reno if it were Raven acting so damned foolishly,” he growled. “I won’t let you risk your life, Morganna.”

“And you don’t? Have either Raven or I demanded that you leave the military and take a nice safe little job shuffling papers? Your double standards suck, Clint.”

“Then they suck,” he retorted, his voice harsh. “Dammit it, Morganna, you’re asking too much of me.”

“And you’re a liar,” she raged back rashly. “This isn’t about Reno, or friendship or anything else. The fact of the matter is that you can’t admit how much you care about me, so you’re just going to jerk me out of something I’ve worked my ass off for. You’re selfishness amazes me Clint.”

“Bullshit!”

“The hell it is.” She was in his face and didn’t even realize how she got there. Her finger jabbed into his chest as she stared up at him challengingly. “You won’t work with me because you know if you did, you couldn’t keep your hands off me or your stone-cold heart safe. That’s your problem. Walk away like you always do. But no, you have to destroy my dreams while you’re at it.”

“My problem is spoiled little girls who think they’re bulletproof,” he snarled, catching her wrist and holding it in the manacle of his fingers. “My problem is your damned stubbornness. I can’t even talk to you.”

“Because you never see anything beyond your own needs,” she cried out raggedly. “You think you can lay down laws and I’ll obey you like I did when I was a child. I’m not a child anymore.”

“That’s more than obvious every time you parade around half dressed in one of those fucking clubs,” he bit out. “You’re a walking, talking signal for sex and you know it.”

“And you hate it because you can’t ignore me. Because it just makes you hungrier. You can’t stand it, Clint, because you want me just as bad as I want you. Until it’s like a sickness you can’t get rid of.”

“Damn you,” he groaned. “God damn you, Morganna.”

He jerked her into his arms, his lips slamming down on hers, grinding against her as the breath tore from her chest. Desperation fueled his kiss, desperation and fury. She could understand that. She had enough of it herself.

Rather than fighting him, her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she arched to him, certain she could crawl right beneath his flesh if he continued to consume her with his lips as he was.

She moaned with aching need as a growl of hunger tore from his chest. His hands were on her hips, lifting her to him as her back met the wall and his cock notched heatedly between her thighs.

The rough denim of his jeans and the fragile material her pajama bottoms did nothing to protect her from the hard shaft pressing against her. She could feel the dampness flowing from her, the tight clench of her vaginal muscles and the flaming need that overtook her.

Morganna wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands spearing into his hair to hold him closer to her, to relish every inch of the hard body pressed into hers and the calloused palms clenching against her rear.

“Open.” He growled against her lips as she held them closed. “Now.”

His tongue pressed against the seam of her lips before one hand left her rear, his fingers gripping her jaw and exerting just enough pressure to force her teeth open.

A shiver of debilitating arousal shot through her at the dominant forcefulness. She shuddered in his grip as his tongue forged past her lips and sent fire rushing through her body. The heat of his touch, his kiss, seared her, tore through her senses and enveloped her in a need so intense she didn’t know if she would survive it.

She wrapped her legs around his lean hips as they ground against her, moving her body in counterpoint to his, the friction against her clit sending impulses of pleasure so intense throughout her body that she knew climax was only seconds away.

His lips devoured hers, slanting against them as his tongue fed from her. Morganna met his kiss with a greater demand of her own. Years of aching, unslaked arousal was like an animal clawing at her womb. She needed him, helplessly, desperately.

“You make me crazy,” he groaned as his lips tore from hers, his hands moving against her as his body held her firmly in place against the wall.

His hands pushed beneath her sleep top, jerking it above her breasts as his palms covered them, drawing an incoherent cry from her lips as she writhed against him, determined to find release before he changed his mind. Again.

“I love your breasts. They get so tight and hard for my touch, your nipples flushing that pretty ruby red.” His head lowered as the fierce throb of lust in his voice sent tremors quaking through her.

When his lips surrounded one hard point, Morganna saw stars. He wasn’t gentle, but she didn’t want gentle. She didn’t need gentle. She needed this, his teeth gripping the hard point, nipping at it erotically before his lips surrounded it, his cheeks drawing on her with a friction that slammed pulse points of pleasure through her vagina. She needed to come. She needed just a moment of release, just one driving orgasm from his touch and she could go on, because she was smart enough, intuitive enough to know Clint would never give in this easily.

It’s a great book. I highly recommend it! Yum!!

This sucks. I’m not sleeping. Again. Hate it. You know I’m tired when RAH (Romance Author Husband) brings me chocolate cake for dessert and I’m too tired to eat it.

Insomnia runs in my family, and I’ve dealt with it for years. But right now, it’s eating my lunch. Hence, no Feature Friday today. Sorry. I’ll try for Sunday. Maybe I will have slept by then…

In lieu of anything fascinating to say, I’m going to post a couple of events that may be of interest to you:

* 10 February, 2007 – 11am Eastern/9am Pacific: Author chat at Love Romances with Annmarie McKenna and Kate Davies! Come join us for excerpts, chatter and general fun. Oh, and probably a book giveaway or two.

* 10 February, 2007 – 3pm-5pm Central: Booksinging at Borders – Lewisville, TX with Katherine Garbera, Kara Lennox, Lori Wilde and others! If you happen to be in the Dallas area, stop in. There will be books and chocolate. It’s tough to beat that!

* 12 February, 2007 – All day: Berkley Authors chat at Joyfully Reviewed with me, Alyssa Brooks, Kathleen Dante, Sunny, Annette Blair, Rebecca York, Nicole Byrd and Linda O. Johnston. Join this eclectic group of Berkley authors to talk about their recent and upcoming releases.

* ASPIRING EROTIC ROMANCE WRITERS OR PUBLISHED AUTHORS LOOKING TO BREAK INTO A NEW GENRE!!! Have the first 35 pages of a manuscript ready? Want the opportunity to get some feedback from experienced and published writers, maybe get it in front of an editor’s eye? Enter your manuscript in Passionate Ink’s Stroke of Midnight contest. All the details are available from the Contest page of the Passionate Ink website.

Okay, that expends my energy for the night. I’m off to nag RAH about writing a lovely Valentine’s Day centerfold for y’all. Then I’m going to get to dreamland somehow!

If you’ve been following for a while, you know about the drama surrounding the cover for DECADENT. Luckily, Berkley has been willing to work with me to get the right cover look. We’ve been through quite a few drafts. In case you missed out, here’s the history.

The first draft…um, no. Absolutely not. I was told later the person on the cover was a man. What the hell is he wearing? And pigtails? I get vertigo just looking at this.

The second version was much better, but still not right. It didn’t didn’t have the continuity in with WICKED TIES that I wanted. It still seemed a little bit…pink. This book is in no way sweet. So it just didn’t work for me. Luckily, my editor was willing to try again.

I received a third version, but never got an electronic copy, so I can’t share it here. Much closer…but still not perfect. My name was the wrong color. I wanted some coloring done to the title. Small things. I got them!

Yesterday, Berkley sent me this wonderful cover. This is the sort of mood/look/feel I had in mind when I located the image of this couple and fell in love. I hope you like it, too!! Drumroll please….

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Woohoo!! I love it. What do you think?

Okay, so today is Super Bowl Sunday and laundry day. I need to draft up my February newsletter and, of course, write. I didn’t get actual writing done yesterday. Bad me!

Normally, on Sundays, I’d try to catch you up, make you think, make you laugh…something. Sorry, but I don’t think I can fit thought-provoking on to my calendar. Today, I’m simply going to make you drool. It’s Hero Central!

For those who have read WICKED TIES and asked, here’s my image of Jack. I have no idea who this is; some of you likely will. (And if posting this is a no-no, I’m sorry.) But isn’t he scrumptious?

If you’ve read WICKED TIES, you might have wondered about Deke. My October 2007, DECADENT, is all about him. I don’t have fabulous pictures of him. But anyone remember the big blond guy from Rocky 3? That’s how I pictured Deke–and I never saw that movie. Go figure… Here is an image that’s very close to what I pictured, but think shorter, less 1980′s hair:

If you really read WICKED TIES and caught Deke’s references to living with his cousin, Luc, my image of him is below. As I say in DECADENT,

In terms of looks, the two men [Deke and Luc] were night and day—literally. The one before her was a sultry, sexy midnight, all dark and wanton looking. Deke was tawny hair and skin, all discipline and hustle and hard noon.

Anyway, here’s Luc (and yes, I know that’s actually Cherif Fortin):

And just to round things out, I’ll include a little something a friend sent me recently. Since I haven’t given him his own book yet, I need to add him–I mean, this–to my to do list. He just screams yummy without calories!

Have a great Super Bowl Sunday!

The Winter Solstice brought us the announcement of the title of the seventh and final Harry Potter book, HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS. If you’re a Potterphile like me, you’ve heard and read lots of analysis on what this means. If you did this with Half-Blood Prince, you should realize that analysis of the title is basically meaningless. I can’t tell you how many lists I saw circulating with candidates for HBP before that book’s release. They were pretty much all wrong. It didn’t even mean what we thought it meant. *sigh*

So now it starts again with the endless commentary that hallows is actually a verb that means to make holy or to revere, and deathly just gives the whole thing an ominous feel. Since December 21, I’ve been rolling my eyes, thinking whatever… Speculating is just so painful when everyone is so frightfully wrong. I’d rather just wait for the book and find out what it really means.

But in the back of my head was that dreadful question: How long will JKR make us wait for the book? Because for the impatient among us, the non-speculation and wait is just as painful.

There was that terrible three-year wait between Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix. It’s already been eighteen months since Half-Blood Prince was released. Would she torment us with another eighteen month wait before we could find out exactly what the Deathly Hallows means?

This morning, she decided to stop torturing her fans. On July 21, the Summer Solstice, the final Harry Potter novel will be released. And we can stop speculating on what this means, as well as other questions: is Snape is good or bad, will Draco come over to the good side, will Harry live or die, will Ron finally get a clue and ask Hermione out, how Voldemort will be vanquished, etc. The list of questions is endless, and as a writer, I wonder if the poor woman had to pen a thousand page tome to answer all these questions while still crafting the kind of killer story Potter fans have come to expect.

But then I realize that, as the podcast Mugglecast pointed out, this is the beginning of the end. No more midnight book parties. No more endless speculation (which I masochistically enjoy) about all the aforementioned questions. No more looking forward to another book about Harry Potter. With this final installment, we’ll know his entire story. It’s both good and bad, makes me happy and sad.

Gosh, with Harry gone, what WILL I obsess about?