I think he says it all for me, don’t you? I’m not sure it gets more eloquent than that.

It’s a great season, so far! I’m with my parents, who live about 1000 miles from me, so I only get to see them a few times a year. Great weather at their house. Being from L.A., I don’t need/like/want the whole seasonal/snow thing. A balmy 70 works for me, and I got it. There are lots of presents under the tree, and Santa has been good to everyone. We’ll be having our traditional Mexican food for Christmas Eve tonight, which is cause for celebration itself for me. Everyone is happy and healthy. Life right now is great.

Continuing the theme, I received from great news the night before my trip. Romantic Times magazine has nominated Decadent for best erotic romance of 2007! To say I’m stoked and thankful is an understatement. And I’m nominated with some other really wonderful authors: Bella Andre, Eden Bradley, Celia May Hart, Joey W. Hill, and Noelle Mack.

To celebrate, I enjoyed a glass of my favorite Riesling last night and picked a blog winner to the Feature Friday: Elijah blog. Allison, please forward me your information via email, and I’ll make sure that Jacki gets it so you can receive your trifecta prize.

I’ve also got another goodie to give away. If you’d like to win a signed copy of Touched by Fire by reader-favorite Catherine Spangler. As usual, just leave a comment here to register to win. I’ll randomly pick a winner in a few days.

I still have some last minute shopping to finish today, some cookies to bake for Santa…then a holiday to enjoy. I hope yours is the best.

This week’s Feature Friday is a guest blog from NYT bestselling author, Jacquelyn Frank. There’s a giveaway for a signed copy of her latest book, Elijah and the other Nightwalkers in the series to date. Read on for details…

Elijah is here!!!

The captain of a noble and ancient race of demons dedicated to protecting the world from the Necromancers, Elijah bends for nothing and no man—until a woman called Siena, the Lycanthrope Queen, brings him to his knees.

Near death after an ambush by the hated Necromancers, Elijah is found by Siena, who rushes him to safety and tends to his wounds. Although she recognizes him as the Nightwalker most reviled by her people, she is shaken by her instant attraction to him. Elijah, too, is drawn to the seductive royal, but can he tame the proud Siena, who has vowed never to wed? As their battle of wills gives way to passion, they must join together to fight an even stronger force…one that threatens to destroy them all.

I mean it! E is out there! Don’t let the stores tell you otherwise! They have those books and they belong on the shelves! Hunt them down, little gatherers, and feed your needy lust for adventure and paranormal hotness! Find out why readers are gasping, crying and throwing the book against walls…and running to pick it up again:

ELIJAH
Prologue
‘Whosoever wishes to know the fate of Demonkind must consult these prophecies…’

‘…it will come to pass that in this great age things will return to the focus of purity that Demonkind must always strive for. Here will come the meaning and purpose of our strictest laws, that no uncorrupted human shall be harmed, that peaceful coexistence between races shall become paramount…’
–Excerpts from The Lost Demon Prophecy

…it is therefore forbidden for any of Demonkind to mate with creatures who are not their equals, not of their nature, not of their strength and power. Those lesser creatures are ours to protect from ourselves, not to be violated in impure sexual abomination. This is the law and the will of nature. The dog does not lie with the cat; the cat does not lie with the mouse. Whosoever breaks this sacred trust must suffer under the hand of the law…

–Excerpts from The Original Scroll of Destruction

Elijah fell to his knees, his hand clutching at his chest as warmth spread between his fingers, staining them and his white shirt a bright crimson. He looked down at the blossoming picture of his life’s essence spreading over the material, almost with the fascination one gave to the sprawling, artistic circlets of a tie-dyed shirt.

The warrior Demon was astounded.

He had been injured repeatedly over his centuries-long lifetime. He was certainly no stranger to it. Everything from mystical electricity to wicked blades made of the brutal, burning iron that was so toxic to his kind, had cut into him in one way or another over the ages. Some wounds had been serious enough to leave scars in spite of his remarkable innate healing powers, some had not. But never had he been injured in a way he would consider a truly mortal wound. Mortal to others was not mortal to him. Mortal to the average Demon was also not mortal to him, if only by his stubborn refusal to succumb to something so passé as death.

However, in this case it was not simply because a hole was torn through his chest and very near the vital workings of his heart that his life was threatened, but because he was in the middle of nowhere, too weak to call for help, and surrounded back and front by enemies. Even if he could somehow find the stamina to survive this rending intrusion into his body, these enemies would not let him live any longer than they wanted him to.

Elijah was immediately furious with himself for ending up in this predicament. He was Captain of the Demon warriors, the elite army at the beck and call of the great Demon King. He was the most skilled fighter of all Demonkind, a Nightwalker race renowned for its awesome abilities in battle. He had lived all the centuries of his life honing his craft, learning everything there was to know about battle, war and the weapons and strategy required to meet success in those situations. Jacob, the Demon Enforcer, and his liege lord, Noah, the Demon King, were the only ones he would have considered personally equal to his battle prowess. He was not supposed to be so stupid as to fall into even the best laid traps, nor capable of being bested once caught by said trap.

Even without training, at their hearts all Demons were essentially battle ready beasts. He believed that. It was a personal philosophy and he strongly felt that no matter how heavy the veneer of civilization within their race, or within the individual, there were instincts that could not ever be denied. Sure, Demons looked human, although taller and tanner than the average, but they were also considered extraordinarily attractive if in human circles. Elijah knew this was because the elemental and animal genetics within them allowed for heightened pheromones that called out to the opposite sex, a predatory sense of awareness that exuded attractive danger, and the penchant for extraordinary eyes behind which settled equally extraordinary cunning and intelligence. All the qualities of natural born hunters, always seething just beneath the surface, waiting for someone to make themselves prey. Demons were capable of behaviors as untamed as the elements they claimed their great powers from. Behaviors they had embraced and integrated into every skill they cultivated in their long lifetimes, making them formidable opponents should you manage to get on their distant bad sides.

Thus, even the most juvenile of fledglings could have avoided his current predicament, the warrior thought crossly to himself. So to be caught like this, like a weakling mouse in a trap, was shameful and enraging. How had the act of doing his duty suddenly turned on him? He was the Warrior Captain, the stalker of all Nightwalkers with a price on their head, those who were not of the Demon race who had committed egregious acts and sins against the Demon people, a direct challenge and insult to the Demon King. He was the one who was a specialist in all those species, an anthropological strategist. If one wanted to know the true ways of how to destroy Vampires, Lycanthropes, and most every other Nightwalker species, Elijah would be the best source of information. War and peace were, unfortunately, transient things, and it was his duty to be prepared for all possibilities, in case friends became enemies, or enemies threatened friends.

Elijah fought off a passing cloak of dimming consciousness and the spinning of his immediate surroundings. It was he alone who belonged at the head of his monarch’s armies when needed, and he who must train the spies and assassins who would slink through the shadows in the face of threatening intrigue. Therefore, he knew everything anyone currently could discover about the humans who dabbled in the perverse arts of black magic. The same kind who stood around him that very moment, circling him like vultures awaiting the end to a victim’s final death throes.

The use of this corrupt power turned these foolish human men and women into necromancers, staining their souls with the inky dye of evil and imbedding a stench so foul into their flesh that no Nightwalker with a clean soul could bear to breathe in the odor of it. They were powerful, capable of growing even more so the more they studied and practiced their vile arts, but they were not powerful enough to capture him, never mind kill him. No, only his stupidity could have provided that opportunity to them.

He must have looked like a holiday turkey, breaking through the tree line and stepping into their trap. Necromancers all around, as well as the human hunters who spent time chasing down myths so they could torture and kill them. Mortals who took it upon themselves to not only uncover the existence and locations of the hidden Nightwalker races, but made it their personal quest to eradicate them from the planet armed with little more than myth, legend and ignorance as they tried to do so.

(this is an unedited excerpt)

And if you are in the area around Asheville, NC, I am holding a signing on December 29th (Saturday) from 2-4 at Books-A-Million and you can get your shiny new book (so what’s a bruise from a wall here or there?) signed if you like. I would love to have you!

Oooh….sugar rush! Cool! Then again, it doesn’t get any sweeter than this. Thanks guys!

And thanks, Shelley/Shayla, for letting me visit. I will give away what I like to call The Trifecta, that is to say ALL THREE BOOKS, new and SIGNED, to one of you who responds or chit chats or comments here. (Warning: Delivery of your prize will be delayed until after New Year’s Day because I am slave to a slow book order.)

May the best gatherer win!

Hugs and kitties,
Jacki Frank

The winner of the signed Sandy Blair title from the Titles That Make Me Scratch My Head blog is Virginia H. Congratulations! Send me an email with your snail address. When I return from Christmas break, I’ll pop the book in the mail to you, along with a few other goodies.

So I had to pop into the grocery store last night for a few last minute gift cards. I looked at the rack of books… I always do. I saw a Harlequin Presents with a title that would make me cringe. Totally not the author’s fault, I know. It was called WILLINGLY BEDDED, FORCEFULLY WEDDED. I, personally, would have a hard time promoting that title and keeping a straight face. I’m sure it will sell like mad to the Harlequin Presents readership, by the way. But still…I wonder if these titles promote the stereotype of romance readers and writers as bon-bon eating housewives or whatever the current gripe is. It’s not really fair to lay this all at Harlequin’s door, and that’s not my intimation. Things like Sweet, Savage Love started it. I think there are plenty of titles every year that contribute.

What titles have you encountered that made you scratch your head?

The winner of a signed copy of Touch of Texas from my “A Little Holiday Cheer” blog is Angie-la. Drope me an email with your addresses and the autographed book is on its way to you!

My next giveaway is a signed copy of Sandy Blair’s A Highlander for Christmas along with an “Avid Tupping Fan” bumper sticker. It’s pretty funny…if you know what tupping means.

So you know the drill: comment on the topic at hand and I’ll register you to win the book. Go forth and comment!

Just a quick drive by, gang. I have a huge day planned! Three quick things, and I’ve got to jet.

First, in the holiday spirit, Pocket sent me this cover for Tempt Me With Darkness.

It’s not final and my awful scanner bled out most of the richness of color, but you get the general drift. I dig it. It’s edgy and he’s hot. Your thoughts?

Second, today starts my holiday blog contest. Believe it or not, people sign up for my newsletter in part to win my contest prizes. But several have gone unclaimed this year. I’ve been saving them up and every few days from now until the end of the year, I’ll give away something to someone who posts on my blog. The first prize is an autographed copy of Touch of Texas by Tracy Garrett. It’s a debut historical, and I’ve heard great things about it. To win the contest, simply comment to this blog. I’d love your input on the cover… Then I’ll pick a random winner the next time I put up a prize.

Last, I leave you with something that’s really cool. You may have seen it floating around the Internet, but if not, it’s worth the click here.

Happy holidays!

I’m going to be behind for a bit, which is nothing new, I know. But last Friday, my laptop fried and I lost all my emails and contact information. Files were mostly backed up, so I didn’t really lose books or anything. I lost a few things I dabbled with in the last few months, but nothing earth-shattering. Until now, I wasn’t sure that I’d be able to put my hands on the link and password info to update my blog. I just now found it after days of searching. Have patience with me while I try to restore the information to update the rest of my sites.

Having to get a new machine and get “moved in” has taken me the better part of the weekend. Coupled with Christmas shopping, I’m finding myself behind on my current deadline. Thanks a bunch, everyone, for your enthusiastic comments on my previous blog entry. As soon as I get all situated in this laptop, I’ll be back to it and hope to finish by the first of the year.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, now I’ve figured out how to back up all the mail and whatnot, so if my hardware fails again, I won’t find myself wondering how the hell to update my own web sites.

That title get your attention? Thought so. Pretty much anyone who hangs out here for any length of time gets a little…off center.

Anyway, with a title like this, I have to deliver, right? So here’s the scoop: I’m writing a book for Ellora’s Cave right now called DANGEROUS BOYS AND THEIR TOY. It’s a menage book I hope to have to my EC editor by January. I flew through the first few chapters pretty easily. Then I reached chapter 3 and the first sex scene. The very first contact between one of the heroes and the heroine starts on page 29 (of the manuscript–actual pages in the published book will be different, so no skipping ahead and cheating once it comes out. ) There’s a lot going on in this story, even by page 29. I envisioned something fairly lengthy when I started this scene. Juggling a whole bunch of story elements, that happens. I NEVER expected anything like this. The sex scene lasted through chapter 3 and 4…and 5. And dipped into the first part of 6! For one scene. I know, a record even for me. How many pages is that? Well, like I said, it started on page 29. It ended at the very bottom of page 84! In manuscript pages, that’s 55 big ones. Holy cow! Now, it’s not ALL sex, and there’s a lot of dialogue, along with the arrival of the second hero early in chapter 4, which takes up a little space, but the rest… You guess it–the steamy stuff. Anyone disappointed? I didn’t think so.

Want a little teaser? Since I got 50-something pages of the stuff, why not? Remember, this is all unedited and totally unapproved by my editor. It may end up on the proverbial cutting room floor…but for now, I sure enjoyed the heck out of writing it.

DANGEROUS BOYS AND THEIR TOY
by Shayla Black
Ellora’s Cave – Releast: TBD 2008

Cam didn’t finish the sentence, but palmed her breast, caressing her nipple with a gentle thumb. Already hard, her nipple now stood up straight for him. His touch burned clear to her belly…and lower.

Thorn moaned, still kneeling inches from her, his hand wrapped around her neck, the other at her hip, anchoring her close to him. And, with burning hot eyes, he was watching Cameron touch her, soothing her with a slow, repentant caress.

With an audible swallow, Thorn whispered a demand. “Kiss it and make it better.”

Cameron’s eyes flashed up to Thorn. Neither said anything for long moments. Did she want them both touching her? Would they?

God knew she’d never been more aroused in her life than she was now. Even the thought of having both man’s hands on her was broiling her insides.

Something passed between the men, a look. An understanding?

Then Cameron turned his dark stare to her. It was a question, a silent one. He wouldn’t proceed without some sign from her.

And somehow Brenna knew that speaking now would shatter the fragile situation. One wrong word or move, and someone would leave. Besides, what could she say that her body couldn’t say for her?

Brenna arched into Cameron’s hand and closed her eyes.

A moment later, warm lips pressed to the side of her breast. A soft brush of lips, a caress. Then he pursed his lips around her nipple. His soft tongue stroked her a moment later. And her head spun with amazing sensation. Desire brewed, hot and insistent, in her belly, streaking fire through her, centered under her clit. She was burning up from the inside and she loved it. A moan slipped past her lips.

Thorn captured it with his mouth.

With a gasp, Brenna took in the fact both men were kissing some part of her.

Excitement danced in her belly, burning. They’d stoked a banked fire inside her, and now it was roaring.

After trailing kisses across her cheek, Thorn nipped at her lobe, then whispered, “You look hot with Cam sucking your nipple. You like it?”

“Yes,” she blurted on a moan. “Yes.”

“Want more?”

“Please.”

Thorn cupped her other breast and teased the nipple with his thumb, watching every pull and pucker of Cameron’s mouth. He was so gentle, it didn’t hurt. Pleasure just…washed over her. And knowing Thorn loved the sight of it somehow ramped her up higher.

“Cam,” he murmured.

In response, he moaned, tugged gently on her nipple with his lips, laved one last time, then raised his gaze to her.

God, he pulled her in. His eyes were on fire, his cheeks flushed. She felt the heat radiating from him. Brenna glanced down at his jeans. No doubt about the state of his arousal.

“Cam?”

Taut and on edge, the detective cut his eyes over to Thorn. Quickly, his gaze dropped from Thorn’s face, following the line of his arm down, down. Cameron’s eyes flashed with something wild as he fixed on the sight of Thorn’s hand palming her breast. Then Thorn lifted it up, offering it to Cam.

He didn’t have to offer twice.

Happy Friday!

Here’s a (long) overdue message from that procrastinating pontificator, Romance Author Husband, better known as RAH. There’s never any telling what’s going to come out of his mouth. Could be anything from his favorite Andy Griffith episode to the best sniper position at 400 yards. Buckle your seatbelt and hang on…! This month is brief; RAH is a man of few words.

December Greetings from RAH!

I managed to put off contributing since August. That’s a record, I think! But eventually Shelley wore me down, so here I am to give you the latest inside scoop on one of your favorite authers.

Recently, Shelley had a that required my…personal attention. She told me the exact size, capacity and power required to fulfill her demands.

What did you think I was talking about? No, not that. Get your mind out of the gutter, at least for one moment–then feel free to dip right back in. I was talking about buying the right laptop.

Over the last several years we’ve invested heavily in her writing career, including a state of the art Writer’s Oasis upstairs dedicated solely to her needs. Well, that wasn’t quite enough. As many of you already know, Shell is a multi-tasking savant and while her cell phone gives some level of mobility, the ability to surf, chat and write anywhere in the house became the latest demand.

We’re all football junkies, and in the past, Shell would miss all the college and pro games shut up in her office. Now that she’s totally portable, I am pleased to say she’s not missed a game, a writing commitment or a chance to give me that “constructive criticism” she so famous for. Um…one problem: how do I get her back upstairs to her Writer’s Oasis? I can’t channel surf with my maximum efficiency with her in the room.