Silvia Violet

Archive for the ‘guest blogger’ Category

BDSM Excerpts Week – Cassandra Carr

Oct 1, 2012 Filed under: BDSM, BDSM Excerpt Week, guest blogger, m/f

Caught by Cassandra Carr

When Callie returns to her hometown for the holidays she comes face to face with her old lover and Dominant, Jack. She left him three years ago believing he could never be the happily-ever-after man she needed. Yet Jack still wants her and she finds herself wanting to submit to him again.

As Jack and Callie explore their Dominant/submissive relationship, Callie gets drawn deep into Jack’s world all over again. For his part, Jack can’t seem to forget how she nearly ruined him when she took off without even saying good-bye all those years ago, but he’s afraid his baser needs will destroy Callie.

If Callie give Jack another chance to prove he can be what she needs, can Jack overcome his own fears and claim Callie forever?

‘They’re really taking this politically correct thing too far.’

Stepping from the foyer into the living room, Callie spied a twinkling Christmas tree in the corner. On the mantel, a lit menorah burned, the candles flickering as the people nearby jostled for position as more and more guests crammed into the room. This was a boisterous crowd; already drinking like it was New Year’s. Advancing further into the room, she noticed the Kwanza decorations and rolled her eyes.

‘Pick a holiday and go with it, people. You can’t please everyone.’

She sought out the host and hostess, old friends from her grad school days, and said hello, handing over the obligatory “Thanks for inviting me” bottle of wine. They chatted for a bit to catch up before she grabbed a cocktail and made her way toward the dining room in search of other former classmates and some food. The smells of the various delicacies wafted by, making her mouth water in anticipation. She had just gotten into town and was starving. Plopping a slice of Cheddar cheese onto a cracker, she stuffed it into her mouth and then looked up — and everything inside her came to a screeching halt.

Jack was there.

With a beer hanging from his long, rough fingers, he leaned against the wall, casual as can be, while her world tilted on its axis. He looked so good– still the same tall, well-muscled body, still the same olive skin, black hair, and full lips. His Italian ancestry lent him an air of exoticness, and she’d always been a sucker for that.
Her stomach roiled. The cracker caught in her throat, choking her. As she began to cough and sputter, he turned to see what the commotion was, and their gazes met. Callie watched as his eyes went dark with heat and recognition. A blush rushed up her chest through her neck and into her face. With suddenly cold fingers, she touched her burning skin.

He brought his beer to his lips and took a long pull, his tongue sneaking out to catch a stray drop from his top lip. Her gaze followed the movement. His own intense gaze never left her face. Even when his companion said something to him, he merely nodded and kept the whole of his attention on her. She took a fortifying sip of her vodka and cranberry juice, then another, longer gulp, trying to dislodge the cracker from her throat. And still he stared.

And she did the same damn thing she’d done three years ago when she’d gotten scared by his demands, his power — she ran. Cursing herself for her cowardice, she nonetheless wove her way through the crowd, setting her drink down on the nearest available surface as she rushed past. But before she made it to the front door, she felt his hand, still chilled from holding the beer bottle, curl around her overheated arm. “Long time no see. Leaving so soon, Callie?”

He pulled her around to face him, he backed her up against the wall in the foyer. With him this close, with his touch and his smell and his sheer size surrounding her, her body betrayed her, just like it always had where he was concerned. Her nipples tightened, her pussy ached, and her breath quickened. “What are you doing here?” She sighed at her own stupidity for asking something so obvious.

“These are my friends. A better question to ask is — what are you doing here?”

“I came back to town for the holidays, and I wanted to see some of my old grad school buddies. I guess I-I didn’t think about the possibility of you being here.”

“Is me being here a problem?”

“No,” she answered too quickly.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

‘Dammit! What else am I going to admit to him?’

“I still want you. I want to touch you. I need to touch you. May I?” At her silent nod, he lightly rested his hand around her throat. Not hard enough to choke, but enough to establish his dominance over her.

‘Like he needs to establish that. How could I possibly forget who and what he is?’

Callie shivered. God, she wanted him. She’d never been as scared or as excited or felt as alive as she had during the year and a half she had subbed for Jack. Seeing him again made her want to get down on her knees and give him anything he wanted. If she remembered correctly, that was everything. But could he give it back to her? Before, he’d been unable or unwilling to, and when she hadn’t been able to handle loving him without reciprocation anymore, she’d left.

Her lips were parched, and she darted her tongue out to wet them. His eyes turned black as they blazed back at her. “I want you too.” And it was the truth. She wanted him, and this time, she’d have him. If she ran away again, she knew she’d regret it for the rest of her life.

“Are you collared?”


“Seeing anyone?”

She turned the question around. “Are you seeing anyone?” A strange look passed over his face, but Callie couldn’t interpret it before it was gone.

“No. Answer me, Callie — are you seeing anyone?”


Letting out a soft growl, Jack cupped the back of her neck in his large hand and kissed her. There was nothing gentle in his kiss — there never had been. This kiss was one of possession, of establishing even more control. He pressed in further, molding his body to hers while he continued to plunder her mouth. He didn’t force his tongue inside; he didn’t have to.

Surrendering, she relaxed and let him take her. He let out a grunt of satisfaction and changed the angle of her head so he could deepen the kiss. He slid a powerful thigh between hers as she moaned from the sensual onslaught.

After long moments he pulled away, grabbed her hand, and led her toward the back of the house. Callie gasped when he pushed her into a bedroom and kicked the door closed. She whirled around to face him but couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye, reverting to the naturally submissive pose of staring at his feet, her hands behind her back. She hadn’t subbed for anyone in the three years she’d been gone and was amazed at how quickly the submissive veil slipped over her again. He chuckled.

“My pet, you’re still a delightful submissive, I see.” He took a gentle hold on her chin and pulled her face up to his. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you, since the moment you walked into my classroom. I know I’m a selfish bastard, but I’m going to ask for this most exquisite Christmas present anyway: will you submit to me again?”

Callie nodded, too overcome with emotion to speak.

“I want to hear the words — I want you to be sure.”

“Yes, I’ll sub for you,” she managed to get out around the lump in her throat.

“Good. Then you’ll be available to me insofar as you’re able to, barring other commitments. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” she answered, the word hardly loud enough to be considered a whisper. She licked her lips again.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“By the way, I’m clean. I was tested a few months ago. You?”

“Yes, Sir, same.”

He stepped forward and shoved her to her knees. She went willingly. Callie wanted this — she wanted to show him she could handle him this time. Keeping her eyes trained on the floor, she waited for his next move. He let her stew for a minute and then pulled her to him, undoing his pants with his other hand. He guided his already-erect cock into her mouth, and she took it, letting his essence wash over her tongue, relearning the contours of the head, the smoothness of the shaft, as he sawed in and out of her mouth with brutal strokes. He’d never been easy on her, and tonight was no exception.

He pulled his still-hard cock out of her mouth, resting just the very tip on her bottom lip. “How long are you in town for?”

Callie drew back enough to answer, “Through the first of the year.”
She looked up in time to see him smile. “Excellent. We have a few weeks, then.” He thrust all the way to the back of her throat, and she struggled not to gag. He held the back of her head with both hands, forcing her to take his dick all the way to the root, and held it there for several seconds. “Where are you staying?” He pulled out again. He had always liked carrying on conversations as Callie sucked him — reinforcing his dominance by repeatedly pulling out and then shoving back into her mouth as he saw fit.

“With Lora,” she answered, naming her oldest friend.

“Ah, not far from me. I still live on Tremont. Is she going to let you play?”

“Lora lets me do whatever I want — she doesn’t judge.”

“I think I’m really going to enjoy the holidays for the first time in a long while.” He went up on tiptoe and pushed back into her mouth, tilting her head until it was at the angle he wanted, and then began ruthlessly plundering her depths. “It’s been a long time since you’ve tasted my cum, my sweet. You’re going to swallow it — every drop, like the gift it is.”

A scant few seconds later, Callie felt his cock swelling even larger, growing even longer, and then after pulling back until only his cockhead remained inside her mouth, he was coming; straining, as jet after jet of warm, salty liquid shot onto her tongue and slid down her throat. When he was finally spent, he withdrew completely and put himself back together. She remained on her knees, the denim of her jeans little protection from the hardwood floor.

Some might say she gave in too easily, but as Callie considered the man before her who’d turned her world upside down now for the second time, she knew that wasn’t true. Not at all. Her soul was at peace for the first time in years. She was a different person than she’d been all those years ago. Callie was what and where she needed to be: she just had to figure out how to hold on to the fragile sense of contentment she’d discovered tonight.

He briefly stroked the side of her face, then leaned down to touch his lips to hers. “Give me your number.” She started to reach into the purse that had fallen beside her on the floor. He chuckled. “You may rise.” Standing up with her purse, she pulled a small sheet from the memo pad she always kept with her. “Still jotting notes, I see.”

“Yes, you never know where or when you’ll find inspiration,” she answered, quoting one of his own mantras back to him. After writing down her cell phone number, she handed him the paper.

He held up it and kissed it. “I’ll be in touch.” After taking one last look at her, he left the room.

She sat down on the bed, touching the tips of her fingers to her lips. Undoubtedly he thought he’d scored a great coup, bringing her back into his fold. Little did he realize, though… Sometimes the hunter becomes the hunted.
Copyright 2011, Cassandra Carr

Guest Author: Angel Martinez

Aug 15, 2012 Filed under: guest blogger, m/m, sci fi

I’m welcome the lovely Angel Martinez to my humble abode this morning! Grab some coffee or tea and settle in to learn more about her upcoming release, Sub Zero

Those Creeping Fingers of Memory…

When I was little, televisions were pieces of furniture. They often came in wood and cloth consoles, reception was through antennae, and one changed the channel by (gasp!) getting up and turning the knob. There were perhaps four of them, or possibly five, depending on the signal.

The arrival of cable in our house was a cause of much excitement (on our part) and trepidation (on my mother’s.) Suddenly, there were several more choices. Cartoons! Movies! Really bad commercials! With this sudden invasion came Channel 17 out of Philadelphia and, on Saturdays, Wee Willy Webber’s show. For those of you not from back East, Mr. Webber was a radio personality and then TV host of several shows on many channels over the years – one of those voices that was soothing, friendly and entertaining all at once. The show in question was a Saturday Matinee sort of affair where he showed old Science Fiction and Horror movies – a little intro, sometimes a little serial short (Flash Gordon, Buck Rogers) – and then the MOVIE!

A friend recently asked me if classic SF movies had influenced my writing. Yes and no. Obviously, I’m interested in more advanced science than 1950’s cinema, but the fact is that these movies from childhood seeped into my brain. I know that. The images, the feel, the atmosphere all stayed with me, consciously or not. Sure I loved classic horror. The Boris Karloff Frankenstein, (“It’s alive!”) Bela Lugosi’s Dracula, The Mummy, The Invisible Man, adored them all. But I loved best the weeks when Mr. Webber’s movies were about space and radiation, mutants and time travel.

Early influences are inescapable, whether we acknowledge them or not. Some of the underground scenes from my novel, Gravitational Attraction, owe a great deal to Forbidden Planet, to that sense of awe and wonder I felt at finally seeing the alien underground installation. Visions of cityscapes in Vassily the Beautiful have much to do with those early futuristic city skylines in Metropolis and The Shape of Things to Come.

And my need to return to cold landscapes, in the case of my latest, Sub Zero, even Arctic? Ah, there are echoes of The Thing there, not so much the terror of it but the isolation and eerie beauty.

I don’t consciously channel those old movies I love so dearly, but they’re in there, the images curled around my gray matter. And it wonderful.


Sub Zero

M/M Science Fiction Mystery

Launching 8/19 at Amber Allure!










Always send the right man for the job – even if he’s been dead for a hundred years.


Major Aren Dalsgaard’s newest assignment is to investigate a series of murders on the frigid planet, Drass, where relations between Treaty settlers and natives have deteriorated. A linguist and trained xenologist, Aren should be ideal for the assignment. The problem? It’s where he died, a century ago.

Sent by his family to the chigyel city, Nyachung faces a murder charge, racial prejudice, and a man who claims to be a hero from his grandmother’s generation. The man could be crazy or lying. But the sincerity in those spring-green eyes disturbs Nyachung more than anything else in the foreigners’ city.



Thuds and muffled screams came from the lab up ahead, only serving to underscore the sergeant’s anxiety. Aren bulled through the door and skidded to a stop, speechless in shock. Nyachung lay on his back on the gurney, stripped to the waist, arms stretched out to either side and strapped down to extensions. The staff had shoved something soft between his teeth, either to keep him from breaking them or to keep him from screaming too loud, and they had electro-pulse leads attached to his forearms, directly over the venom sacs and spur pads. The shocks from the hookup came in pairs, the first forcibly extending his arm spurs and the second zapping the sac in an attempt to force the venom out.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Aren bellowed.

The tech stared at him, nonplussed. “Getting your venom sample, sir.”

“By torturing him?”

“It’s standard operating procedure, sir.”

“Since when is physical abuse standard procedure in any branch of the service?”

Sergeant Wickstrom gave him a little nudge. “Sir, use of force in the obtaining of information or cooperation is up to the discretion of the facility commander. It’s in the manuals.”

“In the—you must be joking.”

“Afraid not, sir.”

Aren rubbed both hands over his face. “God. Barbaric century.” Then he stalked over to the tech. “Unhook him, please. Not only is this inefficient, it’s inhumane. Do you have any idea, Corporal, how sensitive those venom sacs are?”

The hapless corporal gulped a breath. “I…don’t know, sir.”

“Imagine hooking one of those damn things up to your testicles and then shoving another up your urethra. That should give you some idea.”

“Yes, sir.”

The poor tech had turned green. Aren patted his shoulder, not wanting the boy to pass out. “Just turn it off. Unhook him. There’s a better way to do this. Several, actually. You could have just asked him for a sample, but now that he’s a shuddering mess, he’ll need some help.”

While the tech unhooked the leads, Aren went around the gurney undoing straps.

“Sir, you know he’s a murder suspect, right?”

“Oh, yes. Terribly dangerous, I’m sure. Maybe you should stand back. Safety first.” Aren perched hipshot on the edge of the gurney and gathered Nyachung into his arms as he switched to dangpo. “Are you with me, little one?”

“Why are they doing this?” Nyachung tangled both fists in the front of Aren’s jacket, shaking uncontrollably.

“Sh, sh, they want some of your venom. To compare it to the venom in the woman you found. If it’s not your venom, then you didn’t kill her.”

A hoarse sound, more sob than laugh came from the little tale-singer. “They could have said so.”

“Yes, they should have.” Aren held up a collection tube. “Can you do it on your own?”

Nyachung held out one shaking arm, well away from Aren. He curled his fingers, forearm muscles contracting. “I can’t,” he gasped out.

Gently, Aren placed his hand under Nyachung’s elbow. “Will you let me help you? I know we’re strangers and this is in front of others, but it would be better than their way.”

Black eyes gazed up at him, wet with unshed tears of pain. “All right. Do you… Have you done this?”

“I have.” Aren massaged his thumb over the tense forearm muscles a moment. Then he reached around, encircling Nyachung with his arms, partially hiding him from prying eyes. He pressed gently on the pad with his thumb, pushing the arm spur out as one would a cat’s claw. Keeping the pressure constant and the collection tube held over the spur in two fingers, he turned his attention to the venom sac. Besides the obvious places, this was the most sensitive spot on a dangpo male’s body.

He caressed the tender, abused skin, barely holding back the urge to curl forward and kiss the spot where the electro-pulse had been. Nyachung made a sweet, whimpering sound that shot straight to his balls and Aren hoped he was holding the stone-faced expression he was trying for. He began to massage the sac, his thumb describing slow, gentle circles. Nyachung twitched in his arms.

“Easy, little one, easy. As soon as you’re able.”

With a soft cry, Nyachung hid his face against Aren’s chest, his body shuddering with pain as he released his venom. His poor sacs would most likely be tender for days but he had managed enough to fill the tube…



Ravaged Author Blog Hop – Annabeth Leong and DF Krieger

Aug 3, 2012 Filed under: book release, guest blogger, interview, paranormal, shapeshifter, web event, werewolf

Ravaged Promo Blog Hop – 5 blogs, 10 authors, 10 copies to be won!

Welcome to the Ravaged Author Blog Hop

To celebrate the release of Ravaged this weekend the authors have done a little Q&A hosted by five of the authors on their blogs.

Each blog features two interviews and if you comment you have a chance to win one of 10 PDF copies of Ravaged kindly donated by all the authors.

The blog links can be found below so please go and check out all the interviews.

An Interview with Annabeth Leong

About the Story

Title of your story, main characters and what it is about?

Title: The Arcadian Cure

Main characters: Kyle, Melissa, and the mysterious innkeeper Mrs. Stavrou.

Summary: A mysterious innkeeper’s warnings are part of the spooky thrill Kyle hopes to get when he climbs to the ruined altar of Zeus at the top of Greece’s Mt. Lykaion. The thrill turns to terror when Kyle returns from his expedition with the curse of the wolf. His girlfriend Melissa turns to the innkeeper for help, and discovers that the traditional “Arcadian cure” for the curse calls for sexual adventures far beyond what the couple has previously dared to try.


Where did you get the inspiration for your story?

I love researching myths and folklore in preparation for writing a story. I looked up a bunch of stuff about werewolves, and discovered that the ancient Greeks and Romans believed exhaustion could cure lycanthropy. In my story, the cure for the curse of the wolf requires a very particular kind of exhaustion…


Favorite line:

“Surely, you have seen what happens to a man after he spends his essence. That’s exhaustion. But be warned. The wolf is more…vigorous…than any normal man.”


About the Author


How long have you been writing and how did you become a writer?

I’ve been writing all my life, and I believe a person becomes a writer by practicing writing. Anyone who sits down and puts in the time on a regular basis deserves the title. I’ve been writing and publishing erotica specifically for about three years. For me, that was an exercise in self-acceptance. I let go of my ideas of what I ought to be writing and started writing what I wanted to write. It’s been tremendously freeing.


Have you got anything else out/due out?

In October, Breathless will publish my werewolf novelette, Not His Territory. It’s based on a different conception of werewolves from that in “The Arcadian Cure.” In Not His Territory, werewolves as a society are weighed down by legalistic traditions meant to keep their animal natures in line. The story is about the woman who inspires a Werewolf Council investigator to break out of that culture of restriction.


My other work includes The Six Swans, an erotic retelling of  the fairy tale, published by Coming Together; The Snake and the Lyre, an exploration of the shame and desire at the heart of the myth of Orpheus, published by Forbidden Fiction; and “Violets,” a modern-day lesbian fantasy about love spells, published in Circlet Press’s Like Hearts Enchanted. I write a lot of types of erotica, but it’s often based on folklore, or kinky, or lesbian, or some combination.

I keep a full list of available and forthcoming stories on my blog, http://www.annabethleong.blogspot.com/ and welcome anyone interested in other work to check it out. It’s currently running down the right side of the front page.


Top tip for writing/publishing?

The part of the process that a writer has control over is the writing. I recommend scheduling regular time to write and sticking to it. A person can’t help but get better at writing with frequent, faithful practice. Having a solid foundation of regular writing is the only way I can handle acceptance, rejection, revisions, and all the administration and emotion that go along with publishing.


Just for Fun

If you were a shifter what animal would you change into?

A wolf. I like the classics.


Favorite food and drink?

I am like a little kid. I love pizza, french fries, and milkshakes.


Favorite movie?

A short list: Tombstone, Legally Blonde, Clueless, and The Warrior’s Way. I have two quite opposite streaks of appreciation.


Boxers or Briefs?



Finish this sentence: I have never…

I have never worked my way through The Kama Sutra.


Stalker Links:

Blog: http://www.annabethleong.blogspot.com/

Twitter: @AnnabethLeong

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Annabeth-Leong/e/B007UUBXJU/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1343061693&sr=8-2-ent

E-mail: annabeth.leong@gmail.com


An Interview with DF Krieger

About the Story

Title of your story, main characters and what it is about?

Her Pride My Joy is about the BDSM style sexual relationship between a zookeeper named Tina and a shape shifting lioness named Kenya


Where did you get the inspiration for your story?

I often wonder what a zoo would be like after dark.


Favorite line:

She’d learned long ago that the darkness boasted things—creatures—that could be as cruel as they were kind.


About the Author

How long have you been writing and how did you become a writer?

I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember. I don’t know how I became a writer, there’s been a book in my head and a pencil in my hand since I could draw and long before I could read.


Have you got anything else out/due out?

Quite a few books in both regards. You can check my website for me details.


Top tip for writing/publishing?

Edit your work before you send it to a publisher. Too often a manuscript is turned away because an author didn’t bother to even run a spell check.


Just for Fun

If you were a shifter what animal would you change into?

A panther, for sure!


Favorite food and drink?

Iced tea or Coca Cola and Long Grain Wild Rice (Uncle Ben’s Brand)


Favorite movie?

Practical Magic


Boxers or Briefs?



Finish this sentence: I have never…

Poked a badger with a spork.


Stalker Links:




Guest Blogger – Robin Covington

Jul 2, 2012 Filed under: book recommendation, guest blogger

Welcome today’s guest, Robin Covington. Grab a cup of coffee or tea and settle in while she shares a little about herself and her debut release, A Night of Southern Comfort. Then comment below for a chance to win a copy!

Robin, tell us about your latest release.  A Night of Southern Comfort is a book about a one night stand that becomes so much more. Jack and Michaela are people who only allow themselves the lives they think they deserve—which isn’t much.  When they finally allow themselves to want more, they get it all.

One night of passion… 

Detective Jackson Cantrell never imagined that one night with an irresistible stranger would turn his life upside down. He’s spent years living in the shadows, but Dr. Michaela Roarke awakened a passion inside him he’d buried years ago.

He never expected the woman would turn out to be the governor’s daughter…and his next assignment. The governor blackmails Jackson to secretly watch over Michaela and protect her from a stalker, or kiss his dream job at the FBI good-bye. Swearing to keep things strictly professional, Jackson moves in with Michaela. Too bad his heart can’t keep the same promise.

But when the stalker’s attacks quickly escalate beyond mere photographs to bodily harm, Jackson must race to save Michaela’s life. And he’ll have to figure out how to keep her once she discovers his lie.


Tell us about one of your characters and how he or she developed in your imagination? 

Dr. Michaela Roarke is the daughter of an ambitious and high-profile politician and she’s tired of living in the spotlight and under her father’s domineering thumb. This book is about her finally taking charge of her future and making it happen.  She popped into my head after a conversation with the Main Man about how all of these celebrities who choose to live in the spotlight and their poor kids who are forced to live in it because of who their parents are.  I wondered how far they would go to live their lives on their own terms and out of the shadow of their parents.


Is there a style or genre of writing that you haven’t tried yet but you’d like to explore?

Well, you know that I love male/male romance. It is my go-to genre to read for pleasure but I’ve never written it — I’m too intimidated.  But, I’m thinking I might just have to try it in the future. I also am completely floored by steampunk – I don’t think I have the skill set for it.  Wish I did, though.  I wrote for many years before I tried m/m. I wrote several m/m/f stories first. And I love steampunk.


How do you make time in your life for writing?

I work full-time as an attorney, I’m married and have two young children.  I write in the evenings after the kids are in bed and I spend time with the Main Man.  I go into my writing cave at around 9:30 and write until midnight or so.  I try to take care of my social media stuff during my lunch hour.  I admire you for being able to write after a very full day of work and family time!


What do you like to read? Do you have some favorite authors?

I like a story that is steamy – it can be in any genre.  But, I find that tend to go to male/male romance, romantic comedy, and contemporary.  I do not care for overly angsty books—life is stressful enough.  My favorite authors are Harper Fox, Jill Shalvis, Robin Kaye, Hank Edwards, and Susan Elizabeth Phillips.


If you decide to take a Saturday off, what are we likely to find you doing?

In the summer, I am at the pool with my kids.  They have chlorine running through their veins!  In the winter or spring, I’m usually at kid’s sports, the library, birthday parties etc.  Add in the grocery story and laundry and that just about sums it up!


Choose six adjectives to describe yourself.

Chatty, sarcastic, musical, loyal, affectionate, and southern


Describe the perfect meal.

Fried chicken, North Caroline style BBQ, hot slaw (slaw with Tabasco sauce in it) hush puppes, French fries and sweet tea. (Note: the “southern” adjective listed above) I love your answer. I was raised on NC style BBQ and sweet tea!


If you were a dessert what would you be and why?

Vanialla soft serve ice cream with caramel sauce. I’m a classic type person. I have a lot of sweater sets in my closet.


What question haven’t I asked that you wish I had?

Is Elliott, VA – the town in my book – real?  Yes, in part. I grew up in Danville, VA and went to college in Staunton, VA.  Elliott and the people in the town are hybrids of all my life experiences and the people in my life.  It was a labor of love to create the town.


A Night of Southern Comfort by Robin Covington



One night of passion… 

Detective Jackson Cantrell never imagined that one night with an irresistible stranger would turn his life upside down. He’s spent years living in the shadows, but Dr. Michaela Roarke awakened a passion inside him he’d buried years ago.

He never expected the woman would turn out to be the governor’s daughter…and his next assignment. The governor blackmails Jackson to secretly watch over Michaela and protect her from a stalker, or kiss his dream job at the FBI good-bye. Swearing to keep things strictly professional, Jackson moves in with Michaela. Too bad his heart can’t keep the same promise.

But when the stalker’s attacks quickly escalate beyond mere photographs to bodily harm, Jackson must race to save Michaela’s life. And he’ll have to figure out how to keep her once she discovers his lie.



Mr. Sex-on-a-Stick took his last shot and accepted the congratulatory thumps on the back from his friends. He didn’t smile in response, just quirked his full, sensual lips and turned to face her head-on with an expression full of hot promise. Catcalls and low whistles from his friends drifted across the crowded bar.

Come on, handsome. Don’t let me strike out at my first real bar pickup.

The breath she didn’t realize she was holding whooshed out as he separated himself from his friends and headed over to her. His movements were precise, controlled, and deliciously predatory. He possessed the confident demeanor of either military or law enforcement. He definitely wasn’t a paper-pushing warlord or a politico. Years of experience trained her to spot those guys a mile away. No, his mask of control was one born of the need for survival, much like hers.

Okay, big boy. You let me peek behind yours and I’ll let you peek behind mine.

He stopped in front of her, his thigh brushing her leg and setting off a series of sparks underneath her skin. His chocolate brown eyes met hers, filled with the assurance of decadent possibilities.

Michaela opened her mouth and shut it again. Now that he was here, she had no idea what to say. What would Angelina do? Channel your inner Jolie.

She cleared her throat. The result was a sultry, sexy voice she didn’t know she possessed. “May I buy you a drink?”

He glanced at the glass in her hand and nodded.

“A Southern Comfort.” She spoke in the general direction of the bartender, unable to tear herself away from her companion. “Neat.”

He slid onto the stool next her, his leg still against hers and her temperature hovering near the boiling point. He leaned on the bar, creating their own intimate circle as the noise of the busy bar faded into the background. His lips curved into a slight smile.

“Is there something funny?”

“No. Not at all.” His deep voice rumbled in her ear, his warm breath grazed her cheek. “I didn’t take you for the whiskey type.”

“And what type am I?”

He leaned back, examining her ice-blue satin, strapless cocktail dress and matching Manolo Blahnik pumps. She squirmed in her seat as her body responded to the desire pulsing between them.

“Honestly?” He cocked his head. “You strike me as the chardonnay type. A proper drink for a proper lady.”

She laughed. Any other night, his description would have been close to the mark. “Whiskey’s a drink of control and power.” She took another sip and caught his stare over the rim of her glass.

“I see.” He lifted his glass and downed the contents, then turned his full attention back to her. “So…why are you drinking alone?”

“I’m not drinking alone. Now.” Michaela gestured toward his drink and ordered him another when he nodded.

“Okay, so you’re here…?”

“Celebrating my new life.”

“Aahhh.” He lifted his glass to her in salute. “Let me be the first to say that your ex-husband is an idiot.”



On her fortieth birthday, Robin Covington decided that having a mid-life crisis and finding a boy-toy were far too tacky, so she delved a little deeper into the “bucket list” and pulled out the long-shelved dream of becoming an author. Now, she spends her time writing sizzling romance where the hero and heroine can’t keep their hands off each other.

She doesn’t miss the boy-toy at all.

Robin is a member of the Romance Writers of America, the Washington Romance Writers, a faculty member at Romance University, a member of the Waterworld Mermaids, and a guest contributor to the Happy Ever After blog at USA Today.

Robin lives in Maryland with her hilarious husband, brilliant children, and ginormous puppy.  You can find Robin on her website, Facebook,  and Twitter (@RobinCovington).




A Sexy Mind Blog Hop – Matty and Jay from Always MJ

Apr 24, 2012 Filed under: book release, contemporary, guest blogger, interview, m/m, Sexy Mind Blog Hop

It’s Day 2 of the A Sexy Mind Blog Hop and I’m thrilled to welcome SJD Peterson (Jo) to my blog. Actually Jo doesn’t really get any screen time today. Matty and Jay, the very intriguing heroes of Always MJ, have taken over and they’re answering some questions and heating things up. But first, here’s a little more about their story.

Always MJ by SJD Peterson


Matthew Jonathon Parker planned every aspect of his day. From the time he woke up until the exact minute he crawled back into bed, his day was set. He wasn’t the kind of man to seek out other men in chat rooms. He certainly wasn’t the type to fall in love with someone he only knew from typed words.

After a six-month online affair, Matty agrees to meet Jay in Florida for a weekend getaway. Only Jay isn’t what Matty expected; although, perhaps he should have known it was too good to be true.

After all, Jay’s screen name AlwaysMJ stands for ‘Always making jokes’–or does it?


And now on to the interview….

Do you have a nickname? What is it, and where did you get it?

MJ:  Matty. I’ve always been called Matty, it’s just short for Matthew.

J: None I can say here. I promised Matty I’d behave.


What do you wear when you go to sleep?

J: Matty.

MJ: What the hell? You can’t wear me.

J: Sure I can. You drape yourself all over me like a blanket. Matty is a major cuddler. No clothes allowed in our bed. I love neekid cuddling.

MJ: ~blushes~


In your opinion, what is your best feature? What is your partner’s best feature?

MJ: My best feature is my brain for sure.

J: Pfft, his ass is by far his best feature.

MJ: You said you love my eyes.

J: Yeah I did, I said I love looking into your eyes when I’m pounding—

MJ: ~glares~ Shut it!!

J: So what’s my best feature?

MJ: I was going to say your mouth, but that will only get you talking all naughty again, so I’ll go with eyes.
Do you have a job? What is it? Do you like it? If no job, where does your money come from?

MJ: Director of Finance and yeah I like my job.

J: Kept man.

MJ: You are not. He’s a software consultant; he just wishes he were a kept man since he hates traveling.

J: No I don’t hate traveling, I hate leaving you.

MJ: Interview over? That needs a special kind of thank you.

J: Not yet, but hot damn I’m getting lucky after this!
What is your boss or employer like?

MJ: He can be a pain in the ass sometimes. Always wanting to know what I’m doing, where I’ve been, when I’m coming over for dinner.

J: Yeah your dad is worse than your mom is. Matty is a daddy’s boy! My boss on the other hand is super-hot, great in bed and a fricken genius.

M: Ego much?

J: You saying I’m not super-hot and great in bed?
Do you tend to save or spend your money? Why?

MJ: I’m a finance specialist, of course I save money. Not any easy thing to do with him around.

J: I like to keep up on the latest technologies.

MJ: No you have a freaky electronics fetish.

J: How else am I going to make, edit and share my homemade porn videos?

MJ: What!

J: Simmer down tiger, I’m only kidding.  ~whispers~ about the sharing part.
What song is “your song?” Why?

MJ: Closer to the Edge by 30 seconds to Mars. Fricken love that song, no regrets and I’m living my life the way I want.

J: Oh good song choice, Matty.

MJ: Thanks and yours is?

J: Let’s get it on, by Marvin Gaye and duh!  ~starts singing to Matty~ “Don’t you know how sweet and wonderful life can be? I’m asking you, baby, to get it on with me”

MJ: Hell yeah!  Interview is over!  Bye!

J: ~Races after Matty~

I can’t wait to learn more about these guys! I bet you can’t either. If you’d like to be entered to win a copy of the book, leave a comment with your email and the answer to this question: What is Matty (MJ)’s job?

If you missed the blog hop kick off with Blake and Greg from Astronomical, hop on over to Freddy MacKay’s blog and check it out. Then tomorrow, head to Jo’s blog for a taste of Freddy’s men from Moving Mountains.

Guest Blogger: Talia Carmichael

Apr 10, 2012 Filed under: guest blogger

Today I’m welcoming author Talia Carmichael to my blog. She’s agreed to answer some questions about herself and her writing.

Tell us about your latest release.

Talia:  After the Fall  (The Right Choice #1) is about meeting someone who unexpectedly becomes part of your life. They become important to you but you won’t admit it. At least not until you realize that you have fell for them. Then you go forward After the Fall.

Leigh Masters is a bookstore owner who is having problems with the company he hired to renovate his store and apartment. Leigh doesn’t do relationships and is very outspoken when it comes to what he wants.

Malcolm Snipes is one of the owners of the company who is working with Leigh. He is used to being professional and knows when he wants something he goes after it. He knows Leigh is stubborn but he’s fine with getting around that attitude.

What is your favorite genre to write? What other genres do you enjoy?

Talia: All of them. So far the books I have contracted are in the contemporary genre however I do write in most other genres.  I enjoy them all. Each brings something different. I write based on what characters move me to write. I enjoy a good story and don’t really think about genre.

Do you have a favorite character from one of your books?

Talia: Uh huh not answering this. LOL. Answering this, is like trying to choose between who is your favorite child or niece/nephew, sibling, parent. Not a question I can answer in all honesty. I think it is best to leave it to the readers.

Is there a style or genre of writing that you haven’t tired yet but you’d like to explore?

Talia: No there isn’t any style or genre that I want to try that I haven’t. If I come up with a story no matter up in a genre or style I try it. It might not ever see the light of day but I do try it.  LOL.

How do you make time in your life for writing?

Talia: Writing is an integral part of my life. I have a schedule I work by. This is my lifeline so I can get my books written. The schedule has built in “me time” which is when I take a break from writing. It can range from a day or two to weeks. I do nothing that has to do with my writing or anything to do with it during that time. This helps me keep from burning out.

When I’m writing I write a certain word count a day and anything over that word count is a “whoo hooo I’ve done more day”. I have an idea of how long it will take me to finish a book – not word count wise since each book word count goes based on story – and I set that time aside in my schedule. Even if I have a whoo hooo over word count day I still meet my word count the next day. Sometimes this means I finish a book earlier than planned. If I do complete the book earlier the days I have left in my schedule for the book becomes “take a break days”. I love those unexpected days so I tend to push myself to work harder to get the book completed. Some days due to other things in my life I don’t always get to make that word count but I don’t stress about it. 🙂 If I need to take what was a writing day and not get to write I just check my schedule and adjust it. I basically shift a break time day and make it a writing day.  So having a schedule works to keep me going.

What do you like to read? Do you have some favorite authors?

Talia: I’m an avid reader and read in every genre. As long as the book captures my attention I’m reading it.  It goes according to what mood I’m in.  I could feel like reading historical romances, sci-fi, urban fantasy, thrillers, romantic suspense, romance (every kind of genre), true crime, mystery, mainstream, fiction or any other numbers of genre and sub genre out there.

Reading is fun and relaxes me. And there is no way I can list my favorite authors there is too many to list in all the genre of books I read.

If you decide to take a Saturday off, what are we likely to find you doing?

Talia: I curl up on my couch surrounded by movies and books. I’ll rotate between reading and watching movies. I’d order in and just chill out as I enjoy some of my favorite pastimes. Reading and movies.

Choose six adjectives to describe yourself.

Talia: Okay hmm… Shy, geeky, caramel obsessed, family-oriented, genuine, weirdly wacky stranger person.

I think I went over and strung some words together. LOL.

Describe the perfect meal.

Talia: Cheesy mashed potato and pot roast with a veggie on the side. Root Beer Soda. For dessert: something that has caramel.

If you were a dessert what would you be and why?
Talia: Something caramel. I don’t know if you realized it yet but I love caramel. LOL.

Where can we find you on the web?

Talia: Theses are places to find me.
Website: http://taliacarmichael.com

Blog: http://taliacarmichael.com/blog

Newsletter: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/taliacarmichael

And excerpt from After the Fall


After the Fall
 by Talia Carmichael


A renovation brings two men together who will find that unexpected meetings can bring about the most tempting of encounters. As the contractor works on getting the project in on time he also has his sights set on building something with the owner.

Leigh Masters is concerned the renovation of Masters Pages – his bookstore – will not be completed in time. He’s losing his cool. A call to find the contractor hired brings unexpected results. The man doing his project has run off. In his place Malcolm – his brother and the owner of the company – comes to see Leigh. The man makes Leigh feel off-kilter. He has his doubts about Malcolm’s assurances that the job will be done on time. As the renovation progresses he finds it hard to resist temptation of the man who is now in charge of renovating his bookstore. Malcolm knows what he’s doing but Leigh wants to shake up his quiet, calm persona to see what he has hidden underneath. 

Malcolm Snipes has worked alongside his brothers to build Snipes Construction, their family owned business. He strives to maintain their reputation of providing excellent work, on time projects and being a professional. He’s tired of picking up the messes of one of his irresponsible brothers. Except this time the call he gets from an irate client brings him in the path of a man who is fascinating. This time Malcolm won’t mind taking over the renovation since he can keep an eye on sharp-tongued and sexy Leigh Masters.

This renovation is about to become very interesting as they each wonder what happens after the fall…


Malcolm put his cell phone back in its case, eyes still on Leigh’s back. Although Malcolm had no clue what it was about this man that drew him, he would pursue it. After they’d finished the job. That only gave him an added incentive to get things done on time. Not that he needed it—he didn’t work any other way.

With that in mind, Malcolm finished moving the boxes. As he piled them in the dining area, he could feel Leigh watching him. A small grin curled his lips. Yep—he couldn’t wait to get this job completed and get to know Mr Masters better. His shaft hardened, very much in agreement with the idea. Malcolm placed the last box on the pile and turned to Leigh…and caught him watching him.

“Ready to show me the rest?”

Leigh nodded and got off the stool. Malcolm walked behind him, appreciating the curve of his ass. The constriction in his jeans got tighter. Malcolm stifled a groan. Yep—this project would be a test of his professionalism and control.

* * * *

Four weeks later, Malcolm wiped off his forehead and sat back on his heels. He glanced at the crown moulding he was putting up. It gave the store a classy look. Malcolm rolled his shoulders. He’d let the guys go for the night. They had been working hard, pushing to get stuff done.

“I said, that is not acceptable.” Leigh’s voice sounded from the counter not far from where Malcolm was working.

Malcolm recognised the tone as the one Leigh had used on him that first time. He turned his head and watched Leigh who was sitting behind the counter, on the phone. He was in a button-down, short-sleeved shirt the colour of his eyes. Without seeing the bottom half of his body, Malcolm would bet he was in some kind of slacks and loafers. Since he’d meet Leigh, Malcolm couldn’t remember ever seeing him in jeans, boots or sneakers. Leigh’s pants even had a perfect crease down the front.

“I’m opening in four weeks and you will have the display set-ups I ordered here as you promised. By next week.” Leigh hung up.

Malcolm strode over to him. Leigh glanced up. When he was in front of the counter, Malcolm leaned against it.

“At least you didn’t threaten him with your lawyer.”

“I reserve that for special occasions. Namely wayward contractors. And it worked. You’ve done a lot in the last few weeks. But I still I have my doubts you’ll be finished on time. At least using the lawyer card worked to get the work moving forward. It whipped you into shape. ” Leigh smirked.

“You’ve got a sharp tongue when you’re angry.”

“Then don’t make me angry,” Leigh retorted.

“I could think of a lot of things you could do with your tongue.” Malcolm watched Leigh’s lips as he said it.

They parted and his tongue swiped out, wetting them. Malcolm raised his gaze. Leigh’s blue eyes were intent. Malcolm debated for a moment whether he should do the professional thing and walk away. It was only four more weeks until he could ask Leigh out.

Malcolm wasn’t sure who moved first. He reached for Leigh, and Leigh seemed to launch himself out of his chair and onto his knees on the counter. Malcolm slid his hands over Leigh’s waist and pulled him across the marble surface.

Copyright © Talia Carmichael, 2012.
All Rights Reserved.

Order Link – http://www.total-e-bound.com/authordetail.asp?A_ID=167

Bear Talk Blog Tour – Johnny Miles (NSFW)

Feb 28, 2012 Filed under: Bear Talk, bears, excerpts, eye candy, guest blogger, m/m, web event

Welcome to the Bear Talk Blog Tour. Johnny Miles is here with me today to share some thoughts about bears and share an excerpt from his wonderful book, The Rosas of Spanish Harlem. When you’re done, see the bottom of the post for links to more Bear Talk goodness.

Be sure to leave a comment for the chance to win an e-book version of The Rosas of Spanish Harlem!

I’ve always known I was different from other boys. I just had this innate feeling about it but was never able to verbalize, let alone think it to myself. I lacked the words at such a young age.

But here are some ironies for you to ponder.

Even from before I ever saw “The Wizard of Oz” my favorite animals were, and still are, lions and tigers and bears. As for my favorite childhood movie, you’re correct if you guessed “The Wizard of Oz.” Looking back, these may or may not have been indicative of the gay man I would eventually become.

But wait. Here are two more ironies. (more…)

Guest Blogger: LM Brown

Feb 14, 2012 Filed under: guest blogger, m/m

For the Birds by LM Brown

Welcome to the fourth day of my blog tour in celebration of Valentine’s Day and also my newly released Valentine’s Day themed short story.

Today I thought I’d look at the Valentine’s traditions surrounding birds – no, not women, as men in this country are wont to call us – as in the beaked and feathered kind.

Birds and Valentine’s Day have long been tied together, but I’m not just talking about lovebirds, although they, along with doves have traditionally been associated with Valentine’s Day.

Traditions are strange things, I’m sure you’ll agree, but back in olden times they were taken very seriously and it wouldn’t be unusual for a young woman to be looking out through the keyhole of her house on the morning of Valentine’s Day.  What they saw through the keyhole would determine whether or not they remained single, had a love interest or married in the coming year.  If they saw a single object or person then they would remain single, if they saw two or more objects or persons they would have a sweetheart, and if they saw a cock (get your minds out of the gutter people) and hen then they would marry before the year was out.

I can’t say I’ve ever peeked out through the keyhole on Valentine’s Day or any other, but the chances of seeing any poultry is pretty slim around here.

Another Valentine tradition surrounding our feathered friends is for single women to look and see what bird is flying over her head because it would tell her what sort of man she was going to marry.

Robin = a sailor – no idea on the logic of that one at all.

Sparrow = a poor man or farmer (which may be one and the same) but be happy.

Goldfinch (or any yellow bird) = a rich man.

Blackbird = a priest – sounds like some very naughty goings on in that case.

Any blue bird = a happy man.

Dove = a loving man.

Woodpecker = will not marry.  So best to avoid those ones if you can!

Now I have to wonder if a Bluetit would be the bird to look out for since that would seem to indicate a happy rich husband.

In any event all the women out there should apparently take up bird-watching, just to make sure we get it right.  Though I’m pretty sure the only bird we get around here that I would even recognise if it flew over me is a sparrow – since they are so common here – so I guess I better make my own money since I won’t be marrying into wealth.

Thankfully for the two heroes of my Valentine’s Day story, they don’t have to resort to looking for birds – neither the feathered kind or the female variety.  They are very much gay and there aren’t too many traditions for the homosexual community for Valentine’s Day.  Though considering some of the traditions out there, I am guessing most of them are quite grateful for the fact.


Can a wrong number lead to Mr Right? Nick Davis’s life takes an unexpected turn when a stranger starts leaving messages on his answer machine. Is there hope Nick can become more to Connor Hayes than just a wrong number?


Nick Davis stumbled from his bedroom into the kitchen, cringing at the bright sunlight of the January morning. He snapped the blinds down, causing him to simultaneously sigh with relief at the more subdued light and groan at the sound, which echoed far too loudly for his liking. Every step he took was careful and measured, so as not to make his aching head pound any more than necessary. He spared a glance at the blinking red light on the answering machine: a new message. Suspecting it to be a slightly belated Happy New Year greeting, and probably a loud one, Nick left it for the moment. He headed for the fridge and a hangover cure in the form of hair of the dog, also known as a nice cold beer.

Damn, what did I do last night? He remembered meeting his mates at The Red Lion for a night out on the town. They’d had a few drinks there before moving on to The Royal Oak. Then they’d headed out to the city, where things started to get a little hazy. He did recall Marc screaming Happy New Year down the phone at least an hour early, but midnight itself was a complete blank. He supposed he should be thankful he’d made it home in one piece, and hadn’t woken up to find a strange man in his bed this morning.

After nursing his hangover until mid-afternoon Nick finally remembered the message and hit the play button.

“Hey, baby! Happy New Year! Missing you already. I can’t wait to see you again. Give me a call to let me know you got back safely. Love you.”

Nick frowned at the answer machine. He didn’t recognise the voice of the soft-spoken man on the other end of the phone. Chalking it up to someone too inebriated to dial correctly, he deleted the message and promptly forgot about it.

Available from Silver Publishing

You can also enter a draw to win a copy of the anthology during the With Love, Valentine’s Day Blog Hop which is running on my blog from 11th February to 14th February.

Where to find L.M. Brown





Guest Blogger: Amylea Lyn

Jan 24, 2012 Filed under: guest blogger, m/m

Today I’m welcoming Amylea Lyn to my blog. Pull up a chair, grab some coffee or tea and get to know her….

Tell us about your latest release.

My latest release is titled Love’s Crash Landing. It will be available from Silver Publishing on February 4th.

Originally, the story was my first ever weekly blog story, with updates every Monday. It turned out to be a huge success, and there was just no possible way my readers would allow me to get away with not sending it in for submission.

The story revolves around Gavin Howard, an ex-Marine turned farmer, who finds a spaceship crash-landed in his cornfield. He takes the little alien man in, who turns out to be a Prince named Mi’Kel, who is on an interplanetary mission to save his dying planet. Gavin tries to keep the alien safe from the government hunting him, and finds out that true love doesn’t care what planet a person is from.

But as we all know, aliens are very different from humans, so there are more then a few surprises along the way. *winks*

What is your favorite genre to write? What other genres do you enjoy?

My favorite genre to write in is paranormal and fantasy. I love vampires, werewolves, elves, witches, sirens, etc. I could write stories about them every day for the rest on my life and never get tired of it.

That being said, I also enjoy writing stories with elements of science fiction and contemporary themes too. But if I am writing a contemporary story, more often then not there will be a dash of something paranormal to liven things up a bit. LOL

Do you have a favorite character from one of your books?

Okay, I have a confession; my favorite character is usually the one whose story I’m currently working on. I get so in tuned with them, and I cherish them despite their obvious faults.

I love all of my characters, really I do…. But if I had to pick just one it would have to be Jacob Blackthorn, the Native American police officer from my book, Dream a Little Dream. He was my first “dream man” character and I’ve always had a soft spot for him.

I also adore Cael, also from Dream a Little Dream, Tom from Let’s Get Familiar, and of course Ash, from Nature of the Beast.

Is there a style or genre of writing that you haven’t tired yet but you’d like to explore?

Hmm, I’ve dabbled in a lot of different styles (and sometimes failing miserably I might add) but the one genre I’ve always wanted to try would be a historical novel. I greatly admire the authors who spend so much time and effort doing research to make their books the best they can possibly be.

If I ever find myself without a project or WIP, I think that’s what I’d take a stab at writing.

How do you make time in your life for writing?

One word…Schedule. Schedule, schedule, schedule! I try to plan my days around shifts for my “day job” and writing time. Often it’s hard to find time during the week, so I’ll pick one of my days off and lock myself away to do nothing but write.

Of course, my insomnia also helps. If I can’t sleep, I usually end up writing.

What do you like to read? Do you have some favorite authors?

I love reading. I own over 200 paperbacks, and over 1500 ebooks. I’m an avid reader and always have been.  I love any type of book that can take me away from the “real world” for a little while and allow me to relax. And I read all types. From historical to mystery, paranormal to contemporary, and everything in between.

Some of my favorites are authors like Sean Micheal, Amber Kell, and Stormy Glenn. But I also like classic literature, like Charles Dickens, William Butler Yeats, Shakespeare and Emily Dickinson.

If you decide to take a Saturday off, what are we likely to find you doing?

Sleeping… writing… gardening… canning something…writing some more…. and playing fetch with my cat. Yep, I said fetch. She’s a weird one. *grin*

Choose six adjectives to describe yourself.

Shy, Clever, Zany, Witty, Helpful, Odd.

Describe the perfect meal.

Ohh, walnut shrimp over a bed of sticky white rice, a side order of crab rangoons, and a big old glass of sweet-tea.

If you were a dessert what would you be and why?

Hmm… If I were a desert, I’d probably be a slice of Black Forrest cake. The rich dark chocolate cake would be my silent, mysterious and shy side, while the cherry filling would be my sweet personality once you managed to get through my shy exterior.

Plus, it’s my favorite cake! I wanna add a slice of that to finish off my perfect meal above. LOL

To learn more about me and my books, visit my website or stop by my blog.

Blurb for Love’s Crash Landing:

Gavin Howard lives a simple life on his farm, keeping to himself and staying under the radar. That is all changed late one night when a spaceship crash lands in his corn field. So what is a simple farmer to do when he finds an injured alien lying in his back yard? Take it inside and care for it until it can “phone home,” of course.

But Prince Mi’Kel Ta’Rulen is not what Gavin expected. Beautiful, gentle, and on a mission to save his dying planet, Mi’Kel needs Gavin’s help for more than just his injuries. Can Gavin help Mi’Kel find the solution to save his people all while keeping the little alien safe from the Earth governments hunting him?

Gavin finds himself falling in love with the being from outer space, but can he find it in his heart to let the little alien go when Mi’Kel’s ship is finally fixed? Or will Mi’Kel’s secrets drive them apart when the alien needs his farmer the most?

Excerpt for Love’s Crash Landing:

Gavin Howard jumped out of bed the moment he heard the sound of the crash.
He’d been sleeping soundly, exhausted after a day of planting crops in the field behind his small farmhouse, when a loud boom shook the house down to its foundation and a blinding flash of light lit up the entire room.

Jerked from a pleasant dream involving two male belly dancers and a lot of whipped cream, Gavin opened his eyes as his befuddled brain struggled to catch up. Glancing at the clock, Gavin groaned when he saw the glowing red numbers read 2:17am. Lights shone from his back yard, just visible through his bedroom bay window. The red and orange flickering moved hypnotically and beautifully. It took a long moment before he realized what he saw.

Was that—? Holy shit, my back yard is on fire!

Before he even realized he had moved, Gavin jumped out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans over his half-hard cock, not bothering to do up the buttons completely. He grabbed his shotgun and charged down the stairs like a herd of buffalo were after him.

Before he even reached the kitchen and back door that lead outside, Gavin heard his old Blue Heeler, Bo, going wild, barking like a demon-possessed hound. The dog threw itself at the screen door again and again, blocking him from getting to the back yard and only quieting his howls to whimpering and whining when he spotted his beloved owner rushing into the room.

Gavin grabbed a flashlight from below the sink, patting Bo’s head as he went by.

“S’okay boy, I got it.” He opened the door, then turned back to push Bo back into the house when the mutt tried to slip between his legs. “Stay, Bo. Stay!” he commanded, not wanting to put his dog in danger until the back yard was safe. He shut the door, taking a deep breath to ready himself to face whatever had disturbed his sleep so violently.

Gavin turned, ready to face the issue at hand.

And promptly dropped the flashlight he held.

“No way…” he muttered, staring in disbelief at the scene before him. He couldn’t reconcile what he saw with what his brain knew had to be possible. He looked around. Nope, no cameras or microphones anywhere to be seen. Bo still whined from inside the house. Gavin gave himself a little pinch on the leg with his one free hand and hissed at the sharp, bright pain blossoming on his leg. Well, he wasn’t dreaming, which meant what he was seeing had to be real.

The scene before him seemed impossible, unbelievable…

Gavin just stood there, stunned, gun hanging from limp hands, mouth hanging open.

What the hell is going on?

No way could there be a crashed spaceship sitting in the center of his cornfield.

Pulling together his now-tattered courage, Gavin reached down to pick up the fallen flashlight, and then carefully started to approach the smoking wreckage, gun ready to shoot at the smallest sign of movement. Times like this, he was glad his military training gave him enough experience to keep himself safe as he approached apossible danger zone. His eyes were trained on the sky, for what, he didn’t know—more ships maybe?

Because as much as he wanted to deny what he was seeing, there was no doubt about it; he was definitely looking at a large silver spaceship.

The ship didn’t seem to be much taller than his tractor but definitely appeared wider; at least twenty feet across in an almost disk shape. The smooth sides shone silver, with an iridescent sheen that probably served as camouflage while the ship flew. He’d seen a weak rendition of just that type of thing years before while he’d been on special assignment in the Marines. Although, what he saw back then didn’t even begin to compare to the stunning object before him.

The fallen ship gave off a thrumming feel, vibrating deep in his chest with a low hum, almost like when a next door neighbor played a bass guitar in his garage. Gavin could still remember those days from back when he lived on the base. He knew there was sound coming from the amplifiers, but it was too low for him to actually hear. He could feel the static energy and vibration on his skin, but no sound could be heard.

All of the sudden, Gavin realized that what he was seeing might be real. As a kid, he’d always been a comic book fan and loved the old Star Trek TV show. But never in his life could he have imagined something like this.

Hot damn! He had a real live flying saucer in his back yard.

Love’s Crash Landing
is available for pre-order from Silver Publishing.

Guest Blogger: Lily Sawyer

Jan 10, 2012 Filed under: guest blogger, m/m

Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Lily Sawyer.  Well actually my name is Linda, but I write under the name Lily Sawyer.    I was born on Long Island New York, I always thought it was a special place to grow up, on an island, it actually didn’t feel so much like an island, you could drive east to west or west to east and never see the ocean for hours.    So it’s not like living on a tropical island where every vista is an ocean view.   In fact I had a co-worker who hated the water and avoided going near any of the coastal towns, I thought it was crazy.   I love the water,  I remember going to the beach as a kid with my parents and brother and we’d spend the day swimming and just watching the waves come in and out.

One of my special memories is going out to the East End of Long Island with a friend of mine.  The Long Island Railroad offered tours of the wineries and one summer my friend and I went on a tour of the north fork.  I’d never been out that way and it was exciting to see the vineyard and we got to see how they make the wine and we even got to taste the different varieties they make.

When I was thinking of a plot for a new story I thought about setting it on the East End and incorporating some of my experiences out there into my story.    That was how Gabriel and William were born.   Of course everything that happens in my story is complete fiction, but there are some memories of my time at the vineyard that weaved its way into the story.

During the time I was writing “Love on the East End” there were a lot of news stories about gay teens killing themselves.   While I hadn’t planned to have this topic appear in my story I couldn’t get the idea out of my mind so I let my muse go where it wanted and readers will be able to see how I handle this situation in my book.

I want to thank all who buy my book.   I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Love on the East End by Lily Sawyer (on sale through Jan 15!)


Gabriel Meyer’s restaurant is a dream come true, but he gets more than he expected when in the course of his business he meets William Thomas, owner of Rolling Hills Winery. Food and wine more than come together on the east end of Long Island as they discover just how complementary Gabriel and William really are. Their seeming paradise is disturbed, however, when they meet young Ben Stewart—a troubled teen who is being bullied at school over his sexuality. Can they help this young man and fight the intolerance that lies on the east end of Long Island, or will it consume them?

Chapter 1

Gabriel Meyers looked at the empty dining room of his brand new restaurant.  He’d just opened the doors two weeks ago and already the place was packed every night.

While he loved the hustle and bustle of the lunch and dinnertime crowd, he appreciated the quiet the morning hours afforded him.  He used the time to do all the paperwork and phone calls, which were a part of running a place like Maven.

“Gabriel, we have a problem with the wine order.” Pierre came running into the room to inform him.  He was the restaurant’s sommelier, and Gabriel met him at the culinary school in Paris.  He was studying to be a chef and when he decided to open his own place Pierre was one of the first friends he told.

“Oh what now?”  It always seemed to be something, you’d think having your own place on the north fork of the east end of Long Island in the middle of wine country would mean having an endless supply of wine.  Sadly, it wasn’t the case.  Sometimes they had special clients that wanted certain things the restaurant didn’t always have on hand.  Like now they were looking for a special vintage of Riesling to go with the duck being served at a fiftieth wedding anniversary celebration, which was happening this weekend.

“The Pindar Winery won’t have any ready for about three weeks.”

“Have you tried the other wineries?”

“I tried the Rolling Hills winery, they said they’d give us a call back.”

“We can’t sit on our hands on this, we need that wine.  I’ll call them again to see if I can make any headway.  Thanks Pierre.”

Gabriel heard the phone ringing and ran back to the office to pick it up.  He wished he’d looked at the caller ID before he answered.



His stomach tied up in knots when he heard the dulcet tones of his ex-wife on the other end.

“Willow,” he said through clenched teeth.  “What can I do for you?”  He wished more times then he could count that he and the blonde with the blue eyes and movie star body had never crossed paths.

“Gabe, you don’t sound very happy to hear from me.”

Truth be told he wasn’t. Their marriage was the biggest mistake of his life.  They’d met in New York City, she was acting at a theater club and he was waiting tables.  They started off as friends, hanging out with friends and family.  Then ended up getting married.

Gabriel knew they had rushed into something that was never meant to be.  He did love Willow, but he was never in love with her.   He was gay; it took him a long time for him to admit it to himself, let alone to Willow.  He finally told her two years after they’d said ‘I do.’  She was stunned at first, then she told him she had a feeling something was different about him, but she hadn’t been able to put her finger on it.

They got a divorce, their story made the rounds with the tabloids.  Fortunately he was able to hide his secret of being gay, he was only too glad they left him alone and glommed onto her.

When one reporter intimated they’d split because Gabriel was gay, he asked an old friend from school if he could hang out with her to make it look like they were dating.  She was only too happy to help him throw them off the scent, even going so far as to make sure they were seen in public, holding hands and walking the streets of Brooklyn having brunch at a restaurant one Sunday morning.

“Willow, I’m kinda busy, what can I do for you?”

“Is that any way to talk to your ex-wife?”

He cringed when she said ex-wife, their divorce hadn’t been as clean a break as he would have liked.  She got nasty when he asked for the house on Long Island.  She had several properties; she barely spent any time there.  Her favorite spot was a condo on the upper east side of Manhattan.

“Well, I’m having a party to honor Chuck Scarborough, you remember my agent?  He’s celebrating thirty years in the business and I wanted to do something special.   He has a home not far from your restaurant and I want to rent out the back deck and hire a DJ and just do it up big.”

“How big?”  Despite how their marriage ended, Gabriel knew Willow could bring him a lot of big business with all the big wigs in the music and entertainment industry she could connect him with.

“About one hundred.”

“When?”  Maven could easily handle that many people.

“Weekend after next.”

It was spring and the weather was getting nice enough so they could start using the deck outside.  The restaurant faced Long Island Sound and on a clear day you could see Connecticut.

“How about I put you in touch with Annie, our party planner? She can iron out all the details. I don’t see any problem having the party here.”

“Thanks, Gabe, I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

“Sure thing. Thanks for thinking of Maven for your party.”  They hung up.  He’d let Annie know about the party later, right now he had some Riesling to wrangle up.


William Thomas loved wine; there wasn’t anything he didn’t know about it.   His interest started when he took a trip to France and toured the wine country and it was like he finally found what he wanted to do with his life there in the middle of vineyard.   When he got back home he did everything necessary to begin his journey from a beginner everyone in the industry scoffed at to a well-respected wine maker.   Even his family, who were not thrilled with his decision to go into the winemaking business, became his biggest supporters.

Rolling Hills winery was the result of all the blood, sweat and tears.

William loved opening up the winery to tourists and often joined them in the wine tasting room.

Women came on to him all the time, he enjoyed the flirting.  But that was all it was ever going to be.    He wondered what these same women would think if they could see him dancing on the dance floors at one the gay bars on Fire Island.

He’d never had a serious relationship, content for years to play the field until he hit the big three-O six months ago.  Now he was looking for that special person, but it sure wasn’t easy to find him.  He decided if it was meant to happen it would happen.


Gabriel turned down the long linden-lined drive.   He parked in front of the quaint, Tudor style house at the end. He got out of the car, walked over to the fencing and looked at the rows of grape vines that went on towards the Sound.   There was just something about being out in the open air that made him feel so peaceful.

“Like what you see?”  A deep, sexy voice startled him out of his reverie.

“Oh geeze, you startled me.”  Gabriel put his hand over his beating heart, which beat even faster when he got a good look at the curly blond haired man that had snuck up behind him.

“Sorry,” the blond stuck out his hand.  “I’m William Thomas, owner of Rolling Hills winery.”

Gabriel grasped the proffered hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m Gabriel Meyers. I own Maven. I called about getting four cases of Riesling.”

“Ah yes my partner Steve told me you’d called.”

Gabriel didn’t know why hearing the word ‘partner’ bothered him, he’d just met William a moment ago and yet it felt like Cupid’s arrow had pierced him in the heart.

“I had them set aside for you.  They’re in the barrel room. How about I give you a tour of the place? I mean if you have the time.”  William flashed his pearly whites at him and Gabriel couldn’t resist the opportunity to spend more time with the tall blond.

William must have been about six-one or six-two.  He didn’t tower over Gabriel’s own height of six feet, but he still had to crane his head just a little to meet the chocolate brown gaze.

“I have plenty of time, the restaurant doesn’t open until noon.”

“Well, then, let me give you the grand tour.” William led him to one of the pickup trucks parked next to the house. They took a drive around the vineyard.  William explained the different varieties of grapes they grew and what kinds of wine were produced from them. He even got a chance to watch one of the grape picking machines at work, carefully picking the fruit off the vine and separating out the stems.

“I can tell you, Gabriel, that is one expensive piece of machinery.  Had to get it imported from Italy.”

“Really? Wow!”  Gabriel was very impressed. He knew about wines, after all you can’t live in Paris like he had and study culinary arts and not learn about them.  He wasn’t an expert like Pierre, but he knew enough to know how to pair them with food and not embarrass himself.

As far as the growing end, he knew little but he sure was getting an education now.

“Has this winery been in your family for long?”   The wineries on Long Island had started up about thirty-six years ago.   No comparison to the centuries old vineyards in Europe but they still had made their mark in the wine making industry none-the-less.

William laughed. “No I’m the only one in my family interested in wine.  My father is a lawyer and my mom is a fashion designer.  My older brother is a screenwriter.   He ‘s worked on a few movies, and he lives out in LA.”

“What made you decide to go into the wine industry?”

“I was going to school in northern California and my friends wanted to spend spring break in Napa Valley.   I just fell in love with wines and wanted to learn the business.  I came back to Long Island and started my own winery.  Rolling Hills is the result.  We’re celebrating our tenth year.”

“Congratulations!  Your family must be proud.”

“Thank.  Well I can’t say they were thrilled, but they saw the passion I have and they’ve been very supportive.”

They parked next to the house and William took him to the barrel room.  One of the workers took the cases of Riesling and put the in Gabriel’s car.

“Do you want to stick around for lunch?”  William offered his new friend.

Just then Gabriel’s cell phone went off.

“Hello?” Gabriel walked a few feet away from the other man.  “What! No I know I placed that order a week ago, what do you mean they don’t have a record of the order?’  He paused.  “Shit, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”   He shut the flip phone closed.  “Damn.”


“Yeah, I had a champagne order that was supposed to be delivered this morning and they have no record of it.  I need it for an engagement party tonight.”

“I think I can help you out there, just hang out here for a bit.”  After Gabriel told him he needed some Dom Perignon, William went inside the house.  He returned a few minutes later with a smile on his face. “It’s done, I got you the champagne you needed.  It should be delivered to the restaurant in about an hour.”

“How did you manage that?”  Gabriel was surprised.

“I know plenty of people around here. There’s a place on the south fork that carries some wonderful champagne.   I got you a case.  Unless you wanted more?”

“No, a case is fine.   I can’t thank you enough for helping me.”

“Forget it, I was glad to help.”

Gabriel slid into the driver’s seat of his car and started the engine.   “Hey how about coming to our wine tasting event? We’re having it on Friday night at seven thirty.”

“Sure, sounds like fun. I’ll bring a good vintage from our special collection.”

“You can bring your partner if you want too.” Gabriel took off without waiting for an answer from William.  Truth be told he didn’t want him to bring anyone else, let alone his partner.   But it wouldn’t have been polite to invite him without his lover.

‘Why are the good ones always straight or taken?’  He asked himself as he drove, with a heavy heart, back to Maven.

Buy Love on the East End here while it’s on sale!

Visit Lily Sawyer at her blog.

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