Silvia Violet

Archive for the ‘interview’ Category

Very Inspiring Blogger Award

Jan 20, 2013 Filed under: interview, web event

I was nominated for the Very Inspiring Blogger Award by RJ Scott. If you have read her recent release, Bodyguard to a Sex God, run grab it right now!

The Rules:

Display the award logo on your blog.
Link back to the person who nominated you.
State 7 things about yourself.
Nominate 15 bloggers for this award and link to them.
Notify those bloggers of the nomination and the award’s requirements.
Seven Things About Me:
1. I’ve lived in the Southern US my entire life and I have the accent to prove it.2. I love to bake especially cookies, scones, and muffins.

3. I have an unholy passion for Sriracha.

4. I homeschool my children.

5. I make a weekly meal plan for all our meals, but I cannot for the life of me plot out a book and stick with it.

6. I have a crush on Dr. Sheldon Cooper.

7. I’m married to my high school sweetheart.

Now head on over to check out what these wonderful authors have to offer.
Angel Martinez, Hank Edwards, Em Woods, Lee Brazil, Havan Fellows, Sara York, Laura Harner, Freddy MacKay

Guest Authors: KevaD and HC Brown

Oct 9, 2012 Filed under: guest blogger, interview

Silvia, thank you very, very much for allowing us to tarnish your image.

You’re quite welcome.

Tell us about your latest release.

KevaD – No.

H.C. Brown- If you can’t play nice go down to the dungeon.

Brian Bowers is a man on a mission. Revenge weighs heavy on his mind. The need to punish the woman he once loved above all others falls into tatters the moment he sets eyes on her again. Fifteen years of walking on the fine edge between love and hate ends in an explosion of lust.

Patrice, sophisticated and wealthy, has her own agenda. She knows how to use her body to get what she wants. But Bowers knows how to play the game.

Set in a world of indulgence, Sea Games follows two hearts as they battle memories of the past. Will they win or lose a future together?

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

KevaD – True story: Joe Harrison, Patrice’s personal assistant in Sea Games, was actually inspired by Coretta Scott King’s assistant she had with her when she visited Freeport (where I live). I was invited to spend a few minutes talking with Mrs. King and her assistant in private. Mrs. King was an extremely intriguing and gracious lady.

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

KevaD – Predator vs Alien, The Love Story.

H.C. Brown- A psychological thriller- a really nail biting, edge of seat story.

How do you make time in your life for writing?

KevaD – I send my wife shopping.

H.C. Brown- I have to make time for my life in my writing.

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

KevaD –I’m quite fond of bathroom graffiti. My fave author? Whoever realized the word ‘Boob’ includes top, front and side views. I suspect that is the same person who wrote, “All you need is love, all you want is sex, all you have is porn.” Bathroom graffiti is great.

H.C. Brown- Uh-huh, so that’s why a guy takes so long in a public bathroom. Trust me, there is hardly anything worth reading in the ladies.

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

KevaD – Trick question. My antiques shop is open every Saturday.

H.C. Brown – The beach. I love going to the beach all year round

Choose six adjectives to describe yourself.

KevaD – Squishy, opinionated, bicameral, wicked, mellifluous, moist.

H.C. Brown- Aw you picked two of mine. D-oh! Blonde, voluptuous, short, dominant . . . um . . . you wanted six right . . . .ah, blonde.

Describe the perfect meal.

KevaD – Pizza served on Demi Moore’s stomach.

H.C. Brown- Really ?You sound more like pineapple rings on Penelope Cruise’s nipples type of guy.

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

KevaD – Pecan ice cream. Read Sea Games and you’ll understand why.

H.C. Brown- Strawberries and cream because people would look at me and say . . . Mmmm yummy.

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

KevaD – How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?

H.C. Brown- When is your book coming out as a movie?

KevaD Bio:
Bestselling author KevaD is in real life David “DA” Kentner, a prize-winning author and journalist who suspects the letter “Q” was created by a bored caveman outlining grapes in charcoal. That or the government’s first attempt at sex education.
He lives with his wife Virginia, mostly because, well, she’s his wife, on five acres outside of Freeport, IL. A retired police chief, Army veteran, auctioneer, and antiques dealer with a college degree in something he no doubt believed important at the time, KevaD is also a former chairman of the board for the local Salvation Army where he and Virginia continue to volunteer. A starving artist, his stick figures draw no line of interest, which probably explains the starving part.
He believes in the afterlife and hopes to become a ghost writer.
KevaD –



H.C. Brown Bio
First published in 2006, H.C Brown is a multi published, best selling, award winning, author of Historical, Paranormal, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, BDSM, Time Travel, Action Adventure, and Contemporary Romance. In 2011 she was delighted to received nominations in three categories in the 2011 CAPA Awards. H.C writes about strong alpha males in complex settings and all her stories have happy endings. She married her childhood sweetheart and lives close to the beach in Queensland, Australia. Her interests include art, music, and reading romance.

H.C. Brown –




Fan group

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:




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.

A Sexy Mind Blog Hop Starts Today!

Apr 23, 2012 Filed under: book release, contemporary, D/s, interview, m/m, Sexy Mind Blog Hop

Freddy MacKay, SJD Peterson and I are hopping around this week, counting down to the release of our Sexy Mind stories from Silver Publishing. Today I’m over at Freddy’s blog where Blake and Greg from my story, Astronomical, are answering some questions. So head over there to learn more about this sexy pair. You can enter to win a copy of Astronomical while you’re there.

Tomorrow, SJD Peterson will be here and we’ve got some awesome plans and a nice surprise coming up later this week.

Guest Blogger: Em Woods

Oct 18, 2011 Filed under: guest blogger, interview, m/m, shapeshifter

Today I’m welcoming the lovely Em Woods to my blog. So grab some coffee and sit down with us. Em, will you tell us about your latest release.

Eek. I haven’t had one of those in a while! But the last one was Jack’s Way, which debuted in the Saddle Up ‘N Ride anthology from Total-e-Bound Publishing early this year. It has since been released in single e-book, print, and audio…so pick your poison for some really yummy cowboy action. Overall, I think it has been my favorite published work so far. You can find out more here.

Of course, my most recent projects can be found every Monday with the Story Orgy when I post a new piece of whichever blog story I am working on. Right now that one is called Flying High – and is a paranormal shifter story about a butterfly Fae and his lynx shifter mate. It’s getting really good… *wiggles eyebrows*

What is your favorite genre to write? What other genres do you enjoy?
Ah, Silvia. You know my favorite genre is M/M. *grin* Of course, within that category I write mainly contemporary with a bit of paranormal.

Do you have a favorite character from one of your books?
It would have to be Graham. He’s a secondary character from Chasing Alex, which released last Christmas. I know that sounds odd that he’s a favorite, but I liked him so much (and had quite a few people asking about him!) that he got his own story which will be coming out this Christmas.

He is so intriguing and turned out to have quite a number of secrets. Graham isn’t as rough and tumble as he likes to appear and when Matt decides to knock down those walls – the fight is on. So to speak. LOL.

Is there a style or genre of writing that you haven’t tried yet but you’d like to explore?
Hmm. I’ve written contemporary, cowboy, paranormal, shifter which are mostly M/M with even a sprinkle of M/F/M as a ménage tossed in there. And I’m good with that. However, my stories fall on the vanilla side of BDSM – and I would love to write a true BDSM story. I’m working my way to it, though. So we’ll see. *grin*

How do you make time in your life for writing?
Oh my gosh. Really? I have no clue. I just do it. It’s one of those things that I need to do or I’ll go stark raving mad. LOL. I am either up really late…or up really early to fit it all in. And I drink a lot of coffee. I think caffeine runs in my veins, honestly.

What do you like to read? Do you have some favorite authors?
I love my Story Orgy pals, of course. Lee Brazil, Havan Fellows, JR Boyd and Hank Edwards. Our lovely camera girl, Jade Baiser, has even begun to do short flash fiction that will just rock your socks off.

Outside of that, I love Ava March, Stephani Hecht, Ryssa Edwards, TA Chase, Cameron Dane. And then there’s Nora Roberts, Christine Feehan, Anton Chekhov… well…there’s a few. *laughing* I really do love to read. And have a ton of authors that I will buy as soon as they come out – oh! Amber Kell is another one. And JP Bowie. Jambrea Jo Jones. And…And… (do you see? I am a lost cause!)

If you decide to take a Saturday off, what are we likely to find you doing?
Chasing around behind my two sons. They are six and four. What a handful they are, but I wouldn’t have it any other way!

Choose six adjectives to describe yourself.
Loyal. Compassionate. Funny. Hard-working. Outgoing. Bossy (There! I said it. LOL)

Describe the perfect meal.
Lasagna. Yummy ricotta/mozzarella cheese layered with tender noodles and a fantastic Italian meat sauce….oh man. I want some. Right now.

If you were a dessert what would you be and why?
Cherry Pie. Do you see those six adjectives I used up there? Yeah, that how I imagine it looking. A whole lot of sweet with a tart kick at the end. *grin*

Thanks for joining us Em!

Excerpt: Jack’s Way by Em Woods

“Benjamin.” Joan’s urgent whisper scarcely made it out of the little black box on his desk.

He closed his eyes, wishing for the thousandth time that working for a high profile architecture firm in New Hampshire meant he could escape the big city drama. Setting his pencil down on his drafting table, he slid off his stool and pressed the two-way. “Yes?”

“Christian’s here.”

A loud crash from somewhere down the hall punctuated her statement. Ben’s eyes narrowed as he stared at his closed door. “That’s not possible. He’s still in treatment.”

“He’s in treatment, all right, but it isn’t the one where you get any kind of help.”

He blinked at the intercom, mute.

“Ben?” She was louder this time, more worried.

“What are you talking about?”

“For God’s sake. He’s drunk.” A second bang came from just outside his door at Joan’s desk. The line went dead.

Then, he didn’t need the open line to hear what his assistant was saying to his ex-lover. “You nutcase! Look what you just did to my desk.”

“Where’s Ben?” Christian’s drunken slur carried through the closed door.

“He’s not here. Take your fool self home before I call the police.” She was like a mother hen, all gossip and ruffled feathers. But don’t be the idiot who crossed her. She’d peck your eyes out.

“His car’s in the lot. I know he’s around.”

He didn’t want Joan caught in the middle of this. One thing had been consistent in his relationship with Christian—his ex was violent when he drank. Things usually ended in a nasty brawl because Ben wasn’t the pushover his ex liked to think he was. He had known after only two months of dating he wanted out.

It had taken another four to get it done.

When Christian had agreed to in-clinic therapy after yet another vicious argument, Ben had used the opportunity to make a clean break. That had been three months ago. He’d finally started to relax. Six months was a short-term relationship, after all, and Christian hadn’t so much as called.

Until now.

Ben was gripping the doorknob before he realised he’d even moved. He took one more deep breath before opening the door to take in the scene.

Joan’s back was to Ben and Christian wobbled on weak legs in front of her, poking her in the shoulder. He leant in, momentarily losing his balance before catching himself on her arm. “Where’s he at?”

“Right here.” Ben leant against the door jam, crossed one foot over the other. He cocked his head to the side. “What do you want, Christian?”“Benjamin.” Joan’s urgent whisper scarcely made it out of the little black box on his desk.

He closed his eyes, wishing for the thousandth time that working for a high profile architecture firm in New Hampshire meant he could escape the big city drama. Setting his pencil down on his drafting table, he slid off his stool and pressed the two-way. “Yes?”

“Christian’s here.”

A loud crash from somewhere down the hall punctuated her statement. Ben’s eyes narrowed as he stared at his closed door. “That’s not possible. He’s still in treatment.”

“He’s in treatment, all right, but it isn’t the one where you get any kind of help.”

He blinked at the intercom, mute.

“Ben?” She was louder this time, more worried.

“What are you talking about?”

“For God’s sake. He’s drunk.” A second bang came from just outside his door at Joan’s desk. The line went dead.

Then, he didn’t need the open line to hear what his assistant was saying to his ex-lover. “You nutcase! Look what you just did to my desk.”

“Where’s Ben?” Christian’s drunken slur carried through the closed door.

“He’s not here. Take your fool self home before I call the police.” She was like a mother hen, all gossip and ruffled feathers. But don’t be the idiot who crossed her. She’d peck your eyes out.

“His car’s in the lot. I know he’s around.”

Learn more about Em at her website, Facebook, or Twitter.

Dinner for My Heroes

Jul 25, 2011 Filed under: erotica, interview, m/m, paranormal, recipes, shapeshifter, web event Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

I’m in the author spotlight at Whipped Cream this week and each day I’ll have a different blog post where I cook dinner for one of my heroes. To really know a man I have to know what I would cook for him and I’m happy to have a chance to share all those gastronomic delights with my readers.

In today’s post I’m making bacon burgers and blueberry pie for Jason from Sex on the Hoof.

Interview with Badge Bunny’s Officer Drake

Mar 29, 2011 Filed under: book recommendation, interview, paranormal, werewolf Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

As I get all squirmy with excitement over this week’s release of my Protect and Serve story, Savage Wolf. I wanted to get to know some of the other men in uniform a bit more intimately *grin*. So I convinced Cynthia Sax to send Officer Drake, hero of Badge Bunny, my way……

Silvia: (shivers and fights not to lick her lips) Umm, Officer Drake how do you feel about having a werewolf on the force?

Officer Drake: (runs a big hand over his bald head) How do I feel? What kind of pussy shit question is that? Do I look like I have uterus? (looks down at the impressively large bulge in his tight cop pants)

Silvia:  (twines hands together to keep from reaching out to touch that  clear evidence of manhood) I would never question your manhood. It’s  quite . . ..um . . .obvious.

Officer Drake:  Hrumph. (studies Silvia, detecting sarcasm in her voice) As for your question, I feel like sunshine and fuckin’ rainbows, that’s how I feel. (rolls his eyes) I hate fuckin’ shifters. One minute they’re human, and the next minute, they’re animals. I wish they’d make up their fuckin’ minds. (holds up one lined palm) Now, before you bust my balls about Savage, I’ll admit that, so far, he’s been an asset to the force, cracking down on the bad guys, and yeah, rumors say he’s saved his partner’s ass more than once, but he’s still a shifter, damn it, and you never know if the wolf side will bust loose and he’ll do something crazy ass sick like tear a shoplifter’s throat out, or sniff a fellow officer’s ass.

Silvia:  Wolves can be unpredictable but some of us enjoy a bit of  danger. (looks Officer Drake up and down leaning over to look at his tight ass and thinks that if she were a shifter she’d damn well sniff it) You look like a rather  dangerous man

Officer Drake: I’m dangerous only if you break the law. Break the law, and I’ll throw your pert ass in the clink, or worse, plug a hole in you… another hole. So I’m wondering… have you been a good girl, or a bad girl, Silvia?

Silvia (noting handcuffs hanging from his belt): Oh Officer, I’m afraid, I’ve been very bad. Do you get the chance to use those handcuffs often? What would someone for that particular privilege .  . .um . . . I mean punishment?

Officer Drake (dangles handcuffs from the tips of his fingers): These aren’t just for show. Are you coming with me peacefully, or do I have to restrain your sexy self?

Silvia (licks lips slowly): I do believe I’m in the mood to put up quite a struggle. You’re only getting me out of here if I’m thoroughly restrained.

Officer Drake (grins wickedly): I’ll use whatever means necessary to get my gal. (lunges at Silvia)

If you haven’t had the pleasure of getting to know Officer Drake, I highly recommend you check out Badge Bunny. It’s hot, wicked, and hilarious.

Vampire Week – Selena Illyria

Mar 23, 2011 Filed under: book recommendation, excerpts, guest blogger, interview, paranormal, vampire, Vampire Week Tags: , , , , , ,

Today the seductive Selena Illyria joins us with her thoughts on vampires…..

Like Moths to a Flame by Selena Illyria

They’re dark, dangerous and oh so seductive. They can be animalistic, primal and savage in a minute and in the next they’re weaving a silken web of desire in us, winding us so tight that we can’t resist. Perhaps it’s the age. Being immortal has its perks. To a vampire an eon is a blink of the eye. What wonders they could see, the good and bad of humanity. It’s fascinating and yet terrifying to know that this person could have seen everything from say the Hanging Gardens of Babylon to the Moon Landing.

Despite that fear, there is also the knowledge they could pick up. *wicked grin* Think of all the delicious delights they could have learned along the way, all those tips and tricks to make you squirm, scream and cry out in ecstasy. But it’s not all about the sex and danger is it? Well, maybe it could be depending on how you view it.

I find both sides of the coin fascinating. In a sense you have monster and lover all rolled into one. Think about it, you could have this ancient being, this person who’s seen it all and probably done most of it interested in you, of all the people they could pick. And yet depending on the kind of person you get, you could have the Saint or the Sinner or the devil in your bed. Pretty heady, yes? The question is what kind of vampire would you like?

There’s also something forbidden about the fact that they feed off of blood, our life source. You are literally they’re purpose for life, what’s keeping them alive, their next breath depends solely on you. Whoa, powerful , yes? There’s also the fact that we’ve grown up being told that drinking blood, at least in some cultures, is bad, wrong, you could be damned and here is a creature that does it. We’re defying societal and religious norms to be with this person. Romeo and Juliet eat your heart out! Brushing all that aside, what is it that you find sexy? Fascinating? Desirable? Irresistible? Who inducted you into the dark side and made want, yearn, for that painful kiss? Answer these questions and be entered to win a copy of Blood Claim: Trapped.

I know I love the danger and seduction of the vampire and I’m fascinated by how much they’ve seen and all the things I can learn. But let’s be honest, it’s mostly for the danger. lol

An excerpt from Blood Claim: Trapped:


Kit has never forgotten the cruel way Rysen rejected her as a possible consort over a hundred years ago. She’s striven to get stronger, pushing her attraction to him down and using her anger as fuel.

Rysen has always regretted the way he rejected Kit. As much as he loved her, Rysen despised the way her clan tried to use her as a political gambit for power and protection. But he never stopped wanting Kit, trying to make her his in every way possible.

When enemies attack, they use old magic to seal themselves off and stay safe. But now they find themselves trapped with a century of hunger rising between them….

Publisher’s Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, domination.

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Rysen ignored the throbbing of his cock. As much as he wanted to fuck her right now, he couldn’t. She was unconscious and she was hurt. When he got her in his bed, she was going to be awake and strong and enjoying every last bit of it.

His gaze roamed over her bruised and battered face. “Gods, she is beautiful,” he murmured. He leaned down, scooped her up in his arms, and held her close. He took in her mocha skin, some patches darker with bruises. One eye was swollen shut. He regretted every mark, every bruise, every injury he had inflicted on her, but words did not work with her. Ever since he had passed her over a hundred years ago, when her clan had offered her to him as one of his consorts, she’d loathed him, and she’d taken up her clan’s fight to avenge his insult against them.

He had wanted her — by the gods, he had wanted her — but he had always felt she was just too fine to bring into his world. She deserved better than to be a political sacrifice. His body shuddered at the very thought of her in his bed, arms over her head, tied to the bedposts, her legs spread far apart, her hairless mound glistening with her dew. Her pussy already dripping, ready for him to fuck her hard, fast, and deep. He wanted the image in his head so badly, and yet he knew if he even tried to make a move, she’d either kill him or die trying. He was tired of fighting her. He wanted to tie her to his bed, blindfold her, and show her the delights that could be had if she would only let him dominate her.

Carrying her up the stairs, he held her body close, cradling her like a precious relic. He made his way to the second floor. Out of all the women he’d ever encountered, she inflamed him like no one else. Her oval face, with her large, liquid brown eyes flecked with red, haunted him. Her full lips beckoned him. The graceful column of her neck invited him to sink his teeth into her jugular and drink deep of her life essence. He wanted to cup her small, high breasts and watch his hands travel along the curves of her sides, over her hips, down her thighs, caress her calves, and massage her feet. He wanted to rub his scent into her skin so that all would know she belonged to him and only him. There would be no others if she agreed to be his consort.

He could smell the odious poison in her blood. The wound on her palm was still open, blood slowly dripping from the cut. He would have to drain most of her blood and give her some of his. She would hate him for that.

Giving her his blood would allow him to track her wherever she went, to invade her thoughts and dreams, sense her moods, even from thousands of miles away. He would know if she were with someone else, he could even see through her eyes and take control of her body. He was the third chieftain of the Vampyre nation. He was the third most powerful vampyre in existence, his clan the third largest, and he was also third in line to ascend to the throne of the Vampyre monarchy. All he needed was a queen.

He made his way through a hallway and couldn’t understand why she’d bought this horrid place. It had no class, no sophistication. It was out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods, the nearest town five miles away.

“How in the hell is help supposed to get here in case of an emergency?” he asked the sleeping figure in his arms. “And it’s not even pretty land. For the love of the gods, the garden is overrun with weeds. The lake is a cesspool, and I have yet to see one animal around here. My darling, you should have taken my offer to make you a queen. Then you could’ve had all the beautiful land you could want.”

Even in sleep she defied him. As if on its own, her hand rose and tried to hit him.

He chuckled. “I shall call it a pet project for you, then. A hobby. But this should not be your life. You’re too talented to waste your gifts on this place.”

She tried to hit him again. He wanted to take hold of her hand and kiss the back of it, brush his lips against the pulse point and feel her heart beat. He looked up and saw he was only a few feet away from the bedroom he sought, the largest one at the end of the hallway. He could feel the rival vampyres outside, walking around, plotting their next move. Once he saw to her comfort and recovery, he would go outside and destroy them.

“How dare they interrupt our fight,” he growled. “As soon as I know who they are, they will be dealt with.”

If he had won, she would have been forced to concede to him, and therefore her fate would be in his hands. As much as he hadn’t wanted it to come down to that, he would have preferred it to the suicide mission she seemed to be on when she decided it was in her best interest to fight him.

“So stubborn is my darling,” he murmured softly. He loved her for that. He loved everything about her.

He kicked open the door and looked around. He was relieved to see that the room was in good condition. The furniture was of good quality, no dust or broken items. A large bed, piled high with pillows and bed coverings, stood against a far wall, the headboard a wrought-iron monstrosity whose top nearly hit the ceiling.

“This will do for now. You, my darling, deserve so much more.” His cock throbbed at the thought of laying her down in the silks, satins, furs, and velvets of his own massive bed. He shook his head. He wouldn’t feed his sexual desire now, not yet anyway. He refused to leave her while some unknown threat waited outside, prowling around looking for a weakness in Blyder’s protection spells.

“They won’t find them,” Rysen murmured as he arranged her on the bed and pulled off her boots. He paused, wondering if he should undress her to see how extensive the damage was. Making up his mind, he gently took off her tank top. Next, he removed her jeans and then her underwear.

Once she was naked, he catalogued all that he saw. Though his body reacted to the sight of her, his mind worked overtime to keep his lust at bay. He could see the bruises and wounds slowly starting to heal or disappear, but not fast enough. He took hold of her wrist and held it, palm up. Her self-inflicted wound had not disappeared.

She was too weak. Her immune system wouldn’t be able to defend itself until she had fully recovered. The poison was working much too well.

Swearing, he placed her arm gently on the bed and shrugged out of his black leather duster. Kneeling, he took hold of her arm and brought it to his mouth. His tongue lapped at the spot he would bite into, preparing it to stave off infection.

His canines extended. His body began to heat, and his cock grew harder. He kissed her pulse point before biting down, and his back arched as her blood hit his tongue. The sweet, salty, metallic flavor caused his taste buds to explode with pleasure. His eyes drifted closed while her life filled his mouth like sweet, hot lava. The faint bitterness of the poison did not dampen his pleasure; it was nothing to one of his strength. He drank of her, careful not to drink too much.

A soft moan drew his attention. He saw her back arch, her breasts thrust into the air. The scent of her desire filled his nostrils, and he moaned in response. Blood slipped from his mouth, coating his chin, dripping down to stain his shirt.

Easy, darling. Be at peace. I’m going to take the poison from you,” he whispered with his mind.

I’m dying,” she responded.

No. I won’t allow it. You will not meet the Great Maker now or ever, if I have my way. Relax, my darling. Let me take care of you.


Do it,” he growled out.

He felt her resist before he reached out with his power. Like a whip cutting through the air, his power flicked out into the space between them; like rope, he wrapped his will around her, pressing her down to the mattress. Her body flinched before relaxing back onto the bed. Once he was sure he had taken enough of her blood, he reluctantly released her wrist and lapped at the wound. Once the puncture marks were closed, he bit down into his own wrist.

He gazed upon her naked body, which looked cold and waxy, almost deathlike. He shuddered. He’d become a vampyre so he wouldn’t have to lose anyone else he loved. Seeing her like this reinforced how much he loved her. His wound welled, blood dripping down onto the worn bedspread. He reached out and pried her lips apart.

“Don’t fight me, darling. Drink of me.”

He placed his wrist at her mouth and watched her react. Reaching up, she took hold of his arm, holding it in a vise grip, her lips pressed to his flesh. Her tongue darted out and lapped at his wounds, causing pinpricks of fire to dance up his arm, inflaming his arousal. Her mouth latched onto his wrist, and each pull of her lips felt like a caress on his cock.

Rysen’s shaft throbbed in time with each tug. He reached down and, with one hand, ripped open the button of his jeans, pulled down the tab, and slipped his hand into his pants. Taking hold of his dick, he began to stroke his hardened rod, eyes now closed, head tilted back. He rose on his knees and, with a bit of awkwardness, tugged his pants down until his cock was fully freed. He wrapped his fist around his shaft and started to pump, up and down, in a grip that would cause tears to form in most men’s eyes. The pain and pleasure cascaded through his body. Warm waves ebbed and flowed through his veins as his hips moved back and forth. He fucked his hand as if he were inside her.

Rysen,” she moaned, her voice echoing softly in his mind. He grunted in response.

My love,” he answered. He did not care that he had just admitted his feelings for her or what she would think of them. He paused briefly, remembering the moment that had brought them to this place. The point where he had become her enemy a hundred years ago.


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Vampire Week: Michele Bardsley

Mar 22, 2011 Filed under: book recommendation, excerpts, guest blogger, interview, paranormal, vampire, Vampire Week Tags: , , , , ,

Today the lovely Michele Bardsley shares her creative take on vampires….

Vampire Moms are Cool (and Scary) by Michele Bardsley

Writers are often given the advice to “write what you know,” which honestly isn’t all that fun. We know boring crap, like how to do dishes and mow lawns and yell at children. Wait. That’s what parents know. Writers know … how to make up stuff and Google a lot.

In 2004, I really wanted to write a vampire novel. Even though I was told the market was oversaturated with fanged ones (Hah! We are still neck deep in vampires, people … and yes, I will continue to make lame vampire jokes. You’re welcome.), I couldn’t get the idea outta my head about a group of single parents who were suddenly undead. My parental mind whirled with all the possibilities.

What would you do if you could never see the sun again? What if you were on a permanent blood diet? What if you had no choice but to become nocturnal? How in the world would you raise kids when you’re dealing with paranormal issues–not to mention a few cool new superpowers like über strength and mind control?  How would you deal with the concept that you’re immortal … and your children are not?  And what if a 4,000-year-old Irish hottie told you that you were his destined soulmate? (Okay, that last question was just a perk of writing romance. Heh.)

Answering these questions is how the small town of Broken Heart, Oklahoma and its supernatural residents were born. The first character to experience the wonders of being undead was Jessica Matthews, widowed mother of two. She’s just a normal mom dragging the trash can out to the curb one night, and then she gets attacked, killed, and wham! She’s sucking on the muscled thigh of a vampire with a killer accent and eyes like silver (that’s Patrick O’Halloran … oh, yeah, he’s that hot).

I wasn’t sure that readers would embrace the idea of parental bloodsuckers. After all, my vampires (aside from Lorcan, of course) aren’t driven by angst and guilt. Mostly, they’re cool with being undead and immortality and having awesome abilities. Also, my heroines are all snarky, and the stories, even when I’m addressing serious issues, are all on the humorous side.

Readers not only liked the concept of paranormal parents, but also enjoyed the world I created in Oklahoma, which is now populated with a variety of parakind. Broken Heart has lycanthropes, were-cats, fairies, dragons, and … well, who knows what else. Those are stories waiting to be told. To think, it all started with one smart-ass mother who doesn’t mind being a vampire at all. And when she says clean your room, kiddo, she means it. Hey! Don’t make her get out the fangs.


By Michele Bardsley

The night I died, I was wrestling a garbage can to the curb.

I had a perfectly healthy fourteen-year-old son who should have taken out the garbage after dinner, but he, and let me quote him directly here, “forgot.”

Every Sunday and Wednesday night we had the same conversation, usually five minutes after he crawled into bed. Here’s the script:

Enter the Mother into the Pit of the Despair. I refuse to walk more than a foot into the Pit because I’m afraid a radiated tentacle might emerge from a gooey pile of papers and clothes and drag me, screaming and clutching at the faded carpet, into the smells-like-lima-beans clutter. I open the door, try not to inhale any noxious boy-room fumes, and delicately scoot one Ked-protected foot inside. Cue dialogue.

“G’night, honey. And Bry? Did you take out the garbage?”


“It’s twice a week. It’s your only chore. I pay you ten bucks every Friday morning to do it.”

“It’s a heinous chore.”

“I know. That’s why I pay you to do it.”

“Sorry, Mom. I forgot.”

At this point in the twice-weekly argument, variations occurred. Sometimes, Bryan faked snores until I went away, sometimes he actually fell asleep mid-lecture, and sometimes he whined about how his nine-year-old sister Jenny didn’t do chores and I still paid her five dollars every Friday morning.

So, yet again, just after ten p.m. on a Wednesday night, I found myself pulling first one, then the second thirty-gallon garbage can down the driveway, and trying to align the grimy plastic containers near, but not off, the curb. Do not get me started on sloppy, lid-flinging, half-trash-dumping garbage men who are extraordinarily picky about the definition of “curbside pick-up.”

When huge, hairy hands grabbed my shoulders and heaved me across the street and into Mrs. Ryerson’s prized rose bushes, I didn’t have time to scream, much less panic. The whatever-it-was leapt upon me and ripped open my neck, snuffling and snarling as it sucked at the bleeding wound.

Good God. What sort of man-creature could hold a grown woman down like a Great Dane and gnaw on her like a favorite chew toy? It slurped and slurped and slurped … until the excruciating pain (and honey, I’ve suffered through labor twice) faded into a feeling of weightlessness. I felt very floaty, like my body had turned into mist, or like that time in college when I took a hit of acid and had the “Tinkerbell” episode. I knew that if I just let go, I’d rise into the night sky and free myself from gravity … from responsibility … from Bryan and Jenny.

Just thinking about my kids slammed me down to Earth. My husband had passed away a little more than year ago in a car accident. Don’t feel too sorry for me, though. I was in the middle of divorcing the son-of-a-bitch.

I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t lift my arms. I couldn’t open my eyes. But I felt my body again, every aching, pain-throbbing inch of it. The heavy, smelly thing pressing my limp body into thorny branches and noisily smacking against my throat grunted and rolled off. Dry grass crunched and leaves rattled as it moved, growling and groaning like well-fed coyote. I didn’t flicker an eyelid for fear it would try for a killing blow, though if the state of my neck wound was as bad as I thought, I was dead anyway. Then I heard the sounds of bare feet slapping against pavement and realized the thing was running away. Fast.

I don’t remember how I disentangled my sorry self from the bushes. I have vague memories of the roses’ too sweet scent as I crawled across the street and collapsed near my knocked-over garbage cans.

For those who know me, meeting my end amid muttered curses and spilled refuse was not a great shock. But, shock or not, it was still a crappy way to go.

* * *
Some people believe that dying ends all possibilities of humiliation.

Not so.

When I awoke, I wasn’t standing at the pearly gates of heaven. Well, not unless the religious definition of “pearly gates” was way, way off-base.

I was latched onto the velvety inside of a muscular male thigh, my teeth embedded in the flesh near his groin, my mouth soaked with warm, very tasty liquid.

No, the man was not wearing pants. Hell, he wasn’t wearing underwear. Who am I kidding? The man didn’t have on a stitch of clothing.

I wish I could say that the embarrassment of my cheek brushing against his testicles outweighed my need to suck his blood—and yeah, I know, ew—but it was like … it was like … a half-off sale at Pottery Barn. No, better. It was like eating, without gastrointestinal or caloric consequences, a two-pound box of Godiva’s champagne truffles. No, no … like … oh God, like finally fitting into that pair of skinny jeans that taunts every woman from the back of her closet.

Uh-huh. Now you know the ecstasy I’m talking about.

After another minute or two of sucking on the stranger’s thigh, I felt firm, long fingers under my chin.

“That’s enough, love,” said an Irish-tinted voice. “You’re healed now.”

With great reluctance, I allowed the fingers cupping my jaw to disengage me from the yummy thigh. I sat up, licking my lips to get every dribble of blood (ew, again) smeared on my mouth.

“Where am I? What happened? Where are my kids?”

“Ssshhh. Everything will be explained.” He tilted his head, looking me over in a way that caused heat to skitter in my stomach. “Your children are fine. Damian is watchin’ them.”

Damian? Who the fuck was Damian? Whoa, girl. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Well, crud. The whole breath thing wasn’t working. I didn’t even want to think about my lack of heartbeat. I had to stay calm. I focused on the room and realized I could see everything clearly. What the hell? I had been relying on glasses to see past my nose for almost ten years. With this kind of vision, I probably could see all the way to Canada.

“So … with all the, uh, blood-sucking, I’m guessing I’m a vampire now.” Just saying “I’m” and “vampire” together was so ridiculous, I wanted to giggle.

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