Showing posts with label vampire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vampire. Show all posts

Monday, September 21, 2020

BURNING ASH by N.J. Walters

BURNING ASH by N.J. Walters is out today. This is the third book in the Forgotten Brotherhood series.


Burning Ash
Forgotten Brotherhood, Book 3

No one is more surprised than Asher, one of the oldest vampires on Earth, that he's attracted to vamp hunter Jo Radcliffe. She's smart, a talented slayer, and she's gorgeous. Something about her pulls at him, like no one ever has before. For a man, whose name strikes fear in everyone––this is something new and intriguing. And quite possibly deadly, if she discovers his secret.

Jo has two things in common with the handsome Asher––they are both slayers and someone is messing with them in a very-much-trying-to-kill-them way. She's not so happy about joining forces with a dude she doesn't know. But he's sexy as hell and really good at his job as one of the Forgotten Brotherhood, whose business it is to execute misbehaving paranormals.

She knows she's bait in a larger plot to harm Asher and the Brotherhood. And there is nothing he won't do, no line he won't cross, to keep her safe––which may be the weakness that destroys them both.

TEASER:

He stuck his big foot in the doorway, to keep her from slamming it in his face. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”


She gave a snort of derision as she tossed the bag on the sofa and faced him, defiance in every line of her body. “Takes more than that to scare me. Well, you coming? You’re no vampire. Not like you need an invitation.”

If she only knew.

Want to read more? Go here: 


Tuesday, December 12, 2017

NAUGHTY BEASTS - Available Now!

NAUGHTY BEASTS: EIGHTEEN FABULOUS FANTASIES
Available Now!


Contains 18 Sci-Fi, Fantasy & Steampunk Stories from bestselling authors writing as The Naughty Literati


Find it here:


Blurbs:

BUY ME A ROSE
Francesca Hawley
Jessica and Nathaniel Whitewolf celebrate their thirtieth anniversary as True Mates, but they’ve lost their bond. Now a hot couples’ retreat will get it back.

HOW TO BLACKMAIL A VAMPIRE (BLOOD MATES 1)
Belle Scarlett
In the spring, a vampire’s fancy turns to the blood lust mating hunt. A pretty, human blackmailer becomes the object of his thirst, but she’s not into vampires. Yet.

HYBRID MATES: MERRY CHRISTMAS, KITTEN
Nicole Austin
Sirena Petra wants one thing for Christmas—an orgasm. And sex toy expert Kenyon Fort has exactly what the lion shifter needs to find more than just her happy place.

VIKING IN TARTAN
Suz deMello
Medieval romance from the Highland Vampires series. A Viking raider brings change to little Clan Kilbirnie, especially to the chieftain’s daughter, Rhona.

HYBRID MATES: MY VALENTINE LOVERS
Nicole Austin
All I want for Valentine’s Day is to get barbed by a feline shifter and act out a few of the naughty twin fantasies getting me hot and bothered.

PERFECTLY PRESENTED
Berengaria Brown
Blake sees Xavier agonizing over unclaimed gift tags for poor children on the holiday tree. Will Blake tell Xavier about his past and his problem?

HYBRID MATES: MY KIND OF LOVER
Nicole Austin
Badass biker girl, accountant, lioness shifter—I’m all that and more. And this hybrid wolf thinks he can take me on? Bring it, you sexy beast! I’ve got this.

SOPHIE’S CHRISTMAS GARGOYLE
Katherine Kingston
When Sophie helps rescue a battered woman, she gets more than one surprise from the woman’s other self-appointed protector.

HYBRID MATES: SEX ME UP
Nicole Austin
One night at a Paris sex club—no strings, complications, or inhibitions—just lots of fantasy sex. But in the morning I forgot the most important rule. Never run from a feline predator—they live for the chase.

IMMORTAL HUNTERS
Suz deMello
Vampire Rama avoids attention by working nights as a private investigator. No one cares if some bad guys disappear on her shift. Then Detective John van Helsing shows up. Bearing the name of the vamps’ greatest foe, he interferes in her case and in her life. Friend, lover, or enemy?

THE BERMUDA LOVE TRIANGLE
(PACK MASTERS 1)
Belle Scarlett
Castaway in the Bermuda Triangle, Trista finds herself torn between two sexy shifters. Neither will share her so she must choose between them. Decision, decisions…

OCEAN DREAMS
Suz deMello
Marine biologist Sandi has never forgotten Blue, the baby dolphin with whom she bonded. Reunited with him years later, she discovers he’s a shapeshifter in the sexiest possible way.

HER GARGOYLE GUARDIAN
Katherine Kingston
Ginny decides to pursue a relationship with Ben despite the risks to her heart. She can cope with his claim that he’s a shape-shifting gargoyle, but his warning that they will have only a short time together gives her pause.

NO GENTLEMAN
Francesca Hawley
Librarian Abby Kelly comes west finding a roguish shapeshifter who desires her. Will Goldwolf is no gentleman, but Abby discovers he’s just what she wants.

WERE THE HELL?
Berengaria Brown
Septimus has to learn why no female weres have been born into his pack. When he walks into the meeting room he smells his mate. A male.

*These titles have been previously published in earlier Naughty Literati boxed-sets.*


Sunday, August 28, 2016

Excerpt from IMMORTAL HUNTERS by Suz deMello

Naughty Haunts
Eleven Spooky Love Stories



Pre-order the E-book:
amazon

Available for download September 2nd

 

BONUS MATERIAL: 

Blurb: Vampire Rama avoids attention by working nights as a private investigator. No one cares if some bad guys disappear on her shift. Then Detective John van Helsing shows up. Bearing the name of the vamps’ greatest foe, he interferes in her case and in her life. Friend, lover or enemy?

Genre/Theme:
Contemporary, Paranormal, Vampire

Copyright © Suz deMello, 2016


Chapter One



Being a vampire can suck… Oops, sorry about the bad pun. Well, it’s true, it can bite… Yikes, there I go again. What I mean to say is that it has its ups and downs. I’m virtually immortal, which is pretty cool. My hair and nails don’t grow, but when I awaken, they’ve been restored to the state they were in when I became undead. It’s inconvenient, since I grew up in a shithole with no running water. A mani-pedi was not merely unavailable but unimaginable. I was an unkempt mess when I was changed, so every evening when I awaken, I devote an hour or two to personal grooming. My long black hair is a no-brainer. Up it goes into a French twist or a braid. Nails are more difficult.


So there I was one night on surveillance, tucked into the comfy front seat of my undistinguished Camry in a dark corner of Santa Martina, contemplating the choices I faced—Mango Madness or Ruby Delite? Through my increasingly foggy windshield, I occasionally cast a glance at the crappy apartment half a block away where I’d run my quarry to ground. Soon I’d take him, after the lights were doused and he’d fallen asleep.

I work for a private investigation firm, and my boss understands my rules. First of all, ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies. Second, night jobs only.

And if a bad guy or two—or three or five or seven—disappears during my shifts, nobody really cares. Operating in Santa Martina is especially convenient due to its location, the northern California coast. Offshore lies a marine mammal sanctuary. Because of the plethora of seals and otters, lots of great whites come to call. The occasional surfer gets chomped. Bodies disappear, or they may wash up on shore, drained of blood.

Get the picture?

As I was saying, there I was one night, picking at a chipped edge of the Ruby Delite flaking off my left index fingernail when someone tapped on my window.

I could see a uniform, so I unrolled. “What’s up, officer?” I asked in a pleasant tone. No sense offending local law enforcement, you know.

“We’ll have to ask you to move along, ma’am,” he said, an officer at his most officious.

We? I looked beyond the uniform and there he was—a suit. An undercover dick on my turf.

In gray pinstripes, he would have been as inconspicuous as I if it hadn’t been for his cornpone, white bread, wheat-fed wholesome handsomeness. Blue-eyed and blond, he would have screamed “farm boy” in TV Land, but in California most farm workers are Hispanic or Asian immigrants.

“Well, if it isn’t John-Boy Walton,” I drawled.

He drew closer, no doubt taking in my black hair, black eyes, black leather, red slash of a mouth and white, white skin. ”Well, if it isn’t Ms. Goth Barbie,” he drawled. Back atcha, honey.

I couldn’t stifle my smile. I like a man with a quick tongue—they have more than one use. “It’s Hestia, actually. Hestia White.”

“Hestia? The Greek goddess of hearth and home? That’s incongruous.”

My smile broadened. I knew few men with “incongruous” in their vocabularies, and fewer still who knew the meaning of the name I cynically used. I liked him. Shame I had to run him off.

He leaned against my door panel, ignoring the condensation wetting his elegant gray pinstriped sleeve. “Well, Ms. Hestia White, you do need to move on out. Police business.”

I lounged back in my seat. “But I kinda like it here.”

“Why? This isn’t the nicest part of Santa Martina. Completely lacks the charm of the marina or the nightlife in downtown.”

I looked into his blue, blue eyes. “I prefer down and dirty.”
He met my gaze without faltering. “I could arrest you for loitering.” He leaned closer, partway into my window. “Take you in. Lock you up.”

“Ooh, handcuffs.” I shivered theatrically.

“Actually, Ms. White, we’re on the job.” His voice had gone crisp and businesslike.

“Actually, Detective Whoever, so am I.” I flipped open my wallet to flash my P.I. license.

His eyes widened. “How come I’ve never heard of you?”

I shrugged. “I keep a low profile. Safer that way. Hey, I’ve shown you mine, so why don’t you show me yours?”

I’d teased out a reluctant smile, one that reached deep inside to heat me from my brain to my box. Yes, that box. I was surprised. Mortals don’t usually turn me on.

He reached for his wallet to show me his shield and I.D. John van Helsing. A tremor ran through me, ruffling the tiny hairs on my nape and my arms. Was it chance that this detective bore the name of the most famous enemy of my kind?

“John-Boy,” I said with phony delight.

Monday, February 29, 2016

Story Potpourri ~ Writing in Sub-genres #Romance #Craft #Humor

Happy Leap Year day, everyone! While you're enjoying this extra day in our 2016, I want to spend this bonus time giving a shout out to The Naughty Literati... I really do, yes, and a loud shout, at that.

Here's why:

At the end of 2014, while endeavoring to have my story rights returned to me by my former publisher, I was in the same leaky boat as a lot of authors I know - fairly bursting with ideas of all sorts but under contractual agreement to give right of first refusal of the next story to the very publisher from whom I was in the throes of separating. I couldn't see waiting, lingering, standing by, delaying - you get the idea - proceeding with my stories until my contractual release deigned to arrive. There was a real chance it would never come. Then what? 
Dire Wolf at the Door accepts CASH only!

The good news was that the Writer's Block from which I'd been suffering for ages suddenly vanished. The bad news: I was in Writer's Limbo, located just around the corner from Writer's Block and maybe even in a little worse neighborhood. You see, with Writer's Block you WANT to write and are ABLE to publish, but you CAN'T write for the life of you. When you're in the Seventh Circle of Writer's Limbo, you're DYING to write and you CAN write, but you CAN'T show it to anyone you want to. At least not for money. And the mercenary dire wolf that scratches perpetually at my door demands that writing be a cash-on-the-barrelhead kind of endeavor rather than something non-lucrative, like knitting (seriously, you should see the sweater I've been trying to make for the past five years; NO one is going to pay me one thin farthing for that cashmere piece of crap.)

Meantime, while I was dawdling, lollygagging, meandering, and loitering in Writer's Limbo, my pen was practically leaking heroes with bulging, er, muscles, and lurid, hot-as-Dante's-hell sex scenes all over the place. I was scribbling down hawt plot ideas wherever they struck me and on whatever surface I could find. I have an insatiable need to hand write all my stories in their germinal phases, the computer won't do. I'm a tactile writer and I love hearing the soft scratch-scratch-scratch of quill tip on parchment (or Bic to spiral notebook paper, gum wrapper, whatever's handy) and watching my fingers manipulating the bleeding pen to form the letters of each word using my muddled Southpaw clawmanship that rivals a doctor's handwriting. Seriously everyone besides Mom and me needs an Enigma machine to decrypt the eccentric flow of my cursive.

To stop my thumbs from twiddling whilst haunting my inbox for Ye Olde Reversion of Rights Letter to pop up in my email queue, I filled up all my notebooks with outlines and ideas. When I ran out of blank pads of paper, nary a Post-it note or damp cocktail napkin was safe in my proximity. I was sullying the inside leafs of telephone directories with my hero's slaked sexual thirst. I was doodling post-coital dialogue on the insides of both my forearms (I'm ambidextrous in a pinch).


The problem was growing inconvenient. I had to hide my forearms and the telephone directory from my mother when she'd visit. I was running out of random, available writing materials to the point where rolls of toilet paper were on the line. 










Show me the Fancy Feast and no one gets hurt, see?

Evil Feral Cat was not amused by my preoccupation since it often meant I was scribbling on the back of a barroom coaster while plumb forgetting it was Fancy Feast o'clock already. Do we see the issue here? I was getting worried.

I knew I wanted to indie publish in order to have more control over my own intellectual property without anyone telling me what I could and could not write. I wanted to write in any and all genres that I love to read myself. But for the time being back then, I was contractually able to write only stories under 10k words. My publisher didn't care about seeing any of my work under 10k. It's not very lucrative to publish those, so what was the point? My dire wolf at the door howled in agreement.

Remember those other authors in the same leaky boat I made mention of before? Well, this is where they enter stage right and we all decide to start bailing and paddling together. The Naughty Literati was formed in a romance writers' Yahoo Group and suddenly I found myself roosting in a new literary nest where I could write anything I wanted... as long as it was no longer than 9,999 words in length. The plan was we'd all publish our high heat level short stories together in a few bundled box sets per year.  It would keep us writing and keep our fan bases stoked until our other contractual obligations were resolved.

And just like that, I was released from Writer's Limbo. The only thing left to decide was which of the many stories I'd squandered a mountain of Post-its, napkins, and TP on would be first story up.

"Shifter!" The dire wolf at my door howled. Yes, I had a shifter tale outlined but it wasn't really a winter holiday themed story, which was the only loose perimeter for our first boxed set, Naughty List. The title How the Alien Stole Christmas took up residence in my head and refused to be evicted. It was seasonal and featured a sexy-as-hell alien hero who realizes the Earth woman of his dreams with whom he's lustily engaged in cybersex for months is in trouble alone on a deep space station. He's determined to be the intergalactic calvary and, while he's at it, steal her for his own. Before you could say, "Close encounters of the hot kind," I'd written not only my first sci-fi/futuristic romance but my first romance short story, to boot. I created a Naughty List book trailer if you wanna peek!





Next, I always loved Somewhere in Time and The Lakehouse and wanted to write a period time travel romance set around Valentine's Day. Valentime, about a contemporary woman who finds a Valentine addressed to her from over 150 years in the past sealed up inside the antebellum plantation house she's renovating fit the bill for our Valentine's boxed set, Naughty Hearts. Voila! I'd written my first time travel romance.


Since everyone knows in the spring a vampire's fancy turns to finding his blood mate I wrote How to Blackmail a Vampire for Naughty Flings, our spring antho. When your cousin has been brainwashed by a sleaze-bucket vampire, what do you do? You find the richest, most powerful (and drop undead gorgeous!) vampire around who also happens to be your boss, and blackmail his sexy ass into helping you! Before you could say "Vlad the Impaler" I'd written my first vampire romance.














"Shifter!" my dire wolf reminded me. To appease him, I wrote not one but two (2!) sexy twin shifters vying for the passionate love of an amnesiac she-shifter stranded together on a deserted island in The Bermuda Love Triangle for our summer boxed set, Naughty Escapes. This wasn't my first shifter romance, but it won't be my last. There's a follow up to this one coming soon, because my readers tell me in insistent tones that BOTH of these sexy shifter brothers deserve to find the hot she-wolf of their dreams!

And there you have it, how I came to write whatever the hell I wanted in multiple romance sub-genres while lifting myself out of Writer's Block and Writer's Limbo whilst appeasing the grumpy dire wolf at the door. All in a rather large, picturesque nutshell. I have The Naughty Literati to thank for that. Big time.

For my one year anniversary with The Naughty Literati, I compiled all of my NL stories into one handy collection, ABSOLUTELY ALPHA  ~ now .99 on Amazon!

"If you are a paranormal romance lover then this is a must read collection! ...Each story is a masterpiece!" ~ Roxie's Romance Reviews 



Four magical romances from Belle Scarlett's enchanted quill. 

Alien Seductions: How the Alien Stole Christmas EXCERPT
On board a deep space station Capt. Christmas Trent learns her sexy cyber lover, who may not be human, wants to steal her for his own. 

“Our heroine is a willing submissive engaged in cybersex with an alien. Beautiful imagery, fascinating premise. I’ve always wondered why there isn’t more good science fiction romance. This story is good.” ~ Lizabeth S. Tucker, Geneflections 


Timeless Lovers: Valentime EXCERPT
Valerie buys a South Carolina plantation and discovers a Valentine addressed to her from a previous owner who bids her to return to him in 1865. 

“I loved this hot and romantic time slip tale and with not just time but danger threatening I was willing the couple to find their HEA. Super read.” ~ Tina Williams, A Reader’s Review 


Blood Mates: How to Blackmail a Vampire EXCERPT
In the spring, a powerful vampire’s fancy turns to the blood lust mating hunt. A pretty, human blackmailer becomes the object of his thirst, but she’s not into vampires. Yet. 

“Hot and steamy. Couldn't put it down.” ~ Kristi Cisneros, Amazon reader 


Pack Masters: The Bermuda Love Triangle EXCERPT
Castaway in the Bermuda Triangle, Trista finds herself torn between two (2!) sexy shifters. Neither will share her so she must choose between them. Decisions, decisions… 
Note to reader: This story is not a ménage tale. 

“Quite the steamy read.” ~ MAustin, Amazon reader 

Note: All stories were previously published in The Naughty Literati anthologies ~ Naughty List, Naughty Hearts, Naughty Flings, and Naughty Escapes. 


***



PLUS! I'm thrilled my former publisher did eventually revert my rights back to my very first romance! My dire wolf howled in delight...

WHAT IF THE BIG BAD WOLF... WAS THE GOOD GUY?
Red Riding Hood never had it soooooo good...


Get THE WOODSMAN for only .99!

Watch the book trailer



Ciao, bellas! Please don't forget to leave reviews on Amazon for any book you enjoy ~ it's the nicest thing you can do for any author!

Happy reading, 
Belle




Connect with Belle Scarlett:
Belle is also a proud member of The Naughty Literati ~ www.naughtyliterati.com 

Tuesday, September 1, 2015

Candyman by Nicole Austin

Here it is, the fabulous (if I do say so myself) cover for Candyman. I am thrilled to have this reverted Ellora's Cave title revised, re-edited and going live again.

Candyman – Preorder now – Downloadable on September 4th http://goo.gl/pgRwSi


Blurb:
Elisa Wilde’s recurrent dreams transcend time and place. Dreams so real they seem to be actual memories of a bygone era. Driven to unravel the mystery and reclaim her life, she’s drawn into an amazing adventure.

In a tragic twist of fate, Michael Claret lost his truelove. He has waited decades for her return, but getting her back is only a small part of the battle. Edie has changed, evolved into a different woman. Not only will Michael have to once again win her heart, he must also gain her acceptance of his true nature. And to keep her requires she make a huge leap of faith by completing the mating bond—a sharing of blood binding them together for eternity.

Fate is a cruel mistress who will not be cheated or denied. To make the most of their second chance, Michael and Lisa must alter the path chosen for them, and rewrite their love story or be lost to each other forever.

*This previously published title has been revised and re-edited*

Excerpt:

Copyright © Nicole Austin, 2015

Lisa wanted to laugh as she listened to a group of women seated at a large table ordering fancy drinks with sexy names. Foreplay, All Night Long and Kinky Orgasm were a few of her favorites.

Shan found two empty stools at the bar for them. After several minutes, they were approached by a harried-looking bartender, flamboyant mannerisms and a gay pride T-shirt advertising his sexual preferences.

“What’ll it be, ladies?”

“A Slow Comfortable Screw with a twist,” her sister stated.

His attention turned toward Lisa. “What would you like, hon?”

Her mind wandered to the earlier visions of frantic sex with Michael, and her devilish muse became inspired. What the hell, he’d asked what she wanted, and he was blatantly gay so there was no danger of his thinking he could provide what she desired. She might as well tell him in explicit detail.

“I want a hard, deep, raw fuck against the wall, with multiple screaming orgasms, followed by the inability to walk straight for days.” She flashed him a wicked grin.

The bartender breathed heavily and Shan moaned. “Dayum, sis. Umm…I changed my mind. I’ll have what she’s having.”

“You and me both, sugar. I’ll let you know when I find someone capable of filling that order. In the meantime, you’ll have to choose something contained on the shelves.”

Lisa relented, ordered a glass of merlot, and turned to take in the room. The brief verbal play lessened some of the tension and allowed her to relax, if only slightly.

The band sounded hot, and quite a few members of the audience were dancing. Everyone appeared to be having fun. She received flirtatious glances from several men, but she didn’t offer any encouragement. Whether a simple case of nerves created the gut reaction or an actual case of intuition, she had the sense of sitting on the precipice of a life-altering event. Something big would happen tonight and she felt almost certain it would be tied in to the memories.

Shan and she were both asked to dance by several men and her sister took several up on their invitations. Lisa felt too strung out to dance, and politely declined all advances. Her thoughts shifted to performing.

She planned to sing tunes from now grown-up teeny-bop pop artist Christina Aguilera. Her album, Back to Basics, featured old-school style jazz, blues and soulful songs with a modern flair, along with a few sexually charged tracks that were perfect for the occasion.

Lisa would start with Save Me from Myself, a sultry, soul-inspired song that fit the forties feel she hoped to achieve and yet was still contemporary. The band had insisted she have an encore song prepared and told her in no uncertain terms that if the audience didn’t demand another number, the musicians would.

To make them happy, she decided on Candyman. The dirty and playful song would liven up the mood and get everyone interested in dancing again, hopefully saving her from singing anything else. While she enjoyed singing, she was self-conscious about doing so on stage under the bright spotlights.

At a signal from the bandleader, she headed backstage. She’d have ten minutes to prepare before being called out on stage. She paced the confines of a small dressing room going over the lyrics in her mind until the bar manager knocked and peeked in the door.

“You ready, Lisa?”

Taking note of the state she’d worked herself into, Sam moved to her side. “Whoa, honey. It’ll be all right.” Clasping her shaky hands in his own, he rubbed some warmth into her cold flesh and talked her through some calming breaths.

“I heard you sing earlier. You’re going to wow them, Lisa. Hell, if it makes you feel any better, there’s no way I’d let you on my stage if you sucked.”

As he’d intended, she laughed. “Jeez. Thanks, Sam. I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not, but I’ll take it.”

“You’re gonna knock ’em dead, honey.” He brushed a friendly kiss over her cheek. After walking with her to the edge of the curtain, he nodded to the band. They finished the current song and the bandleader drew the patrons’ attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Top Hat and Old Town Tavern are proud to announce that author and vocalist extraordinaire Elisa Wilde has humbly agreed to honor us all with a song tonight. So please, put your hands together and give a big welcome to this phenomenal lady.”

Oh crap, no he didn’t. How the heck would she live up to the effusive introduction? Her tummy flip-flopped as Sam walked her out onto the now darkened stage, held her waist, and set her atop the piano. A sense of déjà vu hit her as he handed her a cordless microphone then squeezed her hand.

“Have fun!”

In a flash, she was thrust back into the memory of Edie singing on a nearly identical stage. Grateful for the vision, she followed the other woman’s example and lay on her side.

Then something truly magical occurred. Upon opening herself to the magic, Lisa felt Edie’s spirit take over and she melded with the other woman. After a series of sensual moans and a sexy hiss, she sang the first verse. The pianist accompanied her for the second. A spotlight came on, illuminating her silhouette. With the third verse, the vibrating strum of a guitar joined in. The brass section chimed in with the fourth and the lights rose slow and steady along with the music.

As she gazed out over the audience, their rapt attention boosting her confidence, her eyes landed on a man who stood apart from the crowd.

Oh God. It was him. He was real. The man who called to her in ways no other ever had. She’d wanted him for what seemed like forever, loved him her entire life, but nervous jitters assaulted her from actually being near him.

Her pulse elevated, blood roared in her head, and her body zoomed from zero to hot-and-ready in the space between one heartbeat and the next. And she had no doubt this glorious man would be exceedingly capable of filling the order she’d jokingly placed earlier at the bar.

Tall and lean.

Dark and handsome.

Captivating blue eyes.

Mine!