MuseItHOT! Publishing

When Love Speaks

2012-01-20T18:13:00.000-08:00

Film mirrors real life. Writers of fiction and fact speak the truth through the words of their characters. The power of love. The power of the pen to write what is in men’s hearts when they fall…

She has 600 different smiles. They can light up your life. Make you laugh out loud, make you cry, just like that.
— When a Man Loves a Woman

When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.— When Harry Met Sally

The world is moved by love. We kneel before it in awe.
— The Village

We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly.
— To Love and Be Loved

Love is the strongest thing. Nothing can touch it. Nothing comes close. If we love each other we're safe from it all ---Snow Falling on Cedars

I knew it the very first time I touched her. It was like coming home... I knew. It was like magic.— Sleepless in Seattle

Wherever she is, that's where my home is.— The Notebook

You make me want to be a better man —As Good as It Gets

I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone. — The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living for? What is worth dying for ?The answer to each: only love — Don Juan DeMarco

Truth & love has always won There may be tyrants and murderers and for a time they may seem invincible, but in the end, they always fail. --Gandhi

There are too many mediocre things in life to deal with and love shouldn't have to be one of them.— Dream for an Insomniac

"I want the last face you see in this world to be the face of love.… I'll be the face of love for you."— Dead Man Walking

I would rather have had one breath of her hair, one kiss from her mouth, one touch of her hand, than eternity without it.
— City of Angels

Known someone that could level you with her eyes... an angel on earth who could rescue you from the depths of hell. " — Good Will Hunting

It seems right now that all I've ever done in my life is making my way here to you."— The Bridges of Madison County

Yours has been the most important friendship of my life.— Sense and Sensibility

Christine London www.christinelondon.com

Citadel of Women now on special

2011-12-06T11:05:00.000-08:00

Citadel of Women

by Lisabet Sarai

Price: $2.50
On Sale: $0.99 until Dec 15
You Save: $1.51

Click on the banner for more information

SEXing it up...but where?

2011-12-04T11:29:00.000-08:00

My name is Liam Stalls, author of the erotica short story: The Enchanted Bathroom, now available at MuseItHOT, the sensual side of MuseItUp Publishing.

I've been asked...well, before I continue let me offer you the back cover to my story:

Sandy Warner finds more than she bargained for in the Three Lillies bathroom. Overcome by the moans and groans from the couple in the next stall, she begins to fantasize a hunk obeying her every wish.

Richard didn’t expect to find the woman of his dreams flustered in his restaurant. After a surprise grab to his groin, he smiles.

Sandy, unsure if the man before her is real or her imaginary hunk, steps back. After an embarressing moment, she now must decide if she should make a move while the smile is plastered on his face, or apologize and walk out with her dignity.

I was at a standstill where to host my sensual scene for this story. The bedroom was typical, but lo and behold, while taking a shower, I visualized the woman of my dreams standing beside me, and my story's location was born. Naturally my dream/fantasy continued in the shower, but that's a whole different topic for another post. LOL

My question to you fine readers, and also writers, is this:

Where have you fantasized making love? Or where have you made love beside the normal confines of a bedroom? Was it more sexually appetizing to be daring?

Before I end this post, I will leave you with my excerpt of The Enchanted Bathroom, available now for only 99cents at the MuseItUp Publishing bookstore.

Having finished the pukes and cussing I took out my handy mouthwash and rinsed several times at the mirror and sink area. The door opened and I heard footsteps approaching. When I looked up I had to take a double take...

“Miss, are you all right? I heard...well...someone being sick and just wanted to make sure no one needed my help.”

I stared at him from the mirror. My hunk! My imaginary hunk stood behind me. In a daze I turned around and grabbed his crotch.

“Hey!” He stepped back.

I must have turned all shades of red because I felt the embarrassed heat flaring my cheeks and neck.

“I’m...so...sorry.” I just grabbed this guy’s crotch. What am I? Nuts? “I just wanted to make sure you were real and not a part of my fantasy. Oh my God, you must think I’m nuts.”

Totally surprised, he didn’t run out like a mad man. He actually approached me and...

Now that you are all hot and bothered...looking forward to reading your responses.

Liam Stalls

The Seven Year Switch

2011-11-28T07:00:00.000-08:00

NOW AVAILABLE

The Seven Year Switch

A Novella by: Dana Littlejohn

Genre: Contemporary Romance Erotica

Cover artist: Delilah K. Stephans

Words: 15163

Pages: 47

ISBN: 978-1-927085-98-1

Warning: Contains adult sensual content

Back Cover:

Sonja Winters enjoyed the good life with a great job and being married to the man of her dreams. As she prepared to celebrate their seven year anniversary she came across a secret her husband had kept from her. It would alter the course of their marriage forever.

Excerpt:

Sonja went to their bedroom and discarded her clothes before entering the bathroom a few feet away. Just as the shower reached her desired temperature she heard a noise from the other room.

“Kyle?” she called out stepping under the water.

“Hey honey.”

Sonja snatched the curtain back and smiled. “Hi sweetie. Happy Anniversary.”

Kyle caressed her wet face and kissed her soundly. “Happy Anniversary to you. Do you want me to start putting things away while you finish your shower? I’ll just take mine when you’re done.”

“Thank you baby. That would be great. Leave the meat in the sink and the veggies on the counter so I can cut them up.”

He left her with a quick peck and she slipped back under the warm cascading liquid. Sonja stayed longer than usual welcoming the relaxing feel of the water. Quickly she dried and slipped into the silky pajama set she knew was Kyle’s favorite. She sprayed perfume down her back and across her chest before leaving the room. As she walked into the bedroom she caught a glimpse of her clothes tossed on the bed. She changed course to retrieve them and went to the laundry room instead, promptly tripping over Kyle’s gym bag as she entered.

“Damn it!” she muttered as the clothes flew into the air landing all over the floor. “He could have put the bag somewhere other than the middle of the floor so I don’t kill myself.” Sonja gathered her belongings and dumped them on top of the bag. “Dang, he didn’t even unload it this time,” she grunted dragging the bag closer to the baskets.

She put her stuff in the designated hampers to be washed and unzipped Kyle’s bag to do the same.

“Towel, shorts, tee shirt, sweat band, sweaty drawers…” She continued calling off each item tossing them into the appropriate container. “Sock, sock, sock, tee shirt, geesh, how many weeks does he have in here?” she mumbled shaking her head. Her hand dug into the bag and suddenly stopped. “What the hell is this?”

Hard…wide…smooth, no wait… rough…a buckle?

Sonja’s fingers assessed the object and then she slowly withdrew her hand letting her eyes confirm the picture building in her mind.

“It’s too big for a dog, even a big dog…”

Her voice was soft and confused as she stared at the article in her hand. She flipped the collar over inspecting it further. Her eyes widened and Sonja jumped to her feet. She stomped her way to the kitchen where Kyle stood at the center island on the other side of the dining table chopping peppers. After a few moments he smiled.

“Mmm, I love that scent on you. I went ahead and used the guest shower so I could get dinner started.”

Sonja stood in the door way heaving, not knowing whether to scream or just throw the collar at him. Heat from her boiling blood rose on her skin. If she were not brown she would be glowing bright red with her anger. Kyle suddenly snapped his head in her direction and the knife fell from his fingers.

“What is it?”

Sonja’s hands shook and her heart pounded. Several emotions surfaced to ride along with the adrenaline pumping through her veins like a raging river. It was difficult to tap into one to guide her speech. Kyle shifted from one foot to the other. She could see his bottom lip trembling.

“Sonja, what’s happened? What’s wrong?”

Unable to find her voice, she held up the object in her hand to answer his question. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. She heard the soft gasp come from him and watched his face turn brilliant crimson. Just as fast as the red entered his face it disappeared leaving him pale. His eyes darted about frantically. He held onto the counter as his chest visibly expanded and deflated.

Sonja scoffed. “Don’t you dare pass out on me, Kyle! What you better do is tell me what the hell is going on,” she yelled moving past the dining table.

“Sonja, I—I—“

His stammering accelerated her anger. “Spit it out, Kyle! Is this yours?” She accentuated each word shaking the offending choker at him.

Fear glistened in his bright blue eyes. His mouth shook for a time as his voice failed to come forth before he finally nodded. Tears slid down his cheeks as his knees buckled. His shoulders sagged and he exhaled loudly continuing to nod confirming his silent confession.

“You’re somebody’s slave?” Her words spurt out as an astonished whisper. She didn’t really expect him to answer again. He looked like he would slide to the floor if she extracted any more information from him too soon. As comprehension dawned she held her head to stop the reeling. What the hell am I supposed to do with that? He was someone’s… slave? Who? When? Where? Why?

Sonja stumbled backward onto one of the chairs as questions assaulted her mind. Her breathing quickened as if she had been running. She took obvious deep breaths to calm herself. Suddenly exhaustion overtook her.

“Sweetheart, please, let me explain.”

Kyle’s plea slipped through the madness and she chuckled disbelievingly, looking up at him. “You can explain this? Really, Kyle? We have been together for ten years. Today is our seventh wedding anniversary. You can explain how come I don’t know anything about this collar in my hand with slave written on it? You’ve got an explanation that will put all this into perspective?” she asked using the band as a pointer.

When We Were Amazing

2011-11-10T15:19:00.000-08:00

There was a time, a few winters ago, when the fourteen hours of travel to fly down under was but a moment in time. Full summer Melbourne, warm breezy sun and a bouquet of wildflowers; the young man that greeted me at the airport radiated ebullient enthusiasm. Nervous? Were we not. The year and a half of emails and messages exchanged online had allowed us to know nearly everything about each other, yet nothing of true import.

So often I am asked if an author's fiction reflects true life. Whether it's a name, a scent remembered or a story lived, those who write can not help but include their experiences in their tales. From what else do we have to draw? What else would ring so true?

In the end it really does not matter where reality ends and fiction begins because a great story IS true whether or not it happened just that way,

or not.

You are cordially invited to come along on a journey of discovery. Can a young man barely out of university be convinced that there is worth in paying societies dues? Can a life-worn woman years his senior have what is truly important to offer or will the secrets she’s' so carefully guarded destroy his faith in her as a wonderful human being? I could tell you what real life dealt. You might suppose that most young men could not handle the complexities of an adult life filled with truths and tragedies lived in all its messy realism. You might be right? Or would you…

I invite you to experience one young man who has that ineffable something that separates him from the crowd—extraordinary tenacity, the willingness to grow and change even when he thinks his heart might shatter and the stuff that makes a true hero— a leap of faith toward love.

“Walk me home, Bryan.”

The smile slid from his face. Re-fastening the stud of his jeans, he turned to her. “What’s wrong, Carrie?”

“Nothing.”

“Look at me.” He hooked her chin with two fingers. “Why are you treating me like I’m suddenly a stranger?” Tilting her face up to his, he lowered his head to engage her eyes. She still had hers cast to the ground. “Come on. Did I say something wrong? I felt…it was…you were amazing.”

Her eyes scrolled in reluctance to his. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“What do you mean? You just did…and in the most incredible way.” He smiled, testing the waters of her reaction.

“It’s not you…You were perfect.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it.”

Clamping onto her shoulder he looked into her with intensity. “God damn it Carrie. Don’t start clamming up. We never did online. Why start now?”

“We never had sex online.”

He raised a dubious brow.

“Okay…so we wrote about sex. That doesn’t get you pregnant.”

“So you are worried.”

“No.”

“I should have waited to go to the chemist.” He shook his head in self-recrimination. “Should have had a condom.”

“No…I can’t.” She stiffened again in his arms.

“You can’t what?”

“I can’t get pregnant,” she spewed.

He felt his jaw drop. “You can’t…”

“Yeah. Can’t,” she reiterated in cold indifference, like a news reporter delivering a story.

He instinctively drew her to his chest, holding her body as though it might break. “I never dreamed…I think it’s…okay…”

She pulled away from him, engaging his eyes once more. “Yeah…I can tell it’s just what you had in mind.” Turning, she began to jog away from him in the direction of the high-rise hotels.

“Damn it, Carrie.” He took off after her. She quickened her pace. Shit she was fast. He broke into an all out sprint to catch her.

Hooking her arm, he twirled her about like a top. She spun into him, air knocked from her at the impact. “Let me go, Bryan,” she spouted in gasp.

“I don’t even know where you’re staying.”

“Why do you need to know? It was obviously a mistake coming here.”

He took her by the shoulders. “Listen to me Carrie. It’s you who’ve decided what’s important to me. I don’t give a rat’s arse if you can have kids.”

“Yeah…that’s why you’ve been talking about what a great dad you’re gonna be…how much you want to watch them grow up.”

She’d caught him. He had said those things when they’d exchanged hopes and dreams online. He tried to keep his expression even, but the look on his face sent her over the edge. The pain in her eyes was something he never wanted to see, never meant to cause. He knew he’d sent a knife to her heart.

She turned from him again and ran. He stood, arms hanging in impotence at his side and watched her disappear into the night, her figure reappearing in the lighting of the awning of the hotel closest.

It seemed an hour before he was able to move. His feet felt glued to the pavement; his mind reeled in self-loathing and regret. Why hadn’t he stopped her? What was wrong with him?

The chill of the night invaded him. He felt it press into his bones through the thin t-shirt he’d dragged over his head. He’d left his jacket behind under the trees where they’d...

“Damn.” The word shot from him sounding like it came from someone else. His chest ached with it. He turned toward the beach car park and walked numbly to his Rover.

****

She fell into the center of the billowing white comforter. Clothes sweaty, she shivered. The envelope of the duvet surrounded her like a comforting nest.

She lowered her head to her chest. His aftershave clung to her skin, rose around her as though he were with her again. “Damn it.” She struck the mattress with clenched fists. Why had she even brought it up? It shouldn’t matter. They were, after all, fast friends first. He was a young man. Of course he had dreams of home and family. But when he’d made love to her so tenderly, with such ardor, she’d melted. She could still feel the touch of his mouth on hers.

“God, you’re an idiot, Carrie.” Her words sounded hollow, disembodied. She grabbed the edge of the comforter and rolled herself in it like a cocoon. Sweat beaded at her forehead and a wave of nausea swept through her. She had to escape.

****

He drove through the night along the road toward Mornington, every curve and bank negotiated by rote. Taking the long way through the hills, he made a sharp turn into the overlook and skidded to a stop, tires sliding on the gravel. Pulling the emergency break, it felt as though it would fracture in his hand. The percussion of his shoulder into the door sent it flying open, recoiling back into him as he exited.

He tore into the forest, stumbling along the narrow overgrown pathway leading to the ridge. The trees thinned, and then opened onto the broad ledge of an overlook. The heels of his shoes scrapped the rock face as he came to a standstill. The only thing he could hear was the sound of his breathing straining under the demands of his descent. The town of Mornington lay below, asleep. Only the occasional porch light dotted the shadow of homes sprinkled along its perimeter. Above the sky glowed indigo into purple with impending day. It was still an hour away, but the turn of the earth allowed first light to seep into the blackness.

Eyes scrolling to the sky, he looked at the winking stars spread across the path of the Milky Way in artist’s stroke of genius. God, but he lived in a beautiful place. Why did it seem suddenly flat, cardboard? He drew the resinous air in through his nose expanding his lungs until they ached. Holding his breath for a moment, it burst out of him in a mirthless laugh. His shoulders shook with the violence of the emotion erupting from him. Abdomen contracting, he wiped at the corner of his mouth.

“God forgive me, Carrie.” The words tore from his chest. “I can’t.”

When We Were Amazing

A Novel by: Christine London

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release: November 11, 2011

Editor: Fiona Young-Brown

Line editor: Antonia Tiranth

Cover artist: Delilah K. Stephans

Words: 79402

Pages: 218

ISBN: 978-1-927361-08-5

Buy Now through MuseItUp Publishing

Coming soon to Amazon.com

MuseItUp's Authors Gathering and Mega Book Signing- Montreal

2011-11-06T08:26:00.000-08:00

Friday Night November 4th, an international representation of Muse authors gathered for a welcome aboard to celebrate the first year in business of this exciting new company.

Publisher, Lea Schizas and Promotions Goddess, Litsa Kamateros set a splendid scene in a Montreal Greek restaurant. Every author had the opportunity to speak in personal introduction. Thank you gifts were given to Lea and Litsa as well as received from these two wonderful 'boss ladies' to each author.

Nancy Bell awards gifts to Lea and Litsa

A fun competition of dress up was played.

Karen Cote dresses Heather Haven

Sandra Clark dressed by Madeleine McLaughlin

Our colleague, Karen McGrath was remembered.

And authors from around Canada and the United states got to network with each other—up until now, faces only known from the internet.

(Oh yeah...and there were (real) cheesecakes...lol)

Saturday Afternoon a Mega book signing was held at Zellers Super Store in Pointe Claire. Each and every author was thrilled to be able to meet and greet the public. There shining faces and pride in their work showed…

Charles Mossop Christine London

Barbara Ehrenthreu

Barbara Ehrenthreu If I Could Be Like Jennifer Taylor Carolyn Samuels’ freshman year becomes a series of lies to cover Jennifer Taylor’s terrible secret in return for popularity.

Charles Mossop The Devil At My Heels A modern murder mystery with a historical twist.

Kevin Craig Summer On Fire Summer…fire, bodies, murder, enemies and lies. Is it too much for three friends to handle? The race is on…

Grace De Luca Betwixt and Between Suspended between two worlds, teenager Michael must set out on a Quest in order to return to Earth. The only way home is through a fantasy land of adventure, suspense, and incredible experiences-- the world of Betwixt and Between.

Heather Haven A Wedding To Die For PI Lee Alvarez knows better than anyone when Cupid’s wings start flapping, love and murder can’t be far behind.

Arlene Webb Ashes Lyle holds his murdered brother and wants his life to end too. When the unbelievable happens, he’ll sacrifice anything to avoid the final stage of grief, and comes to learn life is just beginning.

Madeleine McLaughlin The Mountain City Bronzes How far will a community go to protect the safety of their children when they start to disappear?

Karen Cote Erotic Deception Told she’d never have children…abracadabra, she’s pregnant. Would the man she loved disappear when he found out? (Adult Content)

H.M. Prevost Desert Fire After Nick Chevalier stumbles across a plane crash in the middle of the desert, the dying pilot slips him military secrets that a ruthless terrorist is determined to possess.

Richard Burns Sweet Chocolate’s First Taste A young white soldier’s first encounter with a woman, a black woman in the racially turbulent southern US in 1979...a hooker? (Adult Content)

Sarah Durham (left), and daughter (right) The Powers A woman with a wounded past is awakened by an ancient warrior angel to fulfill a destiny meted ages before man...

and Lycan Moon A cursed seventeenth century man’s life is turned upside down when a Seattle columnist comes to town in search of a legendary werewolf

Nancy Marie Bell Laurel’s Miracle YA FANTASY Laurel isn’t out to save the world, just her mom from cancer.

Editor Natisha La Pierre

Lea Schizas Autism Epidemic Shaking the System A helpful guide to sensitize people on autism.

The Halloween Dino Trip Jillian Waylan planned the perfect Halloween party until things go a bit...wacky?

Litsa Kamateros Autism Epidemic Shaking the System A helpful guide to sensitize people on autism.

Joanne Elder Spectra

What happens when the fragile line between genius and insanity is drawn with the blood of an entire species?

Christina Schizas Ahtabat: Man’s Extinction What if you were told you had to abandon your home, your friends, your loved ones, your career, your money, your dreams, and most importantly, your life? And not only temporarily but indefinitely?

Lisa Forget (left)

Deathly Quiet Moira Murphy encounters a terrifying stranger who forces a new existence upon her - one that is deathly and quiet.

Christine London (right) Shadows Steal The Light It’s love at first sight for rock star Colin Dunlow when he runs into sultry jazz singer, Jenna Lindstrom, with a few complications. The woman of his dreams hates rockers and there’s someone who wants him dead. (Adult Content)

Sandra “S. J.” Clarke Mind Over Matter A mother faces her worst nightmare when she discovers her missing daughter is scheduled to die in mere days.

Bonella made an appearance.

Our living avatar, Karen Cote

Subspecies, Inc.- NOW AVAILABLE

2011-10-09T09:16:00.000-07:00

NOW AVAILABLE

Subspecies, Inc.

Book 2 in the Subspecies series

Author: Mike Arsuaga

Genre: Paranormal Romance Erotica - vampires/werewolves

Cover artist: Delilah K. Stephans

ISBN: 978-1-927085-80-6

Word count: 75775

Pages: 209

Back Cover:

Samantha ‘Sam’ Johnson, a Lycan, and Jim White, a Vampire, are members of a Fortune 500 company named Subspecies, Inc., formed to promote the interests of Lycans and Vampires and integrate them into humanity. Life seems blissful, a wedding, and three children. After events force The Subspecies to reveal themselves to the world, the love of Sam and Jim is tested. While on a rescue mission in the Spanish Pyrenees to save a family friend, Jim is lost for 15 months with amnesia. As memory returns he uncovers a rogue operation working to create an army of super soldiers, and putting Subspecies, Inc. at risk.

Now reunited, can Sam and Jim continue meeting the challenges of persecution and resume the effort to deepen and perfect their love? Themes of salvation and redemption blend to evolve The Subspecies, once the most reviled and feared, toward becoming the finest expression of Creation.

Incubus Lust

2011-09-27T12:23:00.000-07:00

Incubus Lust by Charlotte Davila

NOW AVAILABLE

Marcus, an accomplished demonic incubus is sent by Lilith, the Mother of All Succubi, to seduce Elizabeth Benoit, a small town diner owner whose fiancé has just left her. What he doesn’t count on is the feelings that Elizabeth stirs within him.

Excerpt:

I waited until closing time, lingering until it was just me and Elizabeth. Slowly, I walked over to her. She watched me with cautious eyes. “You’d better be on your way. Kitchen’s closed, and I’m not brewing another pot of coffee.”

“I’m not interested in another pot of coffee.” I turned on the incubus charm, pushing power into my words to sweeten the seduction.

She licked her lips and turned away. “Then what do you want?”

I drew closer to her, running my fingers over the bare skin of her arms. Her breathing quickened as my magic worked to build the lust between us. I nuzzled her neck, gently moving wisps of raven hair out of the way to take in the scent of her apricot soap. Just under that was something else—the raw scent of her pheromones—beckoning to me to take her. She’d give me her soul and Lilith would take her.

“Elizabeth,” I whispered.

Bold by Jillian Murphy NOW AVAILABLE

2011-09-12T09:11:00.000-07:00

Bold

A Short Story by: Jillian Murphy

Genre: Romantic Erotica

Cover artist: Delilah K. Stephans

NOW AVAILABLE

Jilted by a cheating ex-boyfriend, straight-laced Cassie Wells tires of spending far too many nights alone. She secures a job interview in Los Angeles hoping for a new life away from the struggles of her past.

The meeting gets postponed until the next morning and rather than face another lonely evening, Cassie follows the sounds of ‘good times’ into her hotel bar. A sexy stranger, Trevor, with his killer smile offers her a drink and in turn sets free her inhibitions. She discovers being bold can be fun…and so much more.

New Look thanks to Jazmin

2011-08-26T13:34:00.000-07:00

So what do you guys think of the HOT new look for our blog?

thanks to Jazmin for setting up both of our blogs new looks.

Lea

You're All Invited!!!

2011-08-24T08:56:00.000-07:00

Hello, my lovlies!

Sorry for my absence, but you know how busy life can get!

I just wanted to drop in and invite you all to my author chat in the Coffeetime Romance Latte Lounge on September 1st, 2011, starting at 9:00! (central time)

We're going to chat a little about everything, especially the paranormal, and everyone is welcome. You can even invite your friends and other authors, as a matter of fact, I encourage you to do so!

If you can, let me know if you'll be able to make it. I can't wait to chat with you all!

Also, I'll be guest blogging on romance author Hannah Howell's blog August 29th. Drop by and leave a comment if you can! As always, I'm offering guest blog spots, interviews, and book reviews on my new and improved blog if anyone is interested.

XOXO,
Chastity Bush
chastitybush@yahoo.com
http://chastitybush.blogspot.com/

WORKING UNDER COVERS-GETS 4 and 1/2 stars

2011-08-21T12:23:00.000-07:00

Review by Nancy M Bell

Working Under Cover

By Kat Holmes

If you’re looking for a smoking hot read pick up this little gem by Kat Holmes. The author puts an interesting twist on the legendary Greek gods and goddesses. Supposing a goddess, say Aphrodite, had to go to work for a living because tributes from the mortals are slim to none. What would happen if Aphrodite, using an assumed name of course, met and fell in love with a mere mortal? The sex scenes are on fire and so is this whimsical murder mystery short story from Kat Holmes.

Be sure to add this book to your late summer or fall reading list. You won’t need the fireplace to keep you warm.

Four and a half stars

To learn more click here; WORKING UNDER COVERS for its very own Buy Page.

And you can check out other reviews...Karen Coté's avatar gives this book FIVE TREADMILLS. She also posted reviews by Larion Willis AND Adrienne Davenport beneath her avatar, a blurb and excerpt from Working Under Covers.

Tanja Cilia, came all the way from MALTA to let us know what she thinks of Working Under Covers.

To contact Kat Holmes, Muse's very own Kitty Kat Goddess you can purr right along with, e-mail her at
MyKitty130@yahoo.com

SUMMER HEAT: GRAB IT WHILE YOU CAN

2011-08-20T19:26:00.000-07:00

August is rapidly coming to its

conclusion...what is its conclusion?

September is

biting at its posterior.

Lazy days beside the pool sipping icy tea and hovering over your

Kindle or

Nook will soon give way to

raking autumn leaves,

carving pumpkins,

stuffing turkeys and teetering from the roof top

while you plant Santa and his reindeer where every low flying aircraft will dodge

Rudolf's red nose sniffing at their

rudders.

Where DOES the time go?

Well if you are like me,

the Kindle or Nook has claimed a lot of the lazy, hazy days of summer. But just because the

sun is going to dip into the twilight at an earlier time upon your wall clock, that does not mean your hot, steamy days have to end.

I happen to know Muse It Hot Publishing has some stories coming that will keep your blood

percolating, your heartbeat racing, and your eyes glued and popping.

Let me give you a peek of what is waiting just around the bend.

September...I used to be a teacher, so for me September meant opening up my classroom, airing it out...why the place smells like

musty socks I never understood because the last thing we did before closing up for the

summer was get out the

Pinesol and

slosh around the room from top to bottom...but musty socks is still the first scent that attacks your nose when you reopen your two and a half month shut room.

I loved teaching, but I must be honest and say I do not miss that first blast of musty socks.

Instead, I look forward to crawling into my

snuggie, flipping on my

Kindle,

thank you Karen, and losing myself in the steam of the

Muse authors.

So let's get started. Today I am highlighting

September heat, right here, right now, for one and all...

I have a book coming out in September called Beyond Yesterday but it's not all that hot, so I'll just move right along. Still, it's got such a great cover, you'll forgive me won't you for wanting to share?

Should we do this alphabetically? Probably would be the best way...So lets take a gander at BOLD

Bold
A Short Story by: Jillian Murphy
Genre: Romantic Erotica
Release: September 9, 2011
Editor: Ellee Braun
Line editor: Valerie Braun
Cover artist: Delilah K. Stephans
Blurb:

Jilted by a cheating ex-boyfriend, straight-laced Cassie Wells tires of spending far too many nights alone. She secures a job interview in Los Angeles hoping for a new life away from the struggles of her past.

The meeting gets postponed until the next morning and rather than face another lonely evening, Cassie follows the sounds of ‘good times’ into her hotel bar. A sexy stranger, Trevor, with his killer smile offers her a drink and in turn sets free her inhibitions. She discovers being bold can be fun…and so much more.

Excerpt:

He reaches for my hand and leans in close, allowing me a whiff of his cologne, musky and strong. Damn, he smells good.

“Sit with me.”

I nod.

He pulls me through the crowd and when we reach the couch, he says, “It’s much quieter over here.”

"Yes, thanks.” I sit across from him, resting my back against the pillowed chair and slide one leg over the other. Definitely the best looking guy I’ve ever seen.

“I’m Trevor, by the way.” He scoops a handful of peanuts and slinks into the couch.

“Cassie.”

He studies me but my focus lingers on his jaw, which flexes after he pops in a peanut and chews. His tongue licks off the salt. God, I’d love to be a peanut. He looks at me with green eyes, one side of his mouth curled into a half-smile.

Not bad for a teaser beginning, dontcha think.

What's next? I'm wondering too...so let's pull the next sheet up and reveal more...Ahhh one of my favorites...now I know there are those that will say..."Well of course. Kat IS her daughter." You'd be right. I'll admit I LOVE my daughter's writing voice and this IS book two in her Gods At Work Series...

The Heart of the Queen...don't you just ADORE the cover done for Kat by Muse's Head Cover Art Goddess Delilah K. Stephans? Kat and I both

LOVE the peacock...

Hera's peacock...ooops I think I just gave away which of the Greek Pantheon this story is about. Warning though. put on your asbestos knickers and have your

fire extinguisher at hand for this one...

Gods at Work Series, Book Two

Kat Holmes
Genre: Paranormal Romance Erotica, GLBT/Menage
Release: September 9, 2011
Editor: Carrie RO
Line editor: Greta Gunselman
Cover artist: Delilah K. Stephans
Blurb:

Forced to work among mortals for financial reasons, Hera embraces her childbearing skills and becomes a midwife. Living in Vermont with the mortal identity of Heather Juno, she meets two stunning men through a client.

But Hera is reluctant to get involved with either man after her ex-husband spent thousands of years cheating on her.

Veterans of the Iraq war, James and Noah are used to fighting for what they want, and they are not about to give Hera up.

They are ready to battle for The Heart Of The Queen.

Excerpt: Coming Soon

WOW!!! STEAMY!
What's next...we're on a roll here!

WOOO...

The Dark Side of the Incubi...

Incubus Lust

A Short Story by: Charlotte Davila
Genre: Erotica Romance
Release: September 23, 2011
Editor: Fiona Young-Brown
Line editor: Greta Gunselman
Cover artist: Suzanne Safi
Words: 3389
Pages: 17
Price: $0.99
Warning: Adult Content: contains explicit sexual scenes and language.
Blurb:

Marcus, an accomplished demonic incubus is sent by Lilith, the Mother of All Succubi, to seduce Elizabeth Benoit, a small town diner owner whose fiancé has just left her. What he doesn’t count on is the feelings that Elizabeth stirs within him.

Excerpt:

I waited until closing time, lingering until it was just me and Elizabeth. Slowly, I walked over to her. She watched me with cautious eyes. “You’d better be on your way. Kitchen’s closed, and I’m not brewing another pot of coffee.”

“I’m not interested in another pot of coffee.” I turned on the incubus charm, pushing power into my words to sweeten the seduction.

She licked her lips and turned away. “Then what do you want?”

I drew closer to her, running my fingers over the bare skin of her arms. Her breathing quickened as my magic worked to build the lust between us. I nuzzled her neck, gently moving wisps of raven hair out of the way to take in the scent of her apricot soap. Just under that was something else—the raw scent of her pheromones—beckoning to me to take her. She’d give me her soul and Lilith would take her.

“Elizabeth,” I whispered.

Is you inner

thermometer percolating as much as mine is? I don't think the month of September is big enough for me to handle any more...Wow!

The Wise Ones at

Muse It Hot Publishing wing of Muse It Up Publishing, Inc. must have guessed...So I am going to go take a

cold shower and anticipate September. I wonder, should I place my Kindle in cold storage just in case?

See you all in October.

WORKING UNDER COVERS-MALTA APPROVED WITH 5 STARS

2011-08-19T04:00:00.000-07:00

She lives in

Malta, and has been involved in the world of words since she was a mere teenager. Yes I DID say TEENAGER. Hired before she ever moved the tassle from one side of her high school

mortar board to the other, she has been a contributor to one of the leading newspapers in Malta ever since.

She's also the author of some very popular children stories...and I know I am going to spell this wrong, but here goes: FLEUR AND LEE stories.

She just sent a review along for

Kat Holmes' debut GODS AT WORK series:

Working Under Cover.

Please let me introduce you all to

TANJA CILIA and her words.

Cereal; echo; hygiene; jovial; museum; nemesis; volcano…; and more. All these words that have come down to us from the gods of Greek mythology. According to some, they still walk among us, albeit in disguise. And no one knows this better than Kat Holmes, who has gone Under Cover to investigate what these gods and goddesses get up to when they are not at home – or rather, when they are. It is a well-known fact that fools will rush in where angels fear to tread; and for three young ladies, joining a dating service meant just that - they went missing in “action”. Definitely not because they eloped with a sugar daddy. And this, for an agency that boasts a 100% success rate because it’s the owner’s personal touch and not a computer programme that does the matching, is unacceptable. So Jordan Cade, in between other activities, attempts to unravel the lies, damn lies, and statistics, aided and hindered by the charms of Ariel Schell who is also Aphrodite in ‘real’ life. Five scintillating stars for Kat Holmes.

Tanja

ธัญญ่า
Tanja can be reached via e-mail at:

tanjacilia@hotmail.com

Maybe Once Or Twice In A Lifetime- A Blog Following Two MuseItHot Authors in Greece

2011-08-18T12:08:00.000-07:00

Once or twice in a lifetime you might have the extreme good luck to stumble upon a person whose life and aspirations so closely mirror your own that you are instantly connected. One such person in my life is my friend and fellow Muse Authoress, Viviane Brentanos. It just so happens that she lives in a pretty amazing place--The island of Corfu, Greece.

Both of us are drawn to write stories of struggle and triumph, passion and everyday extraordinary people. When we met online we began a nearly daily interaction that has included, what she terms 'the slashing' of each other's work, as well as sharing thoughts and feelings about everything under the sun.

The waning days of July found me landing at Corfu's small airport, renting a car and making my way around the bay to the Hotel Oasis where Viviane works as front desk clerk/hostess/psychologist/stand-in parent and jack of most trades.

Corfu's economy is largely dependent on tourism, most of which occurs between May and September. During the cool rainy winter months the residents return to their quiet lives, but during high season it's seven days a week long hours spent smiling and tending to the onslaught.

This is my second visit to Corfu. This time I had the pleasure of meeting Viv's boss and family owner of the hotel. A host this rare should be mentioned. Generous and helpful, Petros made our time at his lovely little hotel a gem.

The Oasis clings to the cliff side and overlooks the crystal clear Ionian Sea. Little Mouse Island dots the warm aqua/azure water and families from all over the region enjoy its private beach, daily breakfast served on a large open air terrace and sparkling pool.

Touring about the island affords many more gorgeous vistas, none the equal of Viv's little corner of the world, but magnificent nonetheless. From Agios Gordios distinctive offshore rock spiking from the sea,

to the tiny villages that reflect Greece past,

to the nightlife action and rocking sea sport town of Kavos,

and the beautiful curve of Roda's cafe-lined beach,

the world weary traveler can find endless beauty and a way of life not unlike that of a small town anywhere.

People know each other, care about each other and, yes, sometimes gossip about each other. But isn't this a sign of human connection so many of us crave in this impersonal work-a-day society?

Don't expect to hear much English should you choose to visit, but almost everyone knows it and uses it as the lingua franka. Mythos--perhaps the best lager in the world, flows plentifully.

Pitas are unlike their cousin Gyros, but every bit as delicious and the local Kumquat Liqueur is served over ice or with a swirl of cream.

Sailboats and yachts abound.

The night time sky like a diamond spattered ebony velvet. Cicadas sing in the trees and the smell of junipers mingle with baked earth and grass.

From thirty thousand feet it looks like a dream.

Small wonder this Italian flavoured jewel is sought after for relaxation by those in the know.

Thanks for the insider tip, Viv.

Christine London
Author of Reluctant Companions
Visit my website at www.christinelondon.com for the latest!

Fall In Love--- Hawaii

2011-08-18T09:00:00.000-07:00

Hundreds of blog readers have read my travel logs, enjoying words and photos of some of the world's most beautiful places. Now you can revel in a visceral love letter to...

Hawaii.

My time in the islands always lures me back. One of the true treasures of this planet, Oahu teams with abundant flora and fauna. The beauty of an island is its isolation from mainland evolution. North shore--frozen in time.

Hawaii is magic.

If you have loved the many far flung locales here on London Blog, click over to MuseItHot Publisher and fall in LOVE with...

Reluctant Companions

Coming Friday August 19, 2011...
Order Here
ISBN 978-1-927085-36-3

Grieving the loss of her beloved father, Chellie is convinced to take time off from her work-a day job to enjoy a secret retreat at a hidden Oahu bungalow. Property of the womanizing ex of her best friend, Chellie agrees only after being assured her privacy. Overworked, burnt out and sour on life, Scottish film star Cameron McClain nearly had to be hog tied by his manager to take a holiday at his secret escape destination on the Hawaiian North shore. Reluctant guests alone on one of the world’s most beautiful islands---except they are not alone…

Excerpt:

A movement, a shadow disturbed her peripheral vision just enough to jolt her from her uninvited anguish. Forcing her senses to sharpen, she sniffed back the need for a tissue and tiptoed to the edge of the lanai. Wrong part of the world for Sasquatch, she thought, briefly wondering if the Hawaiians had similar legend. Too laid back…Polynesian paralysis would prohibit such disturbing musings. They were the invention of overworked, stressed people trying to escape the insistent demands of the modern world. No such burden here in the land of Mahalo and hang loose.

It occurred to her that it was not the world she’d just left behind. She was about as far away from relaxed as an over processed perm.

The rain had ceased, the liquid chorus continued from every leaf and petal as they shed the weight of the passing storm. Straining to differentiate any foreign sound from the thrum of droplets splashing along on their journey from foliage to earth, she held her normal breathing in check, mouth open as means of silencing her own autonomic noise. Scrolling the immediate horizon like a cat burglar avoiding detection, she reached for the bamboo railing to steady her.

Bounding through the slick underbrush flashed the silhouette of a man in forward trajectory, a parabola of doom the likes of which she’d not seen since her friend Jill had taken a spill off her snowboard on the slopes of Lake Tahoe’s Diamond Peak. That had cost Jill six weeks in traction and her gift for belly dancing.

“Shite.” The ensuing male explicative sounded like the fated call of a condemned man.

Undergrowth rustling, banana tree quaking, the ground cover had swallowed whoever it was that had evidently survived the fall. A part of her didn’t want to stick around to see what emerged from the forest floor, but her sense of philanthropy held in check her initial urge to turn tail and run. The banana tree shook violently a long moment later, large elliptical leaves bending, seeming to disappear into the undergrowth as though some great herbivore were consuming them.

It took Chellie another indeterminate amount of time to realize her jaw was slack and she was indeed gaping at the commotion in dread and morbid anticipation. Like a newborn colt standing for the first time, the specter of a man emerged from the plants, body slick and smeared with the russet earth, hair drenched, spaghetti-like in wild abandon, frame struggling to attain upright stature in a curious combination of strength, embarrassment and anger. Whites of his eyes glowing in the dusk, he continued his colorful diatribe.

“Bleedin’ vines…snarlin’ round the f**kin’--”

His eyes snagged on her, his expression escalating from irritation to rage. “And who the fookin’ hell are you?” He evaluated her face a second longer, realizing that her eyes were dropping to inspect him…the whole of him…filthy, wet and… “Shite,” he rasped again, yanking the banana leaves he held at his sides at lightning speed to cover his privates. The ensuing image of him was of a Michelangelo statue run through the mud, covered by a mutant fig leaf.

She clung to reason just long enough to see the humor in the image before her. She also couldn’t help but notice that the man was spectacular. In the light of the ascending moon, his skin looked like polished marble slick with sweat and dirt, but undeniably sculpted. And the effigy of his face was worth the price of admission alone. He was the most extraordinary surreal mixture of anger, self-reprimand and pure animal earthiness.

“The owner of this private estate. So take your damn banana leaves and get out.” She struggled to maintain an expression worthy of being taken seriously, feigning the sudden need to wipe at something at the corner of her mouth.

“So you’re a squatter as well as a liar.” He looked up at her in inflamed irritation. “I’ve the keys to prove you wrong.”

“What keys? There’s not a door within twenty miles.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve the true owner’s jeep parked just the other side of the stream leadin’ here.”

She leaned further over the railing in growing indignation. “And that’s supposed to convince me of your authenticity.’”

He moved forward, making his way to the stairs that ascended to the lanai. “I’ve me bleedin’ gear in the bedroom to—.” He paused half way up the steps, rotating one of the banana leaves to cover his rear. “Why the hell do I owe you any explanation? I’ve been here three days now and have no intention of sharin’ the surroundin’s with some…some…woman.” The final word he emphasized with particular disgust.

She instinctively backed away, he presenting a very large, threatening countenance that screamed menace. Reaching for a cylindrical shape on the lanai table, she kept her eyes on him. Grasping it by Braille, she raised it over her head like a nightstick.

His expression melted from angst to humor in a flash. “What ya goin’ ta do, spray me to death, woman?” He snorted, tension draining from his body like water through a sieve.

She shot a glance to the object in her hand. Bug spray? Shit! Stay cool. Raising it higher over her head, she shrieked, “Back off, buddy.”

His abdomen contracted in mirth. “Unless you’ve been trained in the modern martial art of fumigation, I think I’m safe.”

“Fine, smart ass, but you’re gonna have to…” She slid her eyes to his groin and back in one lightning glance. “…Drop your leaves to get it away from me.”

He folded over in a spasm of laughter. She moved toward him. In a blink, he recovered full stature. She froze.

“It appears we’re at a stand off.” He pulled the leaves tighter against his body. “Let’s compromise. You put the insect repellant back in its place and I shall relieve you of the substantial burden of havin’ a naked man on the doorstep.”

She lowered the can. “Now you’re talking. Five minutes to get your stuff and hit the road. "

Reluctant Companions By Christine London

MuseItHot Publishing- http://tinyurl.com/3nns7px

UP IN THE SKY...NO RIGHT HERE AMONG US; THE GODS HAVE LANDED.

2011-08-15T14:32:00.000-07:00
I can see by the

skeptical arch of your

brow you do not

believe me, but it is true. The

gods, those wily, talented bunch from Greek Mythology...well they are so

NOT Myths.

Turn to your right. See that

hunky guy crossing the street carrying a newspaper...looks like someone you'd drool over on a cover of a top notch

Men's magazine right?

Bet you didn't know the gods originated the drool worthy look did you...but they did.

Something else you probably didn't know...they've got

a problem.

What,

I can hear your brain screaming, could THEY have

a problem over? It's not like they don't have

luxurious temples floating up there in

Olympus, nor are they strapped for magical powers we can only dream of having...Imagine being

five thousand years old and still looking like you're a hale and hearty

25-30?

Ponce deLeon would never have had to trudge through the mosquito infested

Florida Everglades looking for the

Fountain of Youth if he'd been born a god. Of course it might not be such a great thing for

Plastic Surgeon's...no

saggy breasts,

droopy jowls,

flabby underarms,

puckered thighs, or

overflowing tummies.

But back to the Olympians among us. Why would they leave the palatial homes they each possess up there, come down here,

disguise themselves as humans and

move secretly amongst us?

Kat Holmes, a brilliant

investigative author polished up her magnifying glass, donned her homage paying

deerstalker and without any

Watson in sight set to work

unraveling the mystery.

You all know about the financial crisis we are all having here on Earth...well it's worse up there.

Stop scoffing! Think about it. How have the gods made their living all these many centuries?

Yep by

scooping up the tributes we pesky humans left behind in their temples while

begging for them to get off those well pampered

duffs and DO something FOR us for a change.

Does anyone remember a story of the gods where they actually did

GOOD for mankind? Okay they gave

Helen to Paris of Troy, but didn't that set the

ball rolling for a ten year war that eventually crushed

Troy into oblivion?

So it's safe to presume modern man, struggling to put food in his own family's mouths and keep

the over inflated roofs over their heads is not going to do as his ancestors and

robotically parade into the Greek temples, drop their meager coin and leave.

The tithing has come perhaps not to a complete

...there will always be those who hold onto

false hope like dogs ripping

a bone for that last soft mound of marrow, but the numbers are not big enough to keep the Pantheon untouched my mankind's lack of largess.

Zeus, the lazy old-young sod is not about to get up off his silk and velvet covered bed to come down and earn his keep. He does, however, have another asset he can quite easily exploit. The old

toad has a LOT of

offspring.

You all remember hearing rumors about George Washington sleeping here and there? Well in

Zeus' case his randiness is NOT a rumor and did

beget lots of offspring.

Before we go ANY further, you need to know, Kat's reports about the antics of the gods among us are not for the

What those devils don't know about

"getting it on"

doesn't exist...SO if

hot and really

heavy is not your

cup of tea, turn off your computer right now, head for your can, strip, step into the

tub and flip the cold water on full jet. You just cannot risk any residual

flames leaping from Kat's report and finding you

weaker of hearts.

The first report is classified under the innocuous...yeah right...title of WORKING UNDER COVERS.

Guys get out your blinders because

Aphrodite the Goddess of Love and Beauty is right here in the good old

US of A ...oh you guys across any of the ponds...you're no safer than we are. Why? Aphrodite is

ON the NET!

Computer dating...she's a perfect fit and her

CA based company has an almost

100% success rate...except for one annoying

little glitch...three of the women have gone missing and

Jordan Cade, retired

Homicide detective, now PI is on the job.

Dangerous times. Aphrodite utilizing her "earth" name

Ariel Schell takes one look at Jordan and her inner goddess starts drooling.

Jordan, middle aged,

twice divorced father of a twenty year old daughter takes one look at Ariel and his masthead aims for the skies...literally, although he doesn't know that...yet.

HOT...

HOT...

HOT SEX, the kind that will leave you in a pool follows as the Goddess of Love and her more than willing

chase down the mysteries surrounding the disappearances.

How close

at hand is the trouble and

where and whom will it

strike against next?

I don't give spoilers, but you need to know

ANOTHER goddess made a

cameo appearance too. Should I tell you whom? Nah...it's

But I can tell you the answer is in those classified

papers turned into

Muse It Hot Publishing's

investigative wing and has been turned into a professional

dossier you will not want to miss.

So go to the Muse It Up Bookstore and have at it.

For now, I am

Kat's second report is coming through the

fax machine as I'm typing, but I can almost guarantee

with more of Kat Holmes' reports in the weeks and months to come. (There are a LOT of Zeus offspring. It might take a decade or more for Kat to

unmask all that walk among us.)

Fast Girls Are True

2011-08-13T13:37:00.000-07:00

Fast Girls Are True
Book One in The Panty Droppers Series

A Novella by: Tigra-Luna LeMar

Genre: Interracial Erotica Romance

Release: August 19, 2011
Cover artist: Delilah K. Stephans
Warning: For Adults only. Contains graphic sexual scenes and language.

Jonica "Jon" Samuels is a woman that knows what she wants in life. The problem is, it seems the world is conspiring against her. She wants to become the first female motorcycle racer to qualify and win the Shinobi Grand Prix. No business will sponsor her and she cannot run her cycle without a sponsor--she's barely making ends meet as is. When Derrick Bridger offers to sponsor her, she feels like the luckiest woman alive--that is until the sexy businessman begins to seep beneath her skin.

This Time Forever by L.J. Holmes

2011-08-12T19:21:00.000-07:00

This Time Forever

A Short Story by L.J. Holmes

Genre: Sweet Romance - Naughty but Nice!

Release: August 12, 2011
Cover artist: Delilah K. Stephans
NOW AVAILABLE

Cassie and Jake are headed for their first face-to-face meeting after two years of talking on the Internet and on the phone.

Already nervous, excited, and feeling insecure, they both begin having visions of ancient Pompeii.

In their visions they are caught up in the drama enfolding between a hunky Centurion and his former Hestian virgin slave in the weeks, days, and hours before Mt. Vesuvius erupts.

The passion between the Centurion and his slave lover scorch the air surrounding Cassie and Jake as they journey towards THEIR first meeting.
What does it mean and why do they keep getting pulled back into the approaching tragedy of these two hotter than any lava can be lovers from so long ago?

Written in Stone by Viviane Brentanos

2011-08-09T07:25:00.000-07:00

Written in Stone
By Viviane Brentanos
Contemporary Romance Erotica
NOW AVAILABLE

Dumped five days before her wedding,

Cassandra Hall decides not to waste the honeymoon. She sets off to London. What was supposed to be her dream week turns into a nightmare time of introspect, self-doubt. Then she meets James, literally falling at his feet in an attempt to save his Afghan hound from colliding head on with the traffic.

James is witty, charming, too good-looking and also--not available. Despite this, Cassie is captivated by him. What follows is a week of fun, companionship and a bonding that Cassie has never experienced.
James, sensing Cassie’s unhappiness, goes out of his way to make up for her jerk of a fiancé’s rejection. He is drawn to her vulnerability--something he finds disturbing, threatening to shatter all he thought he knew about himself. Cassie, he senses, is falling in love with him. He ought to back away but cannot. Cassie bravely makes her true feelings known and when he rejects her, he knows he has broken her heart. He is left confused, guilty because....James has a secret.

Freed from Fear by Jaxx Steele

2011-07-25T06:20:00.000-07:00

Freed from Fear
A Short Story by: Jaxx Steele

Genre: Contemporary Romance M/M

NOW AVAILABLE

Warning: This book contains spanking situations, graphic sexual content, rough sex, anal sex, and m/m intercourse.

Leaving New York was the hardest thing Dana Scott had to do. 911 had taken the love of his life. Although the pain had eased over time he decided to remain single.
Francisco de la Fuenta was a charming, charismatic, social butterfly that men and women loved to be around. ‘Frank’ had everything a man of his caliber could want: his own business, a great social life, and true friends. What he didn’t have, he didn’t know he needed until Dana Scott came into his life.

Going Hog Wild

2011-07-22T03:02:00.000-07:00
"Christine London has a remarkable way with language and her descriptions
are just breathtaking."

Hog Wild is reviewed by 100 Romances Project at:

http://bit.ly/noYgbh

Sinclair MacTavish ruled the world of motorcycle mechanics able to repair anything under the Four Corners sun. But when a cynical, road weary Brit crashes through the door of her garage, she's in for more than just another cantankerous client. He may be the challenge of her life.

The unique calming vibration of the Heritage Classic under him rumbled through his body in comforting familiarity, a quarter ton of throbbing Harley between his legs. The only soul on the road for as far as the horizon extended, he still felt the disquieting rupture in his psyche. He couldn't get far enough away from his everyday life to escape the disappointment and pain of having lost out to his best mate. The gentle sloping arrow of blistering pavement beneath his tires stretched out before him like some metaphorical bookmark pointing the way to his future.

Not even the otherworldly stark grandeur of the wind carved monolithic edifices haunting the American Southwest's mystical Monument Valley could distract him from his mission. Every mile he put between himself and Los Angeles was that much further from her; the woman he couldn't have.

Torrid fingers of dry air ripped at the wisps of hair protruding from beneath his helmet, lashing wildly about his neck. The muffled sound of its relentless assault droned in his ears, providing meditative background noise as accompaniment to his interminable self lecturing. The rumble of the engine vibrated in his hands as they grasped the accelerator on each end of the handlebars.

"Those motorbikes are nothing but glamorized deathtraps...organ donor makers, dear." His mother's voice played like a bad tape recording in his head. "Don't ever even consider one, son."

He grumbled low in his chest. The ache of loss still made his lungs feel like they'd been scraped with steel wool and set out to dry in the desert sun. Shooting onto the verge of the road, a red cloud of dust spun up from his rear wheel as he felt the drag of the softer surface easily eaten by the power of the bike beneath him.

Change. He needed change. Anything to tempt fate, to stop the feelings that scaulded his gut like acid spilled from a lab beaker. That's why he'd rented the hog, as American blokes called it. Top of the line Harley cruiser, speed and hot metal all under his control. Open country, no people, no committments, no fucking loud rock music, just the elements and the man. Medicinal...right?

So why couldn't he get her beautiful lavendar eyes out of his head, those sad eyes laced with a tinge of pity. That had been the hardest thing to take. Miss Jenna Lindstrom felt for him. He knew she cared, but she loved Colin. And so did he, God damn it. Colin Dunlow was his best friend and top client as manager and agent of the world renowned rock group, Dumbarton. Yes, Kyle Matthews was the best music agent in the business. Alot of good that did him now as he rocketed across the desert southwest in a cloud of pain and regret.

Out of the Shade by Diane Barr

2011-07-15T09:11:00.000-07:00

Out of the Shade
by Diane Barr
Urban Fantasy Erotica Romance
NOW AVAILABLE

Warning: This story may contain material not suited for readers under the age of 18, including graphic sex, language and violence.

Blurb:

Faeries that carry katanas and guns instead of sprinkling magic dust and granting wishes. Dragons that reanimate the dead. Drug-crazed goblins terrorizing neighborhoods. Illegal demons attempting to conjure the alter ego of an Egyptian goddess.

Sounds like something out of a nightmare, right? Wrong. It’s my everyday life.

Welcome to the Shade, where all the creatures of myth hang out and where I, Detective Gabrielle Tate of the Supernatural Task Force, police them. My partner is AWOL and my sexy dragon boss is leaving nothing to chance as we deal with goblins high on Escape and a serial killer—or worse, a nest of rogue vampires—leaving the drained corpses of faeries and cops all over town.

And then there’s the psychotic demons trying to conjure the goddess Hathor’s alter ego, Sekhmet, to destroy humanity. As a faery and direct descendent of Hathor, I’m eager to manifest her power and use it to combat evil. At the same time, I need to learn how to control the accompanying bloodlust. How? By taking lessons from the charismatic leader of the local vampire clan, of course.
If you thought the mean streets of Detroit were tough, you’ve never seen the Shade.

2011-07-10T13:52:00.000-07:00

NOW AVAILABLE
Sugar Magnolia
by Janie Franz

Music journalist and artist Shivaun Corbin is on assignment at Sugar Magnolia, the Mississippi home of classic rocker Daniel Madux. She has been charged with creating a retro cover for Daniel’s latest album, a comeback CD that incorporates a more modern sound with his 70s rock. When she enters the household on this sprawling plantation, she encounters an odd assortment of characters with secrets of their own while she works hard to avoid being another of Daniel Madux’s conquests. Young instrumental protégé Connor is determined to protect Shivaun from Daniel’s pursuit. Shivaun is distracted by Connor’s attentions and those of one of the female backup singers as more secrets are revealed and the past comes rushing into the present. Sugar Magnolia offers an inside look at the music industry and one woman’s place in it.

READ THE EXCERPT

In From the Cold coming soon!

2011-06-06T10:26:00.000-07:00

In From the Cold by L.J. Holmes
Releasing June 10
Contemporary Romance Erotica
BUY PAGE

Mari loves men who are intimately communicating with the Grim Reaper, like her only mountain neighbor, ninety-plus year old Hector. Twelve years and now she's enjoying her solitude, till Hector ups and dies.

He leaves everything to her, with one stipulation...she must sell his cabin to collect her inheritance.

Determined to keep her world testosterone free she commands her real estate agent to not even show the curmudgeon's cabin to anyone under the age of sixty-five.

Mari must leave for her son's wedding in the mid west for one month. Necessity requires she sign temporary power of attorney for a possible quick sale over to her real estate agent. A bad, but necessary move.

He's moving in and her son's age with rippling muscles, and far too much testosterone. All summer, Mari hunkers inside and drools.

Determined to make this stop, she sees only one solution...jump his bones, do the deed and get the annoying SOB out of her system once and for all.
Like most well designed plans, something always happens to blow them to smithereens, and now, three agonizing days later, a huge blizzard is about to hit the mountain, isolating the two cabins from the outside world...Oh Dear!

Hog Wild by Christine London

2011-06-04T07:00:00.000-07:00

Hog Wild by Christine London
Contemporary Romance Erotica
NOW AVAILABLE

Kyle Matthews might have the music world by the horns, but when he loses out in love to his most famous client and best friend, he escapes into the wilds of the desert southwest on a restorative motorcycle trip. Will the hard driving, salty tongued gorgeous mechanic he relies upon to fix his Harley be able to mend his heart, as well?

Citadel of Women by Lisabet Sarai

2011-05-29T18:22:00.000-07:00

Citadel of Women
by Lisabet Sarai
Releasing June 17

Doa had planned to explore the ancient temples of Angkor with her lover Laurel. When Laurel breaks off their relationship to please her dying mother, Doa resolves to travel to Cambodia alone. Amid the heat and dust of Siem Reap, confronted by the stark monuments of a lost civilization, Doa struggles against loneliness and frustrated lust. The tour guide Che reaches out to her, offering a feverish night of pleasure.     But is an erotic encounter with someone from a totally different world enough to heal her heart?

Excerpt:

Dinner was served on the hotel terrace overlooking a small garden. The moist air was a soft, heavy blanket, laced with the scents of jasmine and mosquito coils. Two dim bulbs lit the scene with a golden glow. Our group sat together at a long table, consuming spicy fish, garlicky vegetables, and mounds of rice. I sat at the far end, nearest the garden, listening to the multi-lingual chatter, the clink of silverware, the droning of the insects in the trees. I had never felt so alone.

All at once, he was there, settling his loose-limbed frame into the chair across from me. He plunked an amber bottle misted with condensation down in front of me. “You look like you could use this.”

He took a swig from his own beer. Not knowing what to say, I did the same. The icy liquid slid down my throat.

“Good?”

I nodded and drank again before turning the bottle to examine the label. “Angkor Beer?” I laughed.

“Why not? One of our leading exports.” He tilted the bottle back. I watched his brown throat move as he swallowed. “Possibly the only thing most people know about our country.”

“Really?” It was difficult to talk to him, difficult not to stare at his mobile, expressive face. Fortunately, the beer offered a convenient alternative to conversation.

We drank for a while in silence. I wondered how I could politely excuse myself.

He replaced his bottle on the table. “You really miss her, don't you?”

My eyes filled with tears. Somehow, though, it was a relief to admit it to someone, even to him. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Is she your lover?” I'd read Cambodia was a conservative country, but Che didn't seem shocked by the idea at all.

“Was. She broke it off just before we were supposed to leave on this trip.”

“Why?” The question was completely inappropriate, but I could see he wanted to know.

I buried my face in my hands. What could I say? How could he ever understand?

I heard the scrape of his chair as he rose. His hand rested briefly on my bare shoulder. “Whatever the reason,” he murmured, “I think she was crazy.”
By the time I looked up, he had returned to his seat at the other end of the table. “Make it an early night,” he told the group. “We've got to be up at five tomorrow.” He did not look at me again, but still the imprint of his fingers lingered on my flesh.

To get instant notification when Citadel of Women releases click on NOTIFY ME in our bookstore.

Mom & Our Crazy Memorable Times Together

2011-05-22T06:01:00.000-07:00

By Kay Dee Royal

My mother birthed four daughters, me being the oldest and also the tallest in my family. Mom loved playing the piano, especially her favorites: Five Foot Two Eyes of Blue and Alley Cat. I don’t know if anyone here recalls the Lennon Sisters, but my mother determined her girls would be singing stars on either the Amateur Hour or The Ed Sullivan Show. She lined us up – tallest to shortest – and then, yes, we sang. I recall getting angry when my sisters didn’t sing right. I think I even huffed off a few times;)

Mom wore these slippery-soled flip-flop slippers any time she didn’t have to go out anywhere. She fell down our basement stairs wearing those things. We all heard the fall. She moaned and it scared us. I was pretty young when this happened and afraid I wouldn’t be able to help her, so I called our neighbor, Roger. None of us walked downstairs until Roger came. Mom was so embarrassed when Roger flew down the steps and found her sprawled out on the floor in her nightie. Apparently, she’d been afraid to move and he got an exact shot of her landing. She ended up being okay, lots of bruises, including her ego.

One summer vacation my sisters and I decided we’d get Mom into the lake. She was deeply afraid of the water, didn’t like getting her face wet. We talked her into floating out on an air mattress with us, promising we’d not float out too deep. It was a bit of a fiasco getting her on the air mattress without her getting wet. We pulled her and the floaty out near the end of the dock. She lay back, tense yet smiling. All appeared good. A couple of us girls swam beneath her and bumped her in the bottom through the mattress. Mom screamed and shot off that thing so fast. She went completely underwater and panicked, even though it was shallow enough she could have stood up just fine.

Mom got so darn mad at us. Coughing and sputtering all the way to the beach where she shoved her feet into those darn flip-flop slippers. She rushed up concrete block steps toward the cottage and halfway she fell, taking a nice chunk out of her shin. It put her out of commission for the rest of vacation, left a nasty scar too. Needless to say, we all got into bigger than normal trouble over it.

After Dad and Mom divorced, she threw herself into fun and bought a convertible car. I was fourteen at the time and freaked about anyone seeing me in that thing. None of my friends’ parents had anything like it. I honestly rode around in it with my head bent down over my knees so no one would see me. Well, one day, Mom insisted I ride in the front passenger seat. My sisters sat in the back. Mom made me sit straight up…so, when we drove up to a railroad crossing (at a time before stop signs or RR crossing gates were around to stop a car) I yelled, “TRAIN.”

Mom screamed and slammed the brakes, tires screeching and sisters hollering too. I swear we all had whip-lash. She reacted instantly and once stopped, she noticed there wasn’t a train. Another simultaneous reaction occurred...my first slap across the face. I must say, looking back, it was well deserved.

I wonder how Mom could stand putting up with us, but thankfully, she always did.

At Prom time, Mom and I shopped for a dress everywhere. I wasn’t the easiest body for fitting – 6 ft. tall, broad shoulders, with a wire thin body. We didn’t find anything. I decided I wasn’t going to prom. Mom and one of her friends, Marilyn, made me a dress, sky blue, empire fitted, a-line skirt, floor length, sleeveless, and so beautiful. My hands shook as I tried it on, and it fit like a glove. Mom came through shining like a super-star. We both got emotional over it.

As we all got older and Mom lost her second husband, we began taking Mother/Daughter trips, a couple to Branson, MO; Brown County, IN; Door County, WI; and Chicago, IL. We’d take one a year, took lots pictures, and acted like crazy kids. These trips gave us such meaningful memories, reminiscing, laughing, picking on each other – lots of pictures, Mom smiling in all of them with her daughters.

Then Mom’s darn slippers came into play…again. December 5, 2005 she slid out her back stairs and fell on a corner of her picnic table. She spent days in the hospital from a punctured lung cavity. After some extra testing, one thing leading to another, it was discovered Mom had a football helmet of TIA’s, a network of mini strokes throughout her brain. She also came home wearing oxygen because of COPD (compromised lungs).

A few years later, Mom was diagnosed with dementia, which gradually increased its debilitating affects on her. One sister, who lived close, and I divided our time monitoring Mom so she could stay in her duplex apartment. She had such an abhorrence of Nursing Homes (and to think she’d worked in one for years…maybe that’s why). She also refused to live with any of her daughters. “Won’t be a burden,” she’d say.

On August 5, 2010, Mom passed away, quickly and without pain or suffering by a massive hemorrhaging stroke.

Those crazy darn slippers, her favorite blue slippery-soled flip-flops, found their way into Mom’s casket. The sisters and I agreed those slippers were part of Mom’s world and should go along on her next journey.

Through years of teasing, making fun, and also loving my mother, she loved me unconditionally. This authentic love was her one major life lesson. She shared it well, without my even realizing it was a lesson. Bless you, Mom.

Books By Kay Dee Royal:

Big Girls Don't Cry Wolf (Paranormal Erotica Romance) - Through Muse It Hot Publishing - Find it at:
Muse It Up bookstore - http://tinyurl.com/2gyh8gj or Amazon bookstore   http://tinyurl.com/3qn6zoe

One Plus One (Contemporary Erotica Romance) - Releasing December 2011 Through Muse It Hot Publishing

2011-05-20T06:22:00.000-07:00

In January, I started sharing 6 lines with an amazing group every Sunday. It’s been a wonderful way to get to know other authors and their voices. To celebrate the birthday of my debut novel, I grouped the posts I’ve made for Ashes, including the one set to go this Sunday.

Opening Six Lines:

Raw thirst dominated Lyle’s fantasy. Cracked ribs, battered leg, ankle bruised by the shackle, three broken fingers, deep slashes along inner thighs, and bone jutting through muscle in the left arm—it all lay crushed under the need for water. Images of shimmering droplets danced behind his crusted eyelids.
How long did it take for a male in his prime to die? The metal rod had been staked deep into the desert soil of Las Vegas.  Lyle no longer struggled against the chain, tried to shelter his skin from the searing heat, or screamed for a soul with a shred of human compassion to help him.

Meet Myles Logan:

But Myles wasn’t mentally deficient, just so giving of himself and his belongings. A stranger would admire his shirt, and he’d take it off and hand it to him. An adult woman of any age would eye him. He’d grab her shopping bags and walk her home, chattering about her life with her. Pimps, crackheads, thugs, anyone with a spark of decency watched out for him. Threaten any stranger who’d ask Myles for some loose change, but then not move on after he’d emptied his wallet with a smile.

Meet Lyle Logan:
Set up: Vegas sheriff is driving. In the backseat, Myles' lover holds Lyle forcible on his lap. Suspected of fratricide, out of whack without his twin, Lyle thinks he's headed to jail.

Lyle squirmed under Renold’s thick arm, unwilling to stop the crap pouring from his mouth. “You should find a real fairy to give you a lap dance. Why didn’t Sheriff Dickwad handcuff me and have you ride up front? He’s hoping we’ll make out back here? Pervert sheriff belongs in a porn theater. I belong behind bars. You belong behind a guy’s butt that’s not mine. This is your gay weekend getaway, right?”

Lyle Wonders if He’s Hallucinating:

A dying buzzard? More like a deathly ill, midget flamingo. The creature that landed in front of Lyle appeared deader than Myles.
Three feet tall at most, a foot of height added by its scrawny neck, the bird angled its head as if it were blind, wobbling on decrepit legs. Two feathers—faded crimson and gold—clung to its hairless, grey form. It looked like it should be hanging from the fist of a voodoo queen.

Chatter Between Lyle and Myles’ Lover:

“Whacked as Logan sounds, Des, I’m pulling rank. Ignore us, fetch ice cream, and I swear, someday I’ll spill it.” The cop’s lips twitched, attention back on Lyle. “So there’s a pathetic microscopic amount of grey matter, an area of doesn’t matter, and a lot of inactive matter inside your skull?”

“Yes. I can give you the pie chart analysis if you’d like.”

“Just tell me what’s stewing in the dark matter.”

Sneak Preview:
A few lines of dialogue between Renold (human) and Bennu (non human).

"Unlike you, I’m extraordinarily unique. Thousands of years have shown me that cannibalistic seagulls, tool using crows, parrots counting for a cracker, there’s not a feathered being as self-centered as the non-feathered—or as violent.”

“Now I’m selfish, stupid, and vicious?”

Bennu’s next inhale proved it correct on all three characteristics. Renold had forcibly relaxed his hands, but his scent steadily showed increasing aggression. He no longer smelled deliciously protective, but dark and dangerous as a cornered panther.

###
Thank you to everyone at Muse for sharing this day with me!

Dad to Me

2011-04-30T21:00:00.000-07:00

Like most people, when I think of my parents through the lens of childhood, I see strong, stable if somewhat authoritarian figures looming large in my world as the most important presence. We rely on our parents for so much—food shelter, guidance and love. They are our first and perhaps most important mirror. As children we have neither the life experience or veracity to defend against the negative, or create the positive images of self as do our parents.

If little boys have varying degree of Oedipal complex at play where mothers are concerned, then how strong the bond between father and daughter?

'Piddy with the pennies.' One of my earliest terms of endearment in reference to my Dad. I've always had a penchant for alliteration, then no different. Dad used to bring shiny pennies to me at day's end, much to my delight. From where the "Piddy" part came, I don't know.

As a coin collector, those new pennies may not have been of great value to him, but the gleam of copper in my hand might as well have been gold. I'd scurry onto his lap lean my head against his broad chest and give the most valuable tender of childhood—a soul wrenching hug.

Dad was a businessman. It was not until I grew up that I found out just how great he was at what he did and how respected in his field. That kind of stuff doesn't matter to a kid though. The soft lingering fragrance of Old Spice, twisting the plain gold band on his ring finger wondering how anyone could manage to do the wonderful magic he did with hammer and nails, griddle and pancake batter, piano and sheet music using fingers that large. Compared to the delicate structure of Mom's and mine they were ginormous.

On Saturday afternoons after a long morning of errands and chores he'd lie on the couch and nap. Soft purr of a snore, the peace of an angel on his face, he'd earned those few minutes of rest. Whir of push mower, Dad in an old thin cotton undershirt, he pressed onward making our home the wonderful place it was. Testing tubes in the five and dime, picking up Danish at the crack of dawn, booty to bring home while they were still warm from the bakery, arms strong from waxing the car to new model shine; Dad toiled every weekend to live his version of the American dream.

Did I care then if our house was the prettiest on the block? Nah. What I did care about was having a strong male presence in my life showing not through words what it meant to be a good father and provider, but through his quiet actions.

Lakers playoff games, rock concerts at Hollywood Bowl and the Forum, canoe trips down a lazy river, ice cream afters at the Parasol Restaurant, Dad continued to be a part of my life as best he could manage to figure what events and memories would mean something to me. Classical concerts at Dorothy Chandler Pavilion downtown L.A., tuition paid in full with never a whisper of complaint at the (private) college of my choice (I could have chosen to attend the more affordable Cal State Long Beach or U.C. San Diego), taking me along to try out for the elite choral group of which he was a member, making sure I had a chance at an internship in downtown L.A. so I could see if the business world might be mine too—Dad thought it all through. Never did he force, never did he even suggest. He just made sure experiences were put in my path so that I might decide for myself what was, what is my bliss.

Dad was robbed of ripe old age by the neurological disease of Parkinson's. I lost him to it last year. It's funny how it takes absence to focus the lens of eternity on a life. I've had just a bit over a year to look back. I can tell you that with every passing day that hindsight becomes clearer and the guy with the sweat dripping from his nose as he toiled in the backyard and the man that made me cry by gushing over how proud he was of me at the most inopportune momentous of moments will always hold the most precious of places in my heart.

Thanks dad.

Christine London
www.christinelondon.com

http://tinyurl.com/3ezyak8

Do you feel...sexy?

2011-04-28T06:03:00.000-07:00

Woke up this morning to a cloudy and very rainy sky. Then it hit me...summer is just around the corner...Okay, more like "I hope summer is right around the corner." How many times during the winter months do we say:

I'm going to exercise my butt off and lose a few pounds, ready for those summer shorts, no more flab.

Yeah, well, a gal can dream of no flab. LOL

So a certain song hit me this morning...no, not while I was combing my hair and frowning in the mirror...just a liar.

I never liked this song for some reason but today that's the only tune going through my head, so enjoy...

and feel sexy no matter if flab is around, no matter if the weight is up there...

because it's the person inside that counts the most.

Nearly Wed and Newly Dead

2011-04-24T19:29:00.000-07:00

Nearly Wed and Newly Dead
by Carlie Angelus
NOW AVAILABLE

When Shelby Lynch dies on her wedding day, her new life as a Minder begins. Now, 20 years later, she's been sent back to her hometown of Loch's Landing, Florida to guide fireman Brax Hennessey into the afterlife. But will this angel complete her mission or will her assignment be forgotten when things heat up between them?

Excerpt:
I couldn’t help but let him linger in the land of uncertainty for a few moments longer. After all, his life was about to change in a very big way. Well…actually he was soon to be without a life, but I couldn’t bring myself to spring that on him right away. I was having too much fun.

First he thought I was a groupie, then he thought I was crazy, now he thinks I’m a call girl sent to him by his buddies.

For some reason, he was now standing there with his hands on his hips trying to look unthreatening and smiling at me like a dork. This was the most fun I could remember having…well…pretty much ever.

“Why don’t we just start with a basic introduction, you know, before you shove me out of the way and take off?”

His eyebrows rose a little higher at this suggestion, and I thought I heard a small groan from the back of his throat.

“I’m Shelby, and it is nice to make your acquaintance…Braden, isn’t it?”

He bit the inside of his cheek as if contemplating his next move very carefully.

“Yes, but most people call me Brax,” he said with a slight shrug.

“Ah yes, as in the Brax Bar,” I said.

“One and the same.”

I turned and surveyed the bar more closely—old fashioned knotty pine wood and obviously well maintained and well loved. I hadn’t seen a speck of litter in the parking lot, and this was a rare thing for a bar.

“You take very good care of it, I see.”

With that comment, I detected an almost imperceptible change in his demeanor. He seemed to relax just a hair.

“Thanks, Shelby. I appreciate you noticing.”

I could tell he was just playing my game in hopes I’d wander off and leave him alone. It was time to lay it on the line. No more putting it off. I had to get him to face reality and prepare him for what was to come.

“Brax, I’ll be honest with you. I was sent here but not by your friends and not to be your date.”
He continued staring at me, and I could see his mind working through the possibilities of what words I would say next. It was clear he didn’t yet believe a word I was saying.

“There’s really no easy way to tell you this but…in two days time…you’re going to die.”

MuseItUp and Hot to be at Romantic Times Book Lovers Convention

2011-03-28T11:42:00.000-07:00

April 6th through 10th, 2011 hundreds of romance authors, editors, agents, librarians, bookstore owners, other industry professionals and thousands of readers will gather at the classy silver glassed cylinders of the Westin Bonaventure Hotel in downtown Los Angeles for the yearly romance-love fest. Workshops by day and elegant dinner dances by night,

the event will be topped off by the crowning of the new "Mister Romance" on Saturday evening. He will receive a bookcover shoot contract with a major publishing house as well as the substantial boost this award gives any aspiring model's career.

The elite group of candidates will mingle weeklong, schmoozing authors and readers alike to see the fruits of their candidacy.

MuseItUp and MusetHot will be represented by Christine London. She will be there throughout, available to answer questions about our house as well as take names and contact information of those authors who show interest and promise.

Both the electronic Book Expo on Friday the 8th from 4-6p.m. AND the print Book Faire on Saturday the 9th 11a.m.-2p.m. will feature hundreds of signing authors. Separate entry to these events is only five dollars--an opportunity to meet the biggest names in romance.

Six of our Muse authors and our wonderful boss have generously donated gifts to be raffled at "Club RT" to one very lucky reader. Champagne, luscious chocolates, dinner at Red Lobster, a night out at the cinema, free Muse romance downloads, candle, lotion, romantic DVDs and author swag are wrapped up in cellophane to be displayed for all to see--valued at over two hundred dollars. Flyers telling a bit about our awesome participating Muse Authors will bookend the basket. We are featured on the RT website as donors.

Many thanks to Lea for her generous sponsorship and our own Karen Cote, Marsha A Moore, Viviane Brentanos, Christine London and Sara Durham for their donations and support of this project!

B

Br/>

Mom's Was Yesterday

2011-03-25T03:03:00.000-07:00

And my new cover is today.:-) Delilah K. Stephans continues to prove why she is the Cover Art Goddess. The woman is amazing and I love what she did here. Heart Of The Queen releases from MuseItHot Publishing Inc. August 2011. Here's a brief blurb:

Money troubles have forced the Gods to come and work among mortals. Hera embraces her childbearing skills and becomes a midwife. She takes the mortal name of Heather Juno and moves to Vermont. Then, two stunning men named James and Noah come into her office to with James’s very pregnant sister. The men are immediately taken with the mysterious midwife.

Divorced from a husband who spent thousands of years cheating on her, Hera is extremely reluctant to get involved with either man. James and Noah, veterans of the Iraq war are used to fighting for what they want and they are not about give Hera up. They are ready to battle for The Heart Of The Queen.

Magic Sandcastles--My Favorite Scene

2011-03-24T09:40:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite scenes from my fantasy romance, Tears on a Tranquil Lake, inspired me to paint an illustration to enjoy on my walls and use on my websites.

The painting, shown larger on my website, is entitled Magic Sandcastles, depicting one of my favorite scenes in the book.

I'm very pleased with the way it turned out and had the illustration printed on some cool items to give away in a contest (tote bag, note card sets, post cards). These are also pictured on my web page.

To learn more about the contest and see my painting, go to the contest page of my website. Contest ends March 31. http://www.MarshaAMoore.com

Here’s an excerpt from my favorite scene which inspired the artwork:

A splashing sound interrupted my sunbathing. Meris pulled up onto the rock next to me. Without a word, he bent over me and tasted my lips.

My lips grew warm and tingly in response.

He looked up and gazed at the pirate ship for a while. “It looks like the Hawk is stocking supplies to travel. Are you joining them?”

I nodded, afraid to look into his eyes in case he did not approve.

“Where are they going?”

“Tortuga.”

He sighed and shook his head. “You'll be gone for at least three days.” We sat in an awkward silence. Then he took my hand and smiled. “I have a new place to show you today. Come with me, Ciel.”

I returned his smile and we pushed off the rock, finding Albeo waiting to join us. Meris and I swam hand-in-hand for a couple miles, arriving in the surf of a beach with powdery soft, white sand. Dunes, grasses, and flowering sea plants made the coast private. The entire area as far as I could see lay natural and undeveloped. It belonged to us.

Meris led me onto a bend in the shore, decorated by a community of sandcastles.

“How fun! They're remarkable!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, they are, but watch.” He waved his arm above the structures, and in moments hundreds of tiny hermit crabs became the ‘people’ of this imaginary world, climbing the ramps and manning the turrets at his bidding.

“Oh! How do you do that? That's amazing!”

“Merpeople can perform magic. This is only one simple example of what I can teach you.”

“Yes! Please, teach me! I want to know how. That's such fun!”

While the surf lapped at our tails we sat next to one of the castles. Meris instructed me how to focus my mind, and with patience and time I directed a few of the crab ‘men’ to follow my bidding.

“There you go!” He applauded. “Practice will improve your skill. Later, I'll show you more of our magic.”

“I can’t wait!”

The lesson ended and he leaned into me. “Such beautiful golden hair,” he said as he moved strands aside to nibble my earlobe.

I lifted my chin upward, enjoying the sweet sensations.

The tip of his tongue traced along my extended neck and I sighed. His hands passed around my waist, drawing me closer. His lips soon found their way to mine, covering them with butterfly kisses. Nothing could feel softer or more like love itself.

When we paused to catch our breath, I pulled back slightly and wrapped my fingers around the black pearl. “What does your gift mean? The captain told me . . .”

He placed a hand over mine, enclosing the pearl. The magic of the amulet within our hands pulsed harder.

Blurb:
What a surprise for a young woman, to find herself suddenly transformed into a mermaid.

Ciel’s first thought – track down the merman who changed her and make him reverse his magic. Unable to find him, survival in her new world becomes paramount. She eagerly accepts help from a dashing pirate captain who takes a fancy to her, lavishing her with finery. When her merman does show up, he competes for her affection. One look into his eyes makes her life more complex -- he is her soul mate.

Which man will she choose – pirate captain or merman? Which life – human or mermaid? Caribbean adventures and dangers chase Ciel as she searches for decisions and the key to her happiness.

Warning: This book contains Haitian vodou, sultry wenches, foul-mouthed scalliwag pirates, overindulgence of fine Caribbean rum, and amorous encounters on deserted beaches.

Purchase links:
MuseItUp Publishing
Amazon
Barnes and Noble

*********************
Tears on a Tranquil Lake: Who will she choose: a smooth-talking pirate captain or a handsome merman? Ceil’s shocking transformation into a mermaid forces her to decide who holds the key to her happiness.

Marsha A. Moore, author . . . the magic of romance
Tears on a Tranquil Lake, 2/1/2011 & Sea Glass and Sand Memories, 6/1/2011 - MuseItHot Publishing
http://www.MarshaAMoore.com

Ashes--Favorite Scene

2011-03-24T06:33:00.000-07:00

My favorite scene in Ashes? It wouldn’t have been possible without opening paragraph.
Raw thirst dominated Lyle’s fantasy. Cracked ribs, battered leg, ankle bruised by the shackle, three broken fingers, deep slashes along inner thighs, and bone jutting through muscle in the left arm—it all lay crushed under the need for water. Images of shimmering droplets danced behind his crusted eyelids.
I couldn’t believe I’d written that, and one question dominated the others. Who was this dead guy, and, did anyone care he’d been murdered?
           Lyle stepped up, giving me little choice. Either I made things right, or he’d join his murdered brother and the story would end by page two.
          I had to fight to for every word, each paragraph.
          Because I remained clueless how to fix the problem I created on page one, the saddest scene for me ended with Myles’ lover putting an exhausted Lyle down to sleep.
His chest lifted, slow and deadened—a soft burst of scent filled his lungs.
Oh MyMy. The aroma of almond-vanilla sent an arrow straight into his heart. His spine arched upward, and Lyle’s eyes rocketed open.
Renold handed him a blue T-shirt.
Lyle shoved his face into it, eased over onto his side, and curled into a ball.

           I suppose you’re wondering what a horrible opening paragraph, and the saddest scene have to do with this blog’s theme of favorite.
           Sorry. Cooperation is out of character. Lyle has problems with authority in general.

            Lyle cleared the dust from his throat. “We gonna sit here forever? You must need a sugar fix, Sheriff Dickwad. Get your hands out of your pants and onto the wheel. I’ve rights, right? Lawyer. Phone call to Dad. He’ll love knowing I’m to be buggered in a Vegas lockdown.”
             He shifted against Renold, staring at dark curly arm hairs. “Sorry, Renold. I know you wanted a go. But you have a badge. Maybe you can get a conjugal before I’m toasted.”

             Of course, there’s always exceptions. The following lady manages to get a straight answer out of Lyle. Here’s a clip where he’s trying to pull off pretending he’s Myles, so he can get away from his brother’s lover and off himself.

              Lyle unstuck his wet cheek from Renold’s shirt. An ancient woman wearing that white collar and black hooded habit peered up at Renold. She lowered her chin and stared at Lyle. “A brush in your hand, could you create beauty?”
Tears slid, thick and hot. “No. Myles paints…painted, not me.” Goddamn, who could lie to a four foot nun?
            “He’s dead. Murdered?” she asked.
“Yes.”
So, unless you’re an ancient religious figurehead, I’m taking the fifth regarding my favorite scene, it's too interwoven with the plot.
Sincerely,
Arlene
http://arlenewebb.com/
Arlene's author Page