Thursday, February 27, 2014

Throwback Thursday

Damn, I forgot about this! Ooops.

Yup, that's me... the cheerleader. Go Eagles!!! LOL.

Don't know the year exactly, but it had to be in the 1970's. *laugh* See Mom's shadow? How cool is that? What's really cool is I actually remember this. 0.o


Tuesday, February 25, 2014

400,000 view giveaway!

Weeee! I just hit 400,000 views on my blog!!! *giggle* Decadent Delights is just a little over two years old. :) So, to celebrate, I'm doing a giveaway. Two people get to choose something from my backlist. 

Just leave a comment and an email addy. Contest will end March 1st and I'll announce the winners later that day. 

Monday, February 24, 2014

Just Another Manic Monday! Welcome Elyzabeth M. VaLey - Blind Beauty

Welcome to another Manic Monday!

* * * * 

Blind Beauty (Witches’ Mischief Series 2) 
Thank you for having me!

Many things inspired the creation of Blind Beauty, (my love of fairy tales, The Golden Cock, reviewers…) but as it happens, music also played an important role.

Crazy as it might sound to some, I write with music. Words flow easier and scenes become brighter if I have a tune to go with. When it came to writing Blind Beauty, I found that I needed something folksier and in a way magical. After all, most of the story takes places in Belmont Forest and there are strange things going on… (Aka a little nudge from a certain magic user).

James barely looked his way as they continued to trudge through the forest. Light was quickly failing, the oncoming night creeping on them. The temperature dropped and the moon rose, the soft white light bathing everything and creating a land of ice and shadows before their eyes.

I found my musical inspiration in German pagan folk band, Faun. Their album Von Den Elben created the perfect mood to create a world full of love, magic and adventure.

Sunshine illuminated her features and a soft wind blew her dark locks across her face. Her little nose was wrinkled and her mouth set in a thin line of concentrated determination as she saw things behind her lids that only she could glimpse.

One of the songs that inspired the beginning of the story was Faun’s cover of Schrei es in die Winde, a song originally from Eluviette (another great group, whose music was also a source of inspiration) and whose melody, for me, (since I don’t speak German), expresses hope. *Smile*

He was alone. Alone, in the middle of nowhere, and he was glad. Raising his hand in silent farewell to everything he left behind, he veered his horse and continued down the path away from everyone. Here, amidst nature, there was no one to mock him for his looks. No one to gaze at him with disgust or feigned interest.

His lips twitched and he smiled wildly. Kicking his horse’s flanks, he set at a gallop. He would never return.

I invite you to read Blind Beauty and listen to the music that brought James and Richard’s story a little more alive.


Faun Video  


James Macintosh is hours away from his new home. He is ready to start a secluded life away from all the rumors, insults and disgusted faces concerning his appearance. However, a meeting with a mysterious woman and her child, mingled with a sudden harsh snowstorm will set him down a very different path than the one he had originally envisioned.

Richard Randywine is an accidental fugitive living with a band of rowdy thieves. A good man at heart, he has gotten used to hiding his emotions behind his strapping muscles and brute strength.  Yet, when the thieves ambush an unsuspecting rider, Richard is forced to drop his mask and step forward.

Will both men be able to see what lies before them or will they be blind to the possibility of happiness?

Available at:

Add it to your Goodreads

Author Bio:

Defined as weird since she was about eight, Elyzabeth honors the title by making up songs about her chores, doodling stars and flowers on any blank sheet of paper and talking to her dog whenever he feigns interest.

Losing the battle to the voices in her head is her favorite pastime after annoying her younger sister with her singing. Writing stories full of passion and emotion where love conquers all is her happy pill and she'll forgo sleep to make her readers live the dream.

Stalk me at:



Pinterest (Blind Beauty has its own board! Check it out here)


He climbed atop his horse, as told. His back molded to Richard’s, his body betraying him as it molded into the other man’s embrace. Richard pulled him hard against him, his body enveloping him in an almost suffocating hug.
“Go,” he whispered huskily into his ear, his breath fanning it. James pressed his thighs against Faith’s flanks, hoping the animal would understand, considering the strange position she was in. She did, for she set off at a trot in the direction Richard indicated. They galloped in silence, trees whirring past them, snow flying when they swept past. James eyes widened and he barely controlled the urge to order Faith to stop as he realized their impasse.
“Richard, the hoof prints, the snow.” James pointed at the visible trail. “They’ll track us down as easily as the king’s hounds trace a fox.”
Richard’s breath was warm in his ear. His hair tickled his temple and James had to suppress a shiver.
“I know.” Richard chuckled. “Don’t worry. I have a plan, besides wishing that they’ll wake up during the night and we’ll be miles away by then or that it snows heavily again.”
James wished he didn’t have to worry, but he couldn’t relax. The problem wasn’t so much the thieves that could pursue them at any moment, but the man behind him. He was too close, too comforting, and all too desirable. James shifted in his seat again, trying to find a comfortable position. One in which he wasn’t pressed up tightly against Richard’s groin. One in which he didn’t imagine he felt the length of his cock hard against him. Because, he was convinced it was his imagination. Otherwise, how could a man like Richard be interested in him? It didn’t make any sense. In his experience, men like Richard were ladies’ men. They seduced, fucked and discarded women. He wasn’t a woman and he’d been rejected too many times in his life. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need more pain. Richard’s fingers brushed against his side, the fingers digging into his flesh and distracting him as arousal flared in every centimeter of his flesh.
“What got you into thievery?” he asked, attempting to forget how close their bodies were.
Richard grunted in reply and he fell silent once more, fishing his mind for a topic of conversation. It came up blank. He thought about asking Richard to stop. Faith was probably tiring though she didn’t show it and surely, they were safe by now. He should ask. James knew he should, but he couldn’t. He was losing his mind, falling prey to the liquid fire that was consuming him inside and outside. He wasn’t sure if the man was hard, but he was. His cock was stiff and throbbing, the idea of taking or being taken by Richard flashing through his mind every time Faith bounced.
What would it feel like?

Flesh both silky and hard as steel brushing against him, an intimate caress, deep and longing. They’d become one man, writhing, gasping, and moaning. James’ breath hitched, the tightness in his breeches becoming uncomfortable. He clenched his teeth together and grasped the reins so tightly the material cut into his hands. He scrambled to regain his bearings, to remember whom he was with and what had occurred in the last 48 hours. He couldn’t trust Richard, but neither could he trust his treacherous body. He was not a beautiful man. Surely the thief didn’t want him. The thief. That’s right, Richard was a thief. He had no morals, no scruples, no—James groaned as Faith skipped over a fallen log, throwing Richard’s body against him, the erection he was sure he was imagining grinding against his bottom. 

Saturday, February 22, 2014

My Sexy Saturday - Be My Alien

Happy Saturday and welcome to My Sexy Saturday! For this hop you post 7 paragraphs or 7 sentences or 7 words. It can be from a WIP or something published.
For this week, I thought I’d do something from my Dreamspinner release, Be My Alien. It’s book one in the Moonlit Skies series. Book 2, Be My Human, has been subbed.

A man too busy for love…
Reed owns an upscale men’s boutique with a naughty back room. While making a late delivery to a client, he runs into Taz.
A man on a disastrous date…
When Taz agreed to come to Earth on a date, he didn’t expect to be dumped and left with no way home. Then he falls into Reed’s arms—literally.
A coffee date soon becomes a trip back to Reed’s apartment. But when Taz’s stripes begin to show, Reed discovers Taz comes from a planet far, far away.
Reed never believed aliens existed, but he’s facing one now. What in the world is he going to do?

“Are you okay? Hello?”
Reed dragged his mind away from those sexy green eyes. “Ah, huh? What?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall on top of you like that. You see, it was like this. I was pushed, and you just happened to be there and….” The stranger grinned at Reed. “And down we went.”
Reed shifted under the body lying so contentedly on top of him. Hell’s bells, the guy fit against him perfectly. From the feel of things, they were both close to the same height. Which also meant certain things were… aligned. “Oh yeah, I’m okay. Banged my head a little, but I’m fine.”
The stranger bit his bottom lip, his teeth worrying the tender skin. Reed debated slamming his head against the floor a few more times in the hopes of rattling his brain back to normal as the stranger rolled off him.
“I really am sorry.”

“No harm done.” Reed sat up and looked at the guy once again. Well, not much harm, anyway. His libido just had to pick now to perk up, didn’t it? But damn, this guy was sexy. Reed struggled to his feet and held his hand out to the man still on the floor, looking up at him. The guy took his hand and let Reed pull him up. “Name’s Reed. Are you okay?”

Thursday, February 20, 2014

Throwback Thursday

Yes, that's me lol. Yes, I'm flapping my gums, as usual. It's a little blurry, but hey, this was taken in 1971. Yes, yes, I know some of you hadn't been born yet lol.

It was Christmas, and I was three. (or about to turn three.) Yup, I'm in red (my fav color) and I had just gotten a bike. That's my mom and dad behind me. My parents were quite a bit older by the time I came along lol. I have no ideas who took this, but I'm guessing it had to be my brother or sister.

Check out the chair in the background! OMG, is that not just a blast from the past??? And the clothes of that time period. Good Lord, lol, this is cracking me up. *snort* And damn if my dad doesn't have that same fake grin he has had in *every* picture *ever* made of him! Huh, my mom actually had dark hair. My memories of her consist of much lighter hair lol.

Now I really feel old. So, okay, that's me and my super cool bike... with the red handlebars! Can't wait to see what next Thursday brings!!


Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Winners of the Valentine's Day Hop

1st Place: Nostolgiclikeyou

 2nd Place: Shadow

3rd Place: Mann Ramblings

Okay, I'm going to email you guys shortly. For the 1st and 2nd place winners I'm going to need addresses so I can mail you stuff. 

For 3rd place I'll send the book just as you as I know what format you want. :)

Thanks for joining us for our first hop! We had lots of fun and a great turnout. 

Monday, February 17, 2014

Goddess Fish Presents K.C. Burns - Pen Name: Doctor Chicken


Pen Name: Doctor Chicken

by K.C. Burn

The author will be awarding a $20 Amazon Gift Card to one randomly drawn commenter and a $20 Starbucks Gift Card to a second randomly drawn commenter during the tour. A randomly drawn commenter at each stop will be awarded an autographed copy of the book (international giveaway).

Please follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here:



Sometimes Stratford Dale feels like Doctor Chicken consumes his life. It’s his pen name for a series of wildly popular children’s books. They were his brainchild; he meant for them to be a way to pay his many bills while he pursued his dream of publishing graphic novels. But the Doctor Chicken contract was a raw deal. Instead, he churns out book after book for a pittance, leaving him broke and no closer to his dreams.

Stratford’s dreams of love have fared no better, but he’s still trying. After yet another disastrous date, he’s intrigued by a man going into a cooking class—so he takes the class too. Vinnie Giani is a successful, self-made man who is charmed by Stratford’s bow ties, sharp humor, and clumsiness—which leads to an opportunity to take Stratford in for stitches. Vinnie is, above all, responsible, having taken on the care of his mother and sisters from a young age. Perhaps it’s natural when he begins to treat Stratford more as a child who needs a parent than as an equal partner. But when Vinnie tries to “fix” Stratford’s career woes—including the Doctor Chicken problem—and ends up making the situation worse, their fledgling relationship may not withstand the the strain created by blame and lies.



“ABBY, I swear, I’m never going to find my own Thad.”

Stratford should have waited until he’d gotten home to call Abby, because the wind was going to freeze his fingers into a permanent curl around his phone. Gloves, scarfs, and wind-resistant fabrics hadn’t suited his super-sexy Barry-bait outfit. Unfortunately, the Barry bait had been too enticing. Or the wrong kind of enticing. Sluts might wear shirts and pants as tight as his, but they didn’t wear bow ties, did they? At least he was able to grab a latte on the way home. Aside from being one of his few expensive indulgences, it was keeping his left hand warmish.

“Of course you will. Are you sure you’re not judging him too harshly? You sometimes have unrealistic expectations.”

He snorted. No one had to know he’d had a sneaking little thought that he’d so dazzle Barry with his erudition and joie de vivre that the man would immediately become smitten and fall in love. Besides, Abby already knew he was a hopeless romantic.

“There was a certain romantic touch to the butt plug discussion over shrimp devolving into a dessert discussion on whether silicone, rubber, or glass was preferable for dildos. A dead giveaway, if I’d been paying attention. I mean, anyone who has enough information to write a dissertation on dildo production materials is either way too oversexed for me or hasn’t had enough sex with other people… and probably for an excellent reason, as I discovered.”

An older man in a fedora, walking in the opposite direction, gave Stratford a raised-brow look, and Stratford simply rolled his eyes and shrugged.

“Ford, you slut. You didn’t! On a first date?” Abby’s light, teasing tone hadn’t the slightest hint of censure, but it could have. After all, Stratford had had his slutty moments, to be sure, but slutty wasn’t the best way to snag a boyfriend. He didn’t think. Or at least, not too slutty. What man didn’t like a hint of slut? Monogamous slut. If there was such a thing.

“Uh, hello, you still there?”

“What, oh, yes. Sorry.” Stratford had to stop drifting to his fantasies of a fairytale ending.

“You dog. You did it, didn’t you? And how was it?”

“No. Really, I didn’t. I mean, he blew me a little bit.”

This time it was Abby who snorted. “Blew you a little bit? Kind of like being a little bit preggers, you know.”

“It’s never a good sign when you have to say ‘watch the teeth,’ followed closely by ‘don’t bite that.’ Puts a damper on things.”

“You think?” Loud gales of laughter buffeted him across the wireless waves, and Stratford pursed his lips. Why was his dating life such a fucking joke?


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

KC Burn has been writing for as long as she can remember and is a sucker for happy endings (of all kinds). After moving from Toronto to Florida for her husband to take a dream job, she discovered a love of gay romance and fulfilled a dream of her own – getting published. After a few years of editing web content by day, and neglecting her supportive, understanding hubby and needy cat at night to write stories about men loving men, she was uprooted yet again and now resides in California. Writing is always fun and rewarding, but writing about her guys is the most fun she’s had in a long time, and she hopes you’ll enjoy them as much as she does.

Buy Links:

Now, for the interview!

~How do you come up with a title?
Ugh – no idea. I prefer to leave the title until the very end and hope inspiration strikes.

~Which character caused you the most difficulty to write?
R’kos in Alien ‘n’ Outlaw was tricky. He needed to be sexy and relatable but still… an alien.

~When do you do your best writing… morning, afternoon, evening, night?
Depends. If I have insomnia, the morning. If I’m sleeping well, the evening.

~Out of all the stories you’ve written which one are you most proud of?
Tough question but probably Trompe L’oeil. I pitched it to my publisher based on a two paragraph idea, which sounded pretty cool (a guy cursed to live as a painting) but when I actually had to execute it, I basically had to have two guys fall in love without ever speaking to each other!

~Do you plan your stories and, if so, to what extent?
Almost no planning. A couple of paragraphs, and sometimes I’ll create a rough timeline with post-it notes, but I’m not good at planning ahead.

~How many stories do you work on at any one time?
I try to only work on one, but at the moment I have three in various stages of completion.

~Is there anything you’d like to tell? Maybe something in the works you would like to promotion? Feel free!
I’ve got a third sci-fi up for release in May, called Voodoo ‘n’ Vice. It’s the third in my Galactic Alliance series and the jerk captain in the previous Alien ‘n’ Outlaw has to take a hard look at some of his prejudices in order to be redeemed. I’m also working on writing an erotic paranormal/cozy mystery romance – not sure how it will turn out! 

 ~ What is your idea of how to spend romantic time with your significant other?
Board games - are you sensing a theme? We both love playing board games, and we own just about everything the guys have played on The Big Bang Theory (always fun to watch and say, Hey, they’re playing Talisman, or Settlers of Catan or whatever) and quite a few more.

~ You’ve just been let loose in the world of fiction, with permission to do anyone you want. Who do you fuck first and why?
Oh, that’s easy. Jamie Fraser from Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander. A strong alpha male perfectly at ease with a strong woman, a warrior, a lover, a dreamer, a family man, and we can’t forget the kilt… yum, yum!

~ Which musical would you say best exemplifies your life – and which character in that musical are you?
Um. Yeah. I don’t watch musicals. I don’t really like people singing at me.

~ Of all the modern conveniences, which one would you most likely say you couldn't live without?

~ What are your favorite TV shows?
So, so many. Psych, Doctor Who, Torchwood, Firefly, Leverage, Better Off Ted, Castle, Face Off, The Big Bang Theory

~What is your favorite meal?
Cheesecake? Honestly, I don’t know if I have one. It depends on my mood. 

~ What was your favorite character to write, and why?
I know we’re supposed to love our babies equally, but I definitely have a soft spot for a few of my characters. Rick, from Cast Off, is probably where my softest spot is. Broken inside and a thick shell of nonchalance on the outside. I just submitted a book to my publisher about an actor and a construction manager, and the actor, Jimmy, might end up rivaling Rick. Jimmy’s just a bit different from my other characters, but I’m not exactly sure if I can define why.

~ Take one of your stories and tell us what you would change about it if you would do it over again.
For the most part, I try not to think about changing books that are already out there in the world, because that way leads to crazy town! However, the one thing I would love to change? One of the heroes in Alien ‘n’ Outlaw is an alien named R’kos. I introduced him in the previous Spice ‘n’ Solace not really realizing I was going to want to give him his own story. When I decided to write Alien ‘n’ Outlaw, I was stuck with the name R’kos. If Steve has a hammer, it’s Steve’s hammer. If R’kos has a hammer, it’s R’kos’s hammer and I HATED the way “R’kos’s” looked. Hated with the fiery passion of a thousand burning suns. If you read Alien ‘n’ Outlaw, I totally cheat. I never ONCE use R’kos’s in the entire book, but that was a pain to arrange.

~ What has been the toughest criticism given to you as an author? What has been the best compliment?
Two sides of the same coin. I can’t possibly write a male POV properly because I’m a woman, and conversely, gay men telling me I must have been a gay man in a previous life because I’ve done the male POV right. 

~What was the hardest book for you to write, or the hardest scene in one of your books to write, and why did you struggle with it?
The hardest thing was probably developing and writing the alien culture in Alien ‘n’ Outlaw. I had fun with it and I think it was ultimately successful, but it was difficult. I also struggle with how much emotion is too much or not enough – strong emotions make me uncomfortable so I sometimes have problems judging the depth of emotion a scene requires.

~When you sit down to write a book, do you go with the flow? Or do you outline and plot all the important details out first?
Go with the flow! I’ve attached an image of the “planning” for the book I submitted last month. This is about as detailed as it gets, and the book itself diverged from the plan quite a bit.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Friday, February 14, 2014

The Power of Love Valentine’s Day Blog Hop!

Welcome to The Power of Love Valentine’s Day Blog Hop that will run for Feb 14th to Feb 16th. This is the first bloghop Julie and I have done and we hope you guys enjoy it! I also want to say a big thank you to all that signed up.

Did you know:

More than 36 million heart-shaped boxes of chocolate are sold for Valentine's Day each year.

On average, men shell out $130 each on candy, cards, jewelry, flowers and dates. That’s more than double what women commit to spending.

About 8 billion candy hearts will be produced this year; that’s enough candy to stretch from Rome, Italy to Valentine, Arizona 20 times and back again.

About 1 billion Valentine's Day cards are exchanged in US each year. That's the largest seasonal card-sending occasion of the year, next to Christmas.

Worldwide, over 50 million roses are given for Valentine's Day each year.

Women purchase 85% of all valentines.

In order of popularity, Valentine's Day cards are given to teachers, children, mothers, wives, sweethearts and pets.

73% of people who buy flowers for Valentine's Day are men, while only 27 percent are women.

Men buy most of the millions of boxes of candy and bouquets of flowers given on Valentine's Day.

The oldest surviving love poem till date is written in a clay tablet from the times of the Sumerians around 3500 BC.

These fun facts are brought to you courtesy of


As the host of the hop, Julie and I are doing something together—a joint giveaway between our blogs.

1. Two First place winners will receive one handmade Be My Alien pillow and Valentine's candy. US only.

2. Two Second place winner will receive one handmade Be My Alien pillow and Valentine's candy. US only.

3. Two Third place winners will win an ebook copy of Be My Alien.

Visit both blogs for a greater chance to win.

How To Enter:

Tell me, if you had to pick, which you prefer to receive for Valentine’s Day: flowers or candy? If you have time, tell me why!

When you comment, leave me an email addy. When the hop is over, I’ll post on here who won. I’ll also email you to double check I have the correct email addy. Check your spam, just to be safe. Sometimes emails to winners end up there.

As for me, I’d have to say the flowers. I'd *love to* have the chocolate, but I'm not supposed to be eating that kind of stuff now. My favorite flower is the white rose, and I had told the hubby years ago to stop getting them for Valentine’s Day. *laugh* That's changed now. Hope everyone has a great day.

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Welcome S.L. Danielson - Ice Fairy


Samuru (Sam) Ogawa is on track to be in his life’s dream…the Olympics as a figure-skater. All is gliding along smoothly until he literally bumps into one of the biggest bullies he’s ever met; a hockey player named Brett Zephyr. He’s well known for being a brash, hot-headed, caveman who thinks about nothing but hockey and his bimbo girlfriend.

Things are tense and the walls between them build until unforeseen events begin to break the ice between them. But as the coolness melts away; other players come in to build them back as quickly as they fell. Family forces, friends, and secrets threaten to destroy all they’ve created.

Can Sam and Brett make things work or are they just too opposite? Can a figure skater find true love with a hockey player?

Available now at


Chapter One
“….and swing your leg out, that’s it…” He watched Amber’s skinny leg jut out awkwardly as she attempted the maneuver, his eyes trained to her posture as momentum brought her around to face him. “… and land on the pick, and down,” he instructed, as he heard a ‘slap’ of Amber’s blade hitting the ice, not the crisp sound that his made. She’d landed on the flat of the blade again. He looked up into her eyes, which were as brown as the hue of her tightly-bunned hair. She looked nervous, scared actually, but accomplished.

He let go of one of her hands and her mouth was open wide, half-smiling and half-wondering.

“How’d I do, Sam? How’d I do?” She was practically jumping up and down with glee.

Sam scratched his black hair. “You did pretty well, Amber, really. Not bad at all for doing just a few of these.” He wanted to build her confidence. Nothing was ever served by bashing a bad landing, unless it was either technically incorrect or painful to do. If she landed on a flat, so be it.

“So now I can do waltz jumps?” Her eyes beamed and she did a quick twirl on one foot, nearly toppling over at the end of it, which Sam rescued her from.

“Whoa there… watch your footing now. You start just spinning off like that, you’re going to need a lot more practice,” he teased, tapping her button nose. “I’m not your full coach yet, hon. I’ve got my own to contend with, remember?”

He winced, thinking of his harsh coach, the ever prominent Harry Fuchs, which of course, was converted into all sorts of nasty translations when his back was turned or he wasn’t around. But despite his nasty temper, he had been one hell of a figure skater in his day, a gold medalist, and one of the best ever in the region. Sam was in great hands, at least as for the sport. They’d never be friends, which Harry had all but assured him was fine with him.

Amber finally let go of his hand and stood back, her eyes trained on him. “Come on, Sammy, show your best friend one of your waltz jumps again, so I can see how it’s really done.”

Sam groaned, but in complete jest. He didn’t mind being the center of attention, especially when it came to his art, his sport, his craft...hell, his life. Figure skating. Something his mother pushed him into when he was four years old and despite some roughness at first, he’d grown to adore it. He was nearly at national’s level; he had yet to perfect his triple axel though. Most were doing quads, but he didn’t feel that strong….yet.

“Alright, alright, just a few, okay?” He expertly maneuvered away from his friend and began a short drill of back crossovers and finally to a forward three-turn into what he considered a fair waltz jump. He’d mastered it so long ago that the move was now blasé to him, but it was gold to Amber.

She applauded every step he did, even the landing, which he noted she was bent over, seeing how his foot was on the ice. “So that’s how it’s supposed to look.” She fingered her bun, looking nervous. “Sammy… I’m not supposed to land on the full foot, am I?” she pouted, and he couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Sweetie… no. But you’re learning… but no. Harry told me a long time ago the sooner bad habits are broken, the easier it is to move on to how the move is really done.” He held out his hands to her. “I’ll show you again, if you want.”

With a gasp, Amber nodded. “Of course! You’re the best teacher ever, Sammy. I’ll get it right this time, you watch me!” She waggled a finger at him and he laughed to himself. With a firm grip on both of her hands, he led her around in a circle, and then counted out the steps again.
“Now turn, stretch, and point your toe…” He held onto her hands extra tight as she finally landed on the toe pick first, but quickly went to the rest of the blade. It was ideal!

“How was that?” she asked anxiously.

“It was great! You did it!” Sam replied, his voice happy and bubbly.

Amber gasped. “I did? I did!” She realized it at last and pulled him in for a hug. “Thank you!

Her happiness was contagious and he enjoyed the thanks he received. He wished he got it from Harry too; he waited until he was home to be congratulated by his sister, who was his biggest fan. Kimora, or Kim which is what she went by, was only ten, but was also working her way up the skating ladder. It was only a matter of time until she was ready to compete on a grand scale.

“You are very welcome.” He patted her hands and let them go. So many people thought that they were an item, but nothing could be further from the truth. They were the best of pals, on and off the ice, but that was all. Sam’s heart lay along a different destiny, one which his parents did not know about, nor his coach. It was hell not being able to tell them he was gay; not even in a sport where a few of the other boys were as well, but he dared not speak about it. He’d found solace in Amber being the only one to know, and it was enough for him. At least for now. A gentle whack was felt on his arm and he turned to see Amber grinning at him. “Buy you a soda if you want. I don’t have an apple for the teacher.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, no thanks. I’m good. I’ve got my water bottle over there. Too much soda will keep me up too late and give me cavities. Can’t have that.”

“Oh, heavens no,” she agreed and after a quick push-off on her blade, she was gone.

Sam let out a deep sigh. It’d been quite the January afternoon with Amber there. Just the two of them… and the few dozen other skaters who fought their way around the oval like they were on a cold treadmill. The oval was never enough for him; he had to do more.

A sudden wave of boisterous voices broke his silent reverie as he nearly slipped from the prep for a scratch spin. Oh shit, he thought as he saw what they were wearing. It was the hockey players… what he called the ‘demons’ of the ice. They left ruts so deep he’d requested the Zamboni nearly scrap the surface down to the base. He dug his toe pick in, fists balled, and snatched his water bottle from the top of the wall before the rude, crude boys could make their way over to it and knock it over, or maybe spit in it.

You won’t touch my bottle, oh hell no. Why did they have to share the ice with these assholes? Why couldn’t they have an entire rink devoted the athleticism and beauty of figure skating and not the boorish, blood sport show that hockey was. What was the whole point of it anyway? To see how many fist fights one could get into in a single game? Sam shuddered at the thought. He’d seen these games in action and the teeth flying out of their mouths. No thanks.

As the boys passed by, a few called out to him as he stood by the wall and drank his water; he retreated the closer they came. “Takin’ a break, Sammy boy? I’m sure that’s such hard work, huh?” One of the boys started harassing Sam. He looked over his shoulder at his chuckling brethren.

Sam didn’t respond but continued drinking. He wished they’d just go away and leave him alone.
“Hey, where’s your hottie, Sammy?” another asked, obviously referring to Amber. He wanted to reply, but why give them what they wanted by responding?

After most of the line passed, carrying their enormous overstuffed bags and spitting randomly into the seating area, Sam glanced up and saw someone he kinda knew, unfortunately. It was that big kid, Brett Z…something. He could never remember last names of the people who got on his nerves. His parents had worked with him to remember names, but he still had a tough time with it. Like now.

As the tall, built blond passed by, Sam caught his eye briefly - that was a mistake. Brett stiffened and shot him a look back.

“What the fuck are you lookin’ at, ice fairy boy? You just go about your little twirls and shit. This is a man’s sport.” He held up his bag and slapped it, fairly snarling like a grizzly bear afterwards.

Sam narrowed his eyes, but didn’t respond. He’d been called all sorts of names from his classmates; this was nothing new to him, unfortunately. Amber usually was there with him, but he’d trained himself to ignore their digs. Go ahead, what will it be this time? Dweeb? Loser? Geek? Princess? Faggy boy? The moniker ‘ice fairy’ was somewhat new to the repertoire; it must’ve been made up by Brett himself. How precious.

As he felt his ire rise and the coolness of the ice fade with his warming blood, a refreshing sound was heard next to him.

“What’s going on, sweetie?” Amber asked, putting her soda down next to his water bottle. “Is this Neanderthal giving you trouble again? Whatsa matter? The other cavemen leave you behind for your afternoon gruntings?” she shot at Brett, with Sam hiding the smile he so badly wanted to show.

“Nope, just makin’ sure this little princess ain’t giving me any looks. I’ll bust your ass, boy, you just wait.” He pointed a threatening finger at Sam, and he had to admit, the gesture was more than a tad scary, especially given Brett’s size. But the bigger they were… at least that’s how he calmed himself enough to not look petrified.

Another voice broke the scene. “Brett… you stirring up trouble over here again?” A tall, slinky blond skated up and gave Brett a kiss unlike he’d ever seen. His parents would certainly never do that in public, much less in front of him. It was as if their faces had melted together and morphed into one big, blond beast.

Brett slipped an arm around her very slim waist, and it nearly went around her circumference. “Just making sure I’m not gettin’ the eye from this one. I gotta go practice, babe. See you later, hottie.” He kissed her again and he squeezed part of her anatomy, which brought a blush to her face.

“Okay, baby. Be careful now. I’ll be watching.”

Without another word, Brett slipped by the other two and into the locker room, and thankfully he shut the door. The overwhelming din from there already hurt Sam’s ears.

As if a switch had been flipped, the tall blonde turned to them, an accusatory finger pointing at them. “You two leave him alone, you understand? He needs to work on his game and he doesn’t need your distractions, fairy boy, doing your little twirls. I see you out there, you show off!” She put her hands on her slender hips and harrumphed at him. My, my, someone was jealous!

Sam beat down the laughter inside of him that wanted to come pouring out, and he kept a tight grip on it. “I’ll certainly try to tone it down, Tiffani. I wouldn’t want to get anyone injured.” He tried to keep the smarminess from his tone, but at this moment, it was too irresistible.

Tiffani was a pain the ass, a hockey cheerleader, of course, involved, apparently quite heavily, with the captain of the team, who was mister fabulous caveman, Brett. She was a tall drink of water, at 5’11”, and all hair and mouth. There was little physique to her. Amber was slim, but this one disappeared when she turned sideways. Too thin in Sam’s opinion, but that was him.

With a sneer, Tiffani skated off, back to doing the ovals that she’d mastered. What pride she must have in that accomplishment…not. Oh well. It wasn’t for him to judge. … but with that attitude, he wouldn’t dare approach her to offer lessons in this lifetime.

He took Amber’s hand as he caught the guard coming out with the orange cones to separate the rink into two areas; one for them, the other for hockey. “Come on, let’s have fun while we still can.”

With a smile, she nodded and joined him. “Sounds good, sweetie. Come on.”

Within ten minutes, the two were laughing and having fun again. Sam sported a lovely scratch spin and spiral just for Amber who had requested that. She tried the moves herself, but had slipped both times.

A bang of the metal door interrupted them again as the loud hockey team made their way to the ice for their practice. It was like watching a horde of killer robots approach you and here you were, trapped in the center, with no weapons except your might and your words. It wasn’t fun, but Sam tried to adapt to the rink’s not-so-brilliant brainstorm of shared ice time. It was all to make money, of course. Hockey brought in the bucks, not figure skating. Wait, scratch that, it did, but only if it were a major competition, but they hadn’t won a bid for one of those in years. Hence the hockey goons and hence Brett.

Sam had to admit they all looked very buff in their uniforms. They didn’t have all the gear on for this, but just the jerseys looked nice on their built bodies. He also had to admit, Brett did look good, but that was all that was good about him. He wished silently that they practiced at the other rink a few miles away, but it was too small he supposed. As for them sharing the ice, he’d have to deal with it or go home in defeat and hell no, that was not happening. Amber steered his gaze away from the others. “Come on, show me a toe loop again. I keep getting confused on what’s what.”

How could he say no to that? He couldn’t. Not with those eyes and the sweetness that was Amber. He wished so many times he weren’t gay and they could be a couple, but as hard as he tried and fought things, it wasn’t meant to be; he was who he was and he was very happy to have a dear friend like her.

“Alright, I’ll show it to you step by step, okay?” he offered, appeasing her wish and began to make the move. “Remember now, three turn, then pick, then kick… and then land.” He glided backwards on his blade and she applauded.

“I’ll never get that one,” she pouted.

He stopped in front of her and groaned. “Stop saying things like that. You’ll start to believe them and make them come true. Come on now, you can do it. I know you can.”

As patiently as he could, Sam led her through the steps, slowly and methodically. He caught a blur going by them from time to time, one who was barely there and figured it was Tiffani. She circled them like an anorexic vulture. But the other blur, was a big one. It was Brett. What the fuck was he doing this close to their zone?

He ignored it for now and continued helping his friend. “Alright, now put your toe pick in, then turn…” She looked scared to death, but he clamped her hands tighter. “I’ve gotcha, it’s okay.”

When her nerves were assuaged, her movement continued… and he guided her to rotate and finally land on the other foot, shakily, but it was something.

“How’d I do?” she asked.

Sam patted her arm. “It needs some work, but not bad for your second one of those…ever.” He laughed. “It takes months to years, Amber. Trust me, and it’s different for everyone. Just because I can do it, doesn’t mean you can do it just like me.”

“Lemme see yours again!” she requested. With a sigh, Sam nodded and let go of her hands and began his entrance to the jump again. He’d keep it to a simple single, not only to go easy during the practice, but also not to overly ‘show off’ for the vulture.

With his toe pick firmly in the ice, Sam kicked his free leg around and made a perfect rotation in the air, and landed on the takeoff foot perfectly, just like Harry and the book showed how to do. But wait…there was something else… what the?

With the force of a brick wall hitting him, or at least akin to it, Sam collided with something or someone…and they didn’t budge. He pitched forward and fell down, knee-first on the ice. His face contorted and his fingers, ungloved, clawed at the cold surface for a grasp, to stop his forward movement. It didn’t work. He was aware of voices, and laughter, loud, raucous laughter, with one higher pitch tone screaming out. It had to be Amber. The vulture was too busy laughing.

Finally, his motion stopped, friction, thank goodness. He tossed his black hair to the side and looked up, seeing all the faces around him. There was Amber, Tiffani, and the guard. Tiffani stood way back, right next to Brett. The guard and Amber were right there though, with waiting hands to help him up.

“You alright, hon?” It was Megan, the sweet rink guard that was his age and in his class. She always kept an eye on him.

Sam started to nod at first, but he was still in shock over the collision. What had he hit? His dark brown eyes darted around, wondering if he’d hit the wall. No, too far away. It had to be… he glared at Tiffani. Of course… but wait, her body was slimmer than his, surely she wouldn’t feel like a brick wall. There was only one who could feel like that… and he trained his eyes on Brett.

“Wha…What happened, Amber?” he asked her, hoping she could supply the answer.

“You…and Brett hit each other…as you landed… he swung out of his side and into ours.” She had gritted her teeth and had an angry look he’d luckily only seen a couple of times. So it was Brett!

Sam took Megan's hand in one and Amber's in the other and they hoisted him back to his feet.
He grunted and glanced back at Brett, who looked like the cat that swallowed the canary.
His ire rose and he stared the blond down, as much as he could at his height and all hunched over.

"You! Why'd you run into me?" He pointed his finger at the smarmy teen and felt his blood start to boil.

"You could've really hurt him!" Amber added.
Brett put up his hands and backed away. "Geez, chill the fuck out, willya? It was an accident!"
Amber tsked at him. "Ha! I'm not buyin' that! You tripped him on purpose!" she practically screeched. Sam didn't like it when she sounded that way; it reminded him of nails on a chalkboard.

"I did not!" Brett shot back, but he was defeated by the looks Sam and Amber gave him.
A sweet voice broke the stare fest. It was Megan. "Are you alright, Sammy?" She'd always picked him up after his falls or collisions with the other skaters.

In the back of his mind he could have sworn she had a crush on him, but perhaps it was all in his head.

With a soft grin and a gentle touch to her hand, Sam responded with a nod. "I'm fine, Megan, thanks again. You're my guardian angel."

She blushed lightly and patted his shoulder. "Anytime." With a last quick glance, she dug in her toe pick and with a fast push, skated off.

Amber didn't seem convinced. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Her hands were on her hips...uh oh. A sure-fire sign she was pissed.

"I'll be okay, Amber. I think I'll go take a breather."

He looked over his shoulder at Brett, who was being corralled by his hockey goons.
He didn't look the least bit remorseful about any of it, especially not with any of them around. Though, his mouth was open and his hand was reaching out... until the others showed up.
Was there even hope he was truly human after all? No. Couldn't have been. He was a jackass, and that's all there was to that.

As Sam dug his toe pick in, his knee twinged and he felt pain in it, but wouldn't let on, not in front of all those assholes. They were practically salivating, waiting like a pack of wolves over a fresh kill. It was nauseating.

"Let's just go in."

With a quick nod, Amber took his hand and they skated quickly to the end of the rink and walked into the warming room.

Author Links:




Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Dreamspinner's "Take the Chill Out of Winter" Hottest Titles - and I'm included!


I'm one of the featured authors at All Romance eBooks for the month of February. Wrapped in Leather is highlighted as one of Dreamspinner's Hot titles to "Take the Chill Out of Winter" and is %15 off!

Winner of the An American Lamb in London giveaway


 You should be hearing from Rob soon!  Thanks to everyone that entered. 

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

A Goddess Fish Virtual Book Blast Tour for After the Rain by Daisy Harris

This is a Contemporary M/M Erotic Romance book available February 11, 2014 from Samhain Publishing. Daisy will be awarding a $20 gift card to Amazon or Barnes and Noble to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour.

Please follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here:


They’re going to need a bigger tent.

Henri’s list of bad exes is as long as his arm, but nothing prepared him for his latest, heart-stomping breakup. He thought he couldn’t feel more abandoned, until his ride for a group camping trip bails, leaving him stuck driving for hours with a guy who is absolutely not his type.

After breaking up with his girlfriend of five years, firefighter Logan is working up the nerve to explore his interest in men. He knows he’s gay. He just hasn’t had the guts to do anything about it…until now.

Henri’s big-city attitude and tight jeans push every last one of Logan’s buttons, and when he and Henri have to share a tent, Logan is thrilled. He should have realized Pacific Northwest weather would get wet—forcing them to strip naked. Though the steam between them is thicker than coastal fog, Henri’s not sure he can let himself fall for another man. Not even the guy who finally treats him right.

Warning: Contains bad ex-boyfriends, even worse weather, and more than your average amount of sex in a tent. May not be suitable for those with germ phobias, outdoor aversions or fear of damp shoes.


The first thing Henri smelled when he woke up was coffee. The second was bacon.

He rolled onto his back, staring at the top of the tent and anticipating the salty, crisp fat. Henri was probably sublimating with food since he wouldn’t be getting laid anytime soon, but if he couldn’t eat cock, bacon was a pretty good substitute.

The smell of Logan was there too, though the guy himself no longer took up the better part of the tent. Henri lifted his head off the sweatpants he’d somehow replaced his pillow with in the middle of the night, and assessed his surroundings. Logan’s duffel filled the corner, meaning Logan must have slept scrunched in the shortened space. Other than that, Logan’s side of the tent was completely clean.

Henri’s side, on the other hand, looked like his suitcase had vomited in the night.

The tent flap rustled, and a slice of Logan’s face appeared in the opening. “You awake?”

“Yeah.” Henri started to smile, and he forced his lips to a smirk instead. Things had been fine the night before, more comfortable than Henri would have expected, once Logan had stopped talking, but Henri didn’t want to get too friendly with Logan and lead the guy on. Between the STI thing and still being hung up on Preston, Henri was in no position to start dating. “Is that coffee at someone else’s campsite, or is there a chance I can have some?”

Logan reached into the tent, a travel mug in his giant fist, and handed it to Henri. His grin was shy, and his cheeks red.

Well, drat. Henri was leading him on just by not kicking the guy. 

AUTHOR Bio and Links: 

Birkenstock-wearing glamour girl and mother of two by immaculate conception, Daisy Harris still isn't sure if she writes erotica. Her romances start out innocently enough. However, her characters behave like complete sluts. Much to Miss Harris's dismay the sex tends to get completely out of hand.

She writes about fantastical creatures and about young men getting their freak on, and she's never missed an episode of The Walking Dead.

Want to learn more about new releases, general news and my latest inappropriate boy band crush? Sign up for my newsletter here:

Daisy’s site:

Monday, February 10, 2014

Welcome Lane Hayes - Better Than Chance

Better Than Chance by Lane Hayes

I love a good romance story but until I began writing I hadn’t really stopped to think about what type was my favorite.  Some people love historical romance with Dukes and reformed rogues.  Some love cowboys with a rough exterior and a warm heart.  Others like a good office romance.  The kind of modern day “we really shouldn’t be doing this” love story that appeals to those who enjoy a forbidden romance.  Personally, I love them all  As long as the characters have an unmistakable chemistry, I’m in!

Better Than Chance is an office romance.  At least that is how it starts.  Jay is convinced his project leader is straight.  But he isn’t overly concerned by that detail because he figures the eye candy alone will be worth the long hours he will have to endure over the course of the few months he’ll be working under Peter.   As time passes, he begins to think Peter has a problem with him and he’s convinced it’s the fact he’s gay that is the issue.  Infatuation turns to hate until something happens to make Jay realize he doesn’t really know Peter at all.   And he’s shocked and pleased to find Peter is equally attracted to him.  Jay does his best to play by the rules when he and his boss agree to a “friends with benefits” arrangement, but eventually it becomes apparent he’s fallen for Peter. 

The underlying struggle between Jay and Peter is communication. They are a case of opposites attract, which makes things interesting but a little complicated.  Jay is an open, friendly, easy-going man while Peter is not.  He is driven, serious and competitive.  I love the interplay of the guys as they navigate unknown territory.  Their journey has its share of bumps along the way until they come to a point where they can’t deny they may have something special if they take a chance.

Do I love an office romance?  Absolutely!  As a reader, I am very open to any type of twist an author may want to apply to the tried and true concepts of attraction.  Straight guy falls for gay man, rich guy falls for poor… or the good ol’ opposites attract.  But here’s the thing… I need to believe in their story.  That’s what makes a romance novel exciting to me.  The voyeur in me wants to be a part of the journey.  Although I’m not a huge fan of excess angst, the truth is nothing good tends to come easily.  Sometimes there must be a hard fought battle and other times, it’s a matter of faith.  Or chance.

Thank you for having me today!  I appreciate the warm welcome.

Happy Reading!

Lane Hayes


Blurb Better Than Chance by Lane Hayes:

Jay Reynolds has a crush on his project leader at work, but an office romance with Peter Morgan isn't likely to happen since Peter is straight. Worse, Jay soon fears Peter is homophobic, and his initial infatuation turns to loathing. But one fateful night, Jay is forced to acknowledge things aren't quite as they seem with Peter. Suddenly, his crush is back and unbelievably, Peter is interested too.

They begin a “friends with benefits” arrangement, which becomes difficult for Jay when he starts falling for his sexy boss. Peter’s past issues keep him from committing, and Jay has to decide if he can be satisfied with friendship if Peter isn’t ready to take a chance on anything more.

 Excerpt from Better Than Chance by Lane Hayes:

“Close the door, Reynolds.”  His tone was sharp and concise.  No argument was expected or welcomed.  I obeyed and waited for him to speak.

He didn’t say a word.  He pointed to a chair and directed me to sit with a simple wave of his hand as he began a slow pace around the perimeter of the small round table.  It was like being stalked by a tiger.  There was an electric air of danger in this tiny space and I had set it in motion.  I clung to my anger.  I wasn’t wrong.  Was I?

Peter suddenly stopped.  He stood at the other end of the table with his arms crossed over his broad chest.  As usual he was impeccably dressed in a gorgeous dark suit tailored to perfection.  His dark wavy hair seemed a little longer.  I absently wondered if he was growing it out.  But his dark furrowed brow and intense stare told me to keep my ponderings to myself.  He wasn’t in the mood to chat about hair.  He looked pissed.

“Explain yourself.”

I blinked twice.   I was almost afraid of him, but I knew that was irrational.  I had a legitimate reason for my outburst.  I just wished I had been a bit more professional about it.

“Fine.  I will.”  Professional, I cautioned myself.  Don’t get personal.  “You have given me rather baffling critiques, Mr. Morgan that I frankly find ridiculous and almost contrived in a way that suggests you want to point out the negative whether or not it has any bearing whatsoever to the project at hand.”  Good, well said, I thought.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”  He looked genuinely perplexed.

“You know what I’m talking about!”  I exploded.  “Correct paragraph two, sentence one.... that’s one example!  What was today’s going to be?  Change the use of my pronoun from direct to indirect?  Or is it an adjective that you want me to reconsider?  Or...”

I had become so worked up that I didn’t register that he’d moved until he was three short feet away from me.  He wore the strangest expression.  It was a cross between tempered fury and frustration.  He held up his hand in that authoritative way of his, demanding that I stop.   Stop everything.  Don’t talk.  Don’t move.  I waited like a deer in headlights to see what he’d do.

A fresh wave of adrenaline rushed through my veins as I found myself literally shoved up against the conference room wall with Peter’s large hand at my throat.  I swallowed hard and looked into his dark angry eyes, his face was two short inches away from mine.  His breath was warm against my cheek.  He pulled back and shook his head as though puzzled by his own actions before he tightened his hold at my neck and covered my mouth with his own. 

I could barely breath.  There was nowhere to hide, no retreat possible so I gave in.  My mouth melted underneath his allowing the lip lock to become a kiss.  A fiery passionate joining.  Our tongues fought for dominance, licking and sucking.  Peter’s hands trapped my head as he plunged even further into my mouth taking every last bit of control away from me.  He ran his tongue over my lips before tracing a path along my jaw and biting my earlobes.  I nudged him back with my nose and heard his low groan as he once again fused his mouth over mine.

I wrapped my arms around him and pulled his body close to mine.  My hands kneaded his perfect ass through the fine fabric of his pants as I sent my hips forward to meet his.  We gasped at the first feel of friction as our hardened cocks pressed together through our suits.  It was electrifying and wickedly carnal.  A mere glimpse into how intensely hot the real thing could be if we let ourselves go there.  Peter stopped abruptly, straightening his arms on either side of my head.  Our heavy breathing was the only sound in the room. 

“I want you.”  He growled, resting his forehead against mine.

Purchase Links:

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5 Star Reviews for Better Than Chance!:
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Author Bio:

Lane Hayes is a designer by trade, but is spending more time these days doing what she loves best. Writing! An avid reader from an early age, Lane has always been drawn to romance novels. She truly believes there is nothing more inspiring than a well-told love story with beautifully written characters. Lane discovered the M/M genre a fews ago and was instantly hooked. Her first novel was a finalist in the 2013 Rainbow Awards. She loves travel, chocolate, and wine (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband, three teenage kids, and Rex, the coolest yellow lab ever.

Contact Info:
Twitter:  @LaneHayes3