Saturday, July 25, 2009

Saturday Book News



Laura Bacchi and Bonnie Dee
Samhain Publishing

Blurb: Butterfly chose slavery, but now it's time for her to fly free.

Butterfly wants kink. But she wants the kind of hardcore, edgy kink that will completely change her life. And she gets it…with the wrong guy.
Navajo woodworker Bryan Lapahie can’t believe his luck when a wealthy photographer hires him to create sculptures for a mansion beyond his wildest dreams. Once inside, Bryan finds his new boss is a man of many possessions, including a woman who has given herself to a Master whose extreme BDSM lifestyle makes Bryan doubt his own Dominant tendencies. As he and the slave known as Butterfly learn more about each other, their relationship grows until Bryan has but one thought—to rescue her from the life she’s chosen.

Freeing Butterfly from her Master is only the beginning of the journey. A trip home to the reservation Bryan had left behind brings the couple even closer together as they learn to let go of the past and become the people they choose to be.

Butterfly had wiped every last smear from the full-length oval mirror in the hallway. She’d polished every inch of the ornate gold frame, even detailing it with a Q-tip, but still she continued to rub and polish, as one minute after another slipped by. She couldn’t take her eyes from the reflection of the giant working in the other room. The mirror was angled to show the study where he carved one of the large pillars. When he stepped back to study it, his face and entire body were reflected in the glass, but he was so intent on his work, he didn’t seem aware of her working quietly in the hallway and watching him. The man was less intimidating at a distance, where she could study him at her leisure.
The way his big hands handled the tools was fascinating. As the carving grew finer, the chisels he chose were smaller and he handled them even more delicately, shaving off tiny shreds of wood. There was a frown of concentration furrowing his thick, dark eyebrows. He leaned in to blow away a bit of wood from the carving, and his full lips pursed slightly. A shiver ran through her as she imagined what those lips might feel like pressed against hers.
Leaning back, he regarded his work, impatiently pushing his hair away from his face. Today it wasn’t secured, but flowed long and loose down his back. What would it feel like to stroke? Soft and smooth as the raven’s feathers it resembled or coarse and thick? And what was she doing imagining such things or even looking at the stranger?
She turned back to her work, rubbing hard at a little fleck on the surface of the glass. There was no reason for her to be here any longer. The mirror was as clean as brand new. Butterfly looked at herself in the glass: wide eyes, flushed pink cheeks, lips parted and damp from her tongue running over them. She looked feverish and hungry, like a woman anticipating sex. This was wrong. It wasn’t what Master had meant when he told her to make the carpenter comfortable and please him in any way he desired. She was meant to fulfill those duties with non-attachment, as one of her owner’s dictates, not with lust and longing in her heart. But she couldn’t deny arousal and sexual curiosity were exactly what she felt when she looked at the woodworker. When Jasmine had taken her place serving the handsome stranger his food yesterday, she’d wanted to storm in there and pull the girl out of the room by her hair. Today Butterfly would make sure she was the one to supply his afternoon break.
Once more she glanced in the mirror—just to see if the man looked like he might be ready for a snack. He was staring back at her, his dark eyes focused on her reflection in the mirror.
She froze, the dust cloth clenched in one fist and her gaze locked with his. What did she look like to him? Long, straight brown hair framed her heart-shaped face. Her eyes were too large for her face, her chin and nose too pointed. She must look like a little mouse to him.
Master had taught her well that demurely downcast eyes best illustrated subservience, but somehow it was impossible for her to look away from the man in the mirror.
He smiled at her, strong, white teeth flashing against his dark face, and lifted a hand in greeting. “Hey,” he called from the other room.
Instinctively, she raised her hand in return, waving at him through the safe remove of the mirror.
“Want to come see what I’m working on?” His voice was low and cajoling, the timbre as warm as banked coals. When she hesitated, he said, “Come on.”
She couldn’t disobey a direct order. Dropping her rag on the floor, she turned from the mirror and crossed the hall to enter the study. Now that she faced him, she could no longer hold his gaze. She examined the floor, the draped desk, the toes of his big boots. She raised her head slightly higher and took in his jeans up to where they met the hem of his T-shirt. “May I get you something to eat or drink, sir?”
“No, thanks. I have my water here.” He gestured to a bottle sitting on one of the bookshelves. “I don’t need anything else. I just wondered if you’d like to see your portrait. And if you wouldn’t mind not calling me ‘sir’.” He laughed. “Makes me feel old.”
She started to explain that it was meant to show respect, but her eyes shot to the column he’d been working on instead. “Me?”
“This one is. The rest have roughed in shapes of the other women on them. I was going to save yours for last, but I was inspired to work on it today.” He shifted closer, more of him filling her view. “Are you… Do you, uh, work for Mr. Sanderson?”
“I serve him.”
“Like a maid or housekeeper or something?” Ducking his head, he tried to move his face into her line of sight. She caught a hint of a teasing grin curving his generous mouth. He had to know what she was, especially after meeting Jasmine. The girl would’ve told him, flaunted it even.
She turned away, gazing at his artwork rather than at him. “He’s my Master. I belong to him.”
“Huh.” The man didn’t say anything for a moment, and her stomach tightened as she thought how strange it must sound to an outsider, someone who didn’t understand. “That’s what that girl Jasmine said. I thought maybe she was kidding, that it was some kind of game.”
“No.” Moving closer to the mahogany column, she examined the freshly carved surface. Butterfly’s features were carefully rendered in the wooden woman, but none of her inner flaws were recorded. The artist’s version was pure and angelic, not unworthy as she knew herself to be.
“So all these women living here seriously consider themselves slaves?”
She took a quick, deep breath. Here goes. “We’ve each entered into a contract with our Master. We’re his by choice.” She wondered if she’d spoken too much. It was hard to know how much she was allowed to reveal to this man. Master hadn’t really told her.
“I’m not quite sure how to respond to that.” He moved up behind her to study the carving, too, and changed the subject. “I haven’t got this quite right. If you could pose for me, it would help.”
She felt the heat his big body radiated from inches away and glanced sideways at him, her gaze lifting no higher than his waist. The hard bulge of an erection was visible at the fly of his blue jeans.
Master had told her to please him in every way. “The man is doing some beautiful work,” he’d said. “I want to show him my appreciation and hospitality. Food, drink, sex, whatever he needs, you supply. Got it?”
Butterfly gestured to his crotch. “May I service you?” Her voice was low, barely a whisper. Even after all these years she had trouble offering sexual favors to Master’s friends or business associates. She would do anything to please him, but offering her body to strangers was still terribly difficult. With this man, however, it was not so hard. Not when curiosity made her want to see what lay behind his fly.


Two Lips Reviews, Victoria, Top Choice, 5 lips
Butterfly Unpinned is a deeply dark tale which touched the recesses of my heart. There are not enough superlatives to talk about this beautiful story or the wonderful writing team of Ms. Dee and Ms. Bacchi.

Friday, July 24, 2009


Hey y'all. I've had a wild day and completely forgot to promote this, but Saoirse did a spotlight for me and my shifter books. There's freebies involved, if you want to go check it out.

Diana Castilleja

Diana Castilleja || Diana DeRicci

Crowning A Warrior King || Coming soon!
Aiza Clan Shifter Series || Print
The Eternal Kiss || Print

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Authors After Dark Paranormal Weekend is coming!

AAD posterKim

From the Authors After Dark!

Save the date! October 23-25, 2009 - The Authors After Dark Paranormal Weekend is filling up fast! Sign up by August 1st to get the lowest membership rate of $160 for the weekend. (After August 1st, the membership goes to $175.)

The event is being held at the Suffern, NY Holiday Inn, located conveniently about 1 hour from New York City and most of the area’s major airports. Guest include:

Jacquelyn Frank


Joey W. Hill

Stella and Audra Price

Bianca D'Arc

Rosemary Laurey

Jennifer Armintrout

Madeline Oh

Georgia Evans

Mechele Armstrong

Samantha Sommersby

Cat Johnson

Cathy Clamp

Eliza Gayle

Diana Castilleja

Leigh Ellwood

Tilly Greene

Selena Illyria

Adra Steia

Stephanie Julian

Judi Fennell

Kayleigh Jamison

Donna Grant

Robin T. Popp

Linda Mooney


<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]-->

Area attractions include the phenomenal shopping at Woodbury Common ( and the Forest of Fear (, held on the site of the New York State Renaissance Faire at Sterling Forest.

The convention is limited to 200 attendees so your “face time” with your favorite authors is maximized. We’re having loads of panel discussions, parties and a fantabulous dealer’s room. We’ll also be holding a massive charity raffle to benefit the CAN and Pets Alive – a local no kill animal shelter.

Sign up now for the best rates! The conference registration is only $160 until August 1st ($175 after August 1st) and the hotel is $99 per night, double occupancy. Lots to do in the area will make this a weekend you will never forget!

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Saturday Book News


Cornelia Amiri
Eternal Press

Blurb: Macha of the Red Braids exudes the essence of female power. Defying and fighting two kings, she takes her father’s place on the throne. With one goal in mind, she uses magic, battles, disguises, and skills of seduction to take the crown as sole ruler, the only woman listed as a High King of Ireland. She builds the famed kingdom of Emain Macha, marking off the borders with the pin of her cloak brooch. Yet a Champion, from the wilds of Connaught, throws the powerful battle queen off-guard when he comes to claim her heart. Has Macha met her match with Nath of Connaught? Will he pass the three trails she has set before him?


It was night, and she was in her element. As there were the dark gods of the moon and the sea, so there were the bright ones of the sun. She was dark. Her gaze fell onto the distant plain where she had raced with Nath earlier in the day. Though clouded in darkness now, she thought of the lush green grass that blanketed the earth. The deep, dark soil was firm and solid: sure, constant, and dependable.

She turned and gasped. Nath had come upon her, silently. He stood there at her side.

“I did not mean to startle you, my queen.”

His nearness was overwhelming. She cleared her throat, pretending not to be affected. “Not at all.”

But she couldn’t tear her gaze from him. Fiery sun, bright and hot, big and bold. Everyone wants him to shine on them.

“The druid thought you would be out here.”

“The druid knows me well.”

When the rays of the sun touched the rich earth, they created the lush, peaceful green pasture. She needed him, the sun for her earth. They completed each other. They belonged together: dark and light, earth and sun, Nath and Macha. Lasair knew it, and druids were never wrong.

He looked up, and her gaze followed his. The pearl moon gleamed, smooth and perfect against the clear ebony sky, which twinkled with countless stars.

“Dark, sparkling, vast and enchanting,” Nath said.

“Yes, the night sky is lovely.”

“I did not mean the sky, my queen.”

A ray of moonlight caught her eye as she gazed at him. His eyes alone could set her ablaze. Fire danced in her. “I need to speak with you.”

“Yes, Your Majesty?” He leaned closer to her.

“Nath, what is it you want of me?”

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Schedule change

Well it's happened again. Nothing I could control, but a signing has been postponed. It's not a bad thing. It's been postponed to a much cooler time, that's for sure. I mentioned the August 1st date being bumped to November 7th already.

This Saturday's signing at The Book Basket has been postponed to SEPTEMBER 19TH. This is the book store stop in Bastrop from 11a-4p. Linda Mooney will be joining me still and we'll both have new releases to share by September, so I hope you'll join us.

Thanks again, and I hope to see you there!

It's out!!


Life has been calm and quiet for Aran for almost seven years since moving into Banter. She is a prosperous business owner, has friends, and helps those in need without question. Yet a delivery of a mysterious jewel encrusted box changes all of that for her in an instant.

Not only is the mysterious box enchanted, revealing someone knows of her deepest secrets, it imprisons a man unlike any other. Bold, fearsome, strong. A warrior from a place she's never heard of, a land she's never known. And the most glaring fact to his arrival is she is the only one with the knowledge to set him free, with a magic he cannot trust.

Rordan must return to the kingdom of Eglandor to stop the wicked sorceress who has imprisoned him, deliver the throne to King Tah-lel's appointed heir, and fulfill his destiny with the woman from another time, another world. And there's only so much time to do it all with the King's health failing and an uprising from within only waiting for the moment to claim the throne.

Read a full excerpt here!

Crowning A Warrior King

Available now at All Romance Ebooks.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

This Week:In Diana's Head

Minor details this week. I've had a schedule change come up. I won't be in Kyle on Aug 1st for the Market Days. I've replanned it for October 3rd, where they'll now be held on the Town Square at the old court house. Lots of trees! My September date hasn't changed. So I hope y'all will come out and see me!

I also wanted to wish one my best friends, Linda, a quick recovery. She's been laid low this week, forced to bed rest--tough, right? Take care of yourself, lady. :)

Also, don't forget Crowning A Warrior King is out this month in E! I can't wait to hold this one in my hot pudgy hands. LOL It'll be in print in August, in time for AAD. Not a bad deal if you ask me.

It's been kind of quiet on the homefront. It's been too hot to do much. One-oh-four and climbing on several days. The kiddo has another karate tournament in a few weeks for his next belt stage. After this, if he passes his class testing, he'll need two tournaments at each rank to gain belt ground. He's been holding steady. I'm very proud of him for wanting to stick with it. And school starts in about six weeks again, which means.... ta-taaah daah.... Cooler weather! What? I bet you thought I was going to say no kid.

Heh... That's a given. *wink*

Have a great week, and stay cool!

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Saturday Book News




Genre:  Contemporary Romance, available as ebook and paperback

Publisher name  : Cerridwen Press

Cover image: see attached

Buy link:


Two Lips Review: Mona Risk tells a poignant yet beautiful and sweet story of two people falling in love, who must fight their attraction. .. To Love A Hero is a first for Ms. Risk. This is a story readers will enjoy.
Review Your book: To Love a Hero has a complex plot. There are twists and turns that the reader will not expect. Mona Risk is a talented author. She knows how to weave intrigue and romance into her story. The characters are well-developed. Fans of romance and suspense will enjoy To Love a Hero.

Mona Risk's TO LOVE A HERO is a wonderful love story complete with deception, conceit, stubbornness and the love of a lifetime for two people who couldn't be more different. Ms. Risk hits a homerun with this story.

Publishers Weekly, Saturday Blurb Special  Beyond her Book Blog on June 28, 2008. Reviewed by Joysann

The sense of the unfamiliar makes the story exotic, and a subtle tension was maintained with the trace of fear for an unknown culture and its politics.  I found myself googling Belarus for some of its history, and that means I enjoyed the story a lot.


Admired by men and adored by women, General Sergei is a true hero in his country. When a lovely American chemist stumbles on the airport escalator, straight into his arms, Sergei has more on his mind than patriotic duty.

On her first international business trip to Belarus, a Russian country dominated by male chauvinism and intrigues, Cecile finds more chemistry than she bargains for. Caught in a clash of cultures, can she betray Sergei’s trust to save his career? Will her love cost him everything he values?

Video Trailer:

Excerpt from Chapter Three:

Cecile surveyed the elegant place. A mirrored sphere flickered with silver glints over the small dance floor at the end of the room. On a raised podium, a gorgeous singer with long golden hair sang while swaying to soft piano music played by a tuxedo-clad man.

The drinks came. They clinked their glasses, mingling the cheers and nazhtrovias.

Cecile struggled to concentrate on the conversation. Not an easy task with the general sitting so close beside her.

“It’s a pleasure to have you with us. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay in Minsk,” the general said, his gaze warming her cheeks like a soft caress.

“I’m sure we will. You have welcomed us with incredible hospitality. We appreciate your kindness,” she replied with a smile.

Elena asked through her husband if Cecile’s fall on the escalator had left any lasting bruises.

No lasting bruise but it was a fall Cecile wouldn’t forget as long as she lived. She smiled at Nicolai’s wife. “Thank you for your concern. The general caught me just in time. I felt better right away.” Oh my God. What had she said? She hoped no one thought she enjoyed being in his arms.

Cecile glanced around furtively. While the others drank and talked, the general’s lips curled to one side. He hadn’t missed the possible double meaning.

Another wave of heat spread over her throat. Dang, there was definitely a lasting bruise on her senses. She took off her jacket and smoothed her skirt. As dinner was served, she fiddled with a lump of bread and avoided his penetrating gaze. She ate little, preferring the potato pancakes to the greasy meat. With the strong presence beside her, a different hunger built in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly thirsty, she gulped her beer and forced herself to participate in the general conversation.

Nicolai stood and tugged at his wife’s hand. “Please, excuse us. I want to dance with Elena. We don’t often enjoy the luxury of such expensive places.”

John followed suit and pulled Tania to her feet. “Come on. Let me shake my old legs.”

Cecile remained at her place. She took a piece of bread and balled it between her fingers. No one had mentioned dancing as part of this evening. She felt the general’s gaze on her. No please. Don’t ask. She was here to work. Only to work.

The general stood and extended an open palm “May I have the honor?” She placed her hand in his and steadied her wobbly knees.

He swept her away from their table, toward the dance floor and wrapped an arm around her waist, branding her with his touch. Blazing heat penetrated through the silk of her blouse. They mingled with the crowd, gliding around. Cecile floated on a cloud. She was back in his arms. And not by accident, this time. At first, they moved slowly to the music, then he brought her closer and her body recognized with pleasure the rock-hard chest. He tightened his hold. She almost groaned, her senses focused on the taut biceps pressing on her side. “Crassiva,” he whispered in her ear.


“You’re so lovely, Cecile. Crassiva means pretty.”

“General, please. I’m here on business.”

“I’m not about to forget it. But can’t you relax and enjoy the evening, the soft music?”

“I am enjoying myself. Really, your hospitality is amazing.”

“Our hospitality?” He shook his head. “Cecile can’t you stop being the Program Manager for a few hours? I’m trying to talk to you, to the beautiful woman I’m dancing with. Is it an unforgivable mistake?” His breath fanned her earlobe. She had trouble making sense of his words. Was it the result of the morning’s vodka, the beer she drank a moment ago, or the strong arms holding her pressed against his muscled chest? “Tonight we should have fun. Tomorrow we will work.” He smiled at her, such a beguiling smile that she sighed. Her legs turned into jelly and her insides melted into delicious, hot syrup.

“Tomorrow?” she repeated in a whisper. Tonight she wanted to have fun, to forget Rob, her project and the many obstacles waiting for her. Her hand slipped from his shoulder and curled around his neck.

“Yes. Tonight we celebrate, we drink and we dance.” The charm and sultry sexiness in his voice held her motionless. His finger traced a line along her forehead, circled her cheek and swept over her lips in a gentle caress. She guessed he expected her to raise her business flag, to hide behind the contract and their professional relationship.

For the life of her, Cecile couldn’t pull back. She wanted to feel—just one more time—the strength of powerful arms holding her against the shelter of his solid chest. Linking her fingers around his neck, she leaned against the muscled torso and relaxed, secure in his embrace.

He whirled around and danced them to the darkest corner of the dance floor. His lips slid from her temple to her closed eyelids, brushed her cheek and rested for a fleeting second achingly close to her mouth. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited and yearned for his kiss. But he pressed his cheek on top of her head and held her tightly. She swallowed a frustrated groan as she listened to the comforting thump of his heart and hung on his neck, almost forgetting to dance.

After a couple of dances, she thought she recognized an old classical music. “Is it by any chance Strangers in the Night?”

“I don’t know the name in English but it’s your Frank Sinatra’s famous song. Do you like it?”

“Well it’s kind of old.”

“Maybe old but special for us now. We are still strangers tonight. I’ll sing it for you in Russian.” Cecile forgot the goal of her trip and the illustrious identity of her companion as he hummed the classic melody with words she didn’t understand but felt deep in her heart.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Saturday Book News


Author name: Annette Snyder
Publisher name: Whiskey Creek Press 
Buy link:
Your link/Publisher Link:

Bradie Carpenter holds dear only memories of love lost. Armed with determination after Grant Blain’s tragic death, Bradie moves forward in life with their son. Without the exclusive Blain family name or the advantage of the family fortune and, diligent to overcome the obstacles of single parenthood, she sets a goal of a better life in the picturesque town of Union.

Andrew “Amen” Packard married too young with an unrealistic view of the future. After a turbulent divorce stemming from pressure of his firefighter career, Amen chooses his heated profession over affection for wife, family and friends.  Not until he meets Bradie does he rethink his decision to exclude love from his life.

Can Bradie discover that money doesn’t always extinguish love?

Will Amen allow a ready-made family near enough to bash towering walls of seclusion?

Is friendship and attraction enough to heal the lives of two souls charred from fate? 


Bradie stretched on the bed and pulled the blankets over her head. She didn’t have to get up early. Why didn’t Grant consider that when he flicked on the bathroom light?

She heard his morning bathroom noises and initially growled because of the interruption to her sleep, then laughed aloud at the comedy of them. First, a wrestle with the tin medicine cabinet, then a loud bang of the plastic toilet seat, followed by the roaring, watery flush. It wasn’t hard for him to adjust to life in a rundown trailer house after growing up in a luxurious, twenty-room mansion with marble floors and golden fixtures, and that surprised her. Even after leaving outrageous wealth so they could share life together, he was still optimistic. Grant still found enough happiness to wake at six in the morning and get ready for his meager paying job. He still found enough happiness in his life to belt out words to historic show tunes with a mouth full of toothpaste.

As she lay in bed, Bradie giggled.

“You know I used to sing in the school choir.” Grant’s laughter echoed from the bathroom. He spit, conquered the few steps and flung himself on the bed. The metal springs rattled and squeaked as he landed.

She buried her head farther and talked from under the blankets. “With toothpaste in your mouth?” she questioned, her voice muffled.

“It was quite the draw. My fans came from miles to watch me perform.” His overdramatic, singsong reply came as he dug to find her under the covers.

“I’m sure they did.” Bradie chuckled as she fought herself into a blanketed cocoon so he couldn’t reach.

“They…” he began as he struggled to find a way in and reached to touch her warm, bare skin, “…did.” He kissed her.

As thanks to Diana for hosting me today, and in honor of the release of my newest work, Intimate Flames,  I’m offering a great July prize to all participants on this blog.  With your comment, you have a chance to win an autographed copy of Intimate Flames, the  perfect summer afternoon read, a bottle of sunscreen to ward off those harmful rays while you bask in the sun and a cool book tote to store all your picnic or beach supplies.   Good luck and thanks for stopping by!



Thursday, July 2, 2009

Thursday Book Review


There's something about almost dying that makes a girl rethink her priorities. Take Nicki Styx—she was strictly goth and vintage, until a brush with the afterlife leaves her with the ability to see dead people. Before you can say boo, Atlanta's ghosts are knocking at Nicki's door. Now her days consist of reluctantly cleaning up messes left by the dearly departed, leading ghouls to the Light . . . and one-on-one anatomy lessons with Dr. Joe Bascombe, the dreamy surgeon who saved her life. All this catering to the deceased is a real drag, especially for a girl who'd rather be playing hanky-panky with her hunky new boyfriend . . . who's beginning to think she's totally nuts.

But things get even more complicated when a friend foolishly sells her soul to the devil, and Nicki's new gift lands her in some deep voodoo. As it turns out for Nicki Styx, death was just the beginning.


Dead Girls Are Easy is the first of the Nicki Styx books. A girl, who after a NDE (near death experience), begins to have visits from the afterlife. It's a very intriguing storyline and theme for the books--black magic and voodoo. I'm torn between gushing over the really awesome parts--the details involved in creating the voodoo tangents, the friendship between Nicki and Evan, and her own personality, to the lackluster romance between her and Joe, and the overall creepiness of the voodoo. I wish I felt that the romance had been integral to the story, but it wasn't. This is a great paranormal but don't expect to be blown away by sparks, or fireworks. The relationship aspect seemed too laid back, too back seat. I understand with series books with the same character, it requires pacing, so maybe it was my interpretation. However, if you have an interest in the black arts, are familiar with Atlanta (I'm not), or enjoy a spunky young girl with a new talent (I did) then I'd recommend checking out Dead Girls Are Easy.