Happy Halloween!

BOOBIE WEDNESDAY

I'm hijacking Hunk Day to highlight a very important subject -- Breast Cancer Awareness. The ladies at boobiewednesday.com change their Facebook and Twitter photos every Wednesday to boobs (either their own or someone else's) and encourage the rest of us to do the same. Men, you can participate too. Use your bare chest or someone else's bare chest.

Yes, this is my cleavage.



I'm happy to have my boobs and I hope to keep them. But we all have to do what we can. Don't forget your monthly self breast exams, a yearly breast exam by a medical professional, and ladies over 40, get your annual mammogram. To all you breast cancer survivors out there, you are an inspiration to all of us. To those who lost the fight, may you rest in peace as the rest of us endeavor to find a cure.

And it is Hunk Day after all...so here are some bare male chests. Enjoy!

MEET THE HEROMichael from Calendar Boy

I'm pleased to introduce one of my own heroes again today -- Michael Moretti from Calendar Boy, available at Aspen Mountain Press. And that's not a typo in the blurb -- Stacy has two last names, her real name and her pen name :). I hope you enjoy!

Forty-five year old erotic romance author Stacy Oppenheimer has always been an introvert, and her recent divorce has left her scared of her own shadow. But when her favorite cover model, Michael Moretti, corners her at a writers’ conference, she swallows her inhibitions for a moment and teases him a little.

Michael Moretti, age thirty-six, knows his career as a cover model and exotic dancer is rapidly coming to an end due to his age. He has his own reasons for attending this conference—find an attractive older woman who he can woo into keeping him in the lifestyle to which he’s become accustomed. Lovely Stacy Summers fits his requirements nicely.

With Michael’s help, Stacy begins to overcome her shyness and engages in some exciting activities both outside and inside the bedroom. But she’s nobody’s sugar mama, and she makes that clear to him when she finds out his ulterior motive. Too bad for Michael, who finds out he just might be in a little deeper than he thought.

Excerpt (explicit sex and language):

“Let me go, damn it!” She threw her entire body weight against him, to no avail.

“No! Not until you listen to me!"

“I could listen all day, Michael, but I’ll never believe a word you say.”

“Oh?” His eyes burned, his nostrils flared. Ruddiness colored his chiseled olive cheeks. “Then maybe you’ll believe this!”

His lips came down on hers with the force of a hurricane. Strong hands clamped her cheeks.

Stacy squirmed, pressed her lips together, tried, tried so hard…but it was too much. His mouth, though uninvited, was magic on hers. His kiss was hard, raw and unapologetic, and it ignited fire in her veins. He hadn’t shaved, and his rough stubble burned the soft skin of her cheeks. And that burning was good, so good. It added to the carnal intensity of their mouths mashing together. They ate at each other as though they’d been hungry for weeks. He plunged his fists into her hair, growled into her mouth.

They kissed until Michael pulled away and drew a ragged breath. “Come with me.”

He grabbed Stacy’s hand and whisked her down the hallway to a secluded alcove.

“Michael, the book sign—”

“Fuck the book signing,” he said, his voice a primitive snarl. He lifted her skirt and ripped off her lacy thong with his bare hands.

“Michael!”

“I need you, Stace. And by God, I’m going to have you. Now.”

Stacy shuddered. She should run. Run screaming. But something in his voice, in his eyes, held her still. He wouldn’t hurt her, she knew. Need burst to life in her core and rushed through her body. Juice trickled from her pussy.

Michael’s fingers sought her slit. “God, you’re wet. I knew you’d be wet for me.”

Stacy closed her eyes and inhaled. If he didn’t fuck her soon she was sure she’d die an untimely death right here in the hotel hallway. The clink of his belt buckle and zing of his zipper buzzed in her ears. Then the rip of the condom packet. He pushed her against the wall, lifted her, and set her down upon his cock.

The Charge of the Goddess

Halloween...or Samhain...or All Hallow's Eve...or the Day of the Dead (actually November 2)... Whatever you choose to call it, October 31 is a time to celebrate the "darker half" of the year. The sun sets earlier, the moon rises and shines brighter, and the invisible border between our world and the Otherworld becomes thinner.

If you believe in that sort of thing :).

Personally, I find Halloween to be an excellent time not only to focus on the halfyear ahead, but also to look within myself and remember what is truly important.

The Charge of the Goddess by Doreen Valiente (as adapted by writer and witch Starhawk) moves me every time I read it. Whatever your religious or spiritual following, this short piece is a treatise on the beauty to be found in the simple things, and a reminder that to truly find the divine, we must first look within ourselves. I offer it here as Halloween approaches.

Listen to the words of the Great Mother, Who of old was called Artemis, Astarte, Dione, Melusine, Aphrodite, Cerridwen, Diana, Arionrhod, Brigid, and by many other names:

Whenever you have need of anything, once a month, and better it be when the moon is full, you shall assemble in some secret place and adore the spirit of Me Who is Queen of all the Wise.

You shall be free from slavery, and as a sign that you be free you shall be naked in your rites.

Sing, feast, dance, make music and love, all in My Presence, for Mine is the ecstasy of the spirit and Mine also is joy on earth.

For My law is love is unto all beings. Mine is the secret that opens the door of youth, and Mine is the cup of wine of life that is the cauldron of Cerridwen, that is the holy grail of immortality.

I give the knowledge of the spirit eternal, and beyond death I give peace and freedom and reunion with those that have gone before.

Nor do I demand aught of sacrifice, for behold, I am the Mother of all things and My love is poured out upon the earth.

Hear the words of the Star Goddess, the dust of Whose feet are the hosts of Heaven, whose body encircles the universe:

I Who am the beauty of the green earth and the white moon among the stars and the mysteries of the waters,

I call upon your soul to arise and come unto me.

For I am the soul of nature that gives life to the universe.

From Me all things proceed and unto Me they must return.

Let My worship be in the heart that rejoices, for behold, all acts of love and pleasure are My
rituals.

Let there be beauty and strength, power and compassion, honor and humility, mirth and reverence within you.

And you who seek to know Me, know that the seeking and yearning will avail you not unless you know the Mystery: for if that which you seek you find not within yourself, you will never find it without.

For behold, I have been with you from the beginning, and I am That which is attained at the end of desire.

HUMP-DAY HUNK -- Taylor Kitsch

Taylor Kitsch.

Really, does anything more need to be said?

VISITING RACHEL

Today I'm blogging with the talented Rachel Leigh. Please stop by her blog to say hi!

And for your viewing pleasure...

MEET THE HERORio from Pay Up

I'm pleased to turn my blog over once again to the lovely Kaily Hart, who I had the pleasure of meeting in person last weekend at RomantiCon!

Helen, thanks so much for having me here today! It was such a treat to actually meet you in person last week at the Ellora’s Cave RomantiCon conference. It was one of my fan-girl moments and it was so cool to sit next to you at the author meet and greet and at my first book signing! Boy, I’m glad to have that first under my belt now. I’d like to introduce everyone to the hero in my latest book, PAY UP. Rio Reyes is…well, he’s HOT. Smokin hot to be exact. Although his occupation doesn’t feature that predominately in the book, Rio is a firefighter—a gorgeous, ripped, ‘knows his way around a woman’s body’ firefighter. The book is a friends to lovers story so Rio and Carly already know each other well when the book opens. She’s been yearning for him for ages and he’s been…pretty much clueless about it. Although…things aren’t always exactly as they seem.

BLURB

Neighbor. Friend. Lover.

At least that’s what Carly Wagner wanted Rio Reyes to be. She’d settled for two out of three for almost a year and it just wasn’t enough. Not anymore. When Rio proposes a shockingly sexual bet, she knows it’s out of character and he’s not really serious, yet she can’t resist. The pay off could be finally getting her hands on the gorgeous firefighter she’s drooled over since she moved in next door.

The timing had never seemed right for him and Carly, but that hadn’t stopped Rio from imagining wild and wicked things about her. It had been a joke—sort of, but Rio’s shocked when she takes him up on the dumbass bet. Now he’s in a world of hurt, because regardless of who wins, he might be crossing a line he never thought he would and jeopardize a friendship that means more to him than anything.

EXCERPT
Warning: this excerpt contains a hot, ripped firefighter, noisy sex, mention of toys and one frustrated heroine! (From Helen: In other words, READ ON!)


“Yes, yes, Rio, yes…oh…God, yes…”

Not again.

Carly felt heat flare in her cheeks, not to mention the other parts of her body. It washed over and through her all at once, leaving her weak, her breathing unsteady and just plain…hot.

What the hell did Rio do to get them to moan and scream and gasp that way? She’d never called out like that in the throes of passion or anywhere else for that matter. She was also pretty sure it wouldn’t have been with that sense of utter abandon or lack of regard for who might hear her. And let’s face it, she just wasn’t that great an actress.

One of the reasons she’d bought her condo in this building was for its construction, specifically the interior concrete walls. It should have been impossible, but some freak design with the ventilation system meant…they had to be going at it up against the entry wall that backed directly onto hers. Why hadn’t that occurred to her? They’d barely made it past his front door, before…

Whew.

Carly inhaled quickly at the sharp pull low in her abdomen. She swore she could hear a faint rhythmic thumping and muffled groans too, but it could just as easily be her imagination taking over. It didn’t take much to have her picturing Rio’s big body and what he was doing with it to get that kind of response. God, he’d be hot and sweaty, his big body gleaming with exertion, his dark hair damp and sticking up where urgent hands had been buried in it, maybe holding on to him, urging him on. He’d have his shirt off, but maybe he’d been impatient, unfastening his pants just enough, having thrust them down roughly so he could—

She took a deep, shaky breath. She really, really needed to get a life. Unfortunately, she’d heard the whispers and giggles for a long time about how awesome Rio was in bed. About how built he was…down there, and about how he knew his way around a woman’s body like few guys did. Hearing the evidence of it for the second time in a week didn’t help.

Carly could feel how damp her panties were against the hot, aching flesh between her legs. She couldn’t help the clench of her inner muscles when she heard a definite thud and more with the moaning.

They were still going at it?

She’d figured after that crescendo they’d be done. She sighed. Yeah, she’d heard about Rio’s stamina as well.

How could she be hot and bothered and jealous as hell all at once? The hot and bothered she wasn’t so surprised about. She only had to picture Rio shirtless and she was there. Hell, she only had to imagine his big hands, the sharp line of his jaw, the flash of his smile or his startling blue eyes and that was enough. The shockingly intense jealousy had snuck up on her over time. And now? It was like acid burning through her veins at the thought of him and what he was doing with another woman, to another woman.

So, who did he have over there?

He hadn’t dated anyone regularly since the woman he’d been seeing when they’d first met. He never lacked feminine attention though. Being a tall, dark-haired, ripped firefighter didn’t hurt him in that department either, but he didn’t play the field like he could. Sometimes he went weeks without seeing anyone. Not that she was keeping track or anything. Aw, jeez, who was she kidding? She knew every woman he’d ever gone out with. It was the second time this week with the sound effects and it was getting on her nerves, not to mention her libido. So, all right…she didn’t have to stand in the kitchen, close to her front door where the sound seemed to be the loudest. She could have moved and spared herself, because she wasn’t sure her heart could stand much more either, but something kept her rooted to the spot.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the counter. Her body was on fire, her clothing rough against her overheated skin. Even the softness of her washed-to-death t-shirt seemed abrasive against her pebble-hard nipples. She gasped as the muscles between her legs and deep inside where she burned flexed involuntarily. Her panties were soaked.

Dammit.

It was inevitable. She knew, she just knew, before she went to sleep tonight she was going to be making good use of her vibrator, imagining it was Rio pleasuring her, his unforgiving tongue flickering over the swollen bud of her clitoris before his big body thrust in and out of her as he braced her up against the wall. She had to give in to it, there was no choice, because if she held out, the need and want and lust became unbearable. Been there, done that. Greg hadn’t been able to satisfy that in her either. Despite how pleasant their sex, he couldn’t satisfy the craving she had for Rio. He never had. She snorted. Yeah, thinking sex with him was “pleasant” should have given her more than a clue, a long time ago.

God. Rio Reyes. He’d been her sexy neighbor for just over a year, a good friend for almost the same amount of time and her secret crush since the day he’d helped her “de-wedge” her console table from the apartment elevator. An elevator she wasn’t supposed to be using for moving in her furniture. He’d laughed at her with his infectious smile and gorgeous dimples and she’d been gone.


I’ve also included my ‘inspiration picture’ for PAY UP for your viewing pleasure. I usually have 1 or 2 pictures I find for each book that provides the ‘feel’ or ‘tone’ I’m looking for as I write. This was it for Rio.

You can find PAY UP at - http://www.jasminejade.com/p-8747-pay-up.aspx

You can find me all over:
Web – www.kailyhart.com
Blog - http://kailyhart.blogspot.com/
Facebook – http://www.facebook.com/kaily.hart
Twitter - http://twitter.com/kailyhart

ENJOY!

HUMP-DAY HUNK -- Hernan Drago

Can you believe those eyes? Hernan Drago, born in 1975, is one of the most famous models in Argentina. His first ad campaign was Hugo Boss. He says he doesn't drink alcohol, doesn't smoke and likes to stay home with his wife and kid, but he confessed that his main vice is eating Ben and Jerry's ice cream. What a perfect guy!

MEET THE HEROChandler from Pianist Envy

Hello! I'm back from RomantiCon in Ohio, so hopefully my blogging will be back on schedule this week. It was great to meet so many of my online friends -- Kaily Hart, Laurann Dohner, Amber Skyze and Fran Lee, to name a few. Kaily will be here next Monday to introduce us to the hero in her newest EC release.

Today I'm highlighting one of my own heroes -- Chandler from Pianist Envy. Although the following excerpt is from the heroine's point of view, it showcases Chandler. I hope you enjoy!

Blurb:

Huge success has so far eluded musician Jane Rock. Coming from a modest background, she’s had to work hard for everything she has. When a music agent attends one of her rock band’s performances at a local club, she thinks her big break has finally come, until an inebriated—though handsome and muscular—patron spoils her show.

Classical pianist Chandler Hamilton has had most of his success handed to him due to his family name. He has his reasons for detesting rock music, but he finds himself drawn to beautiful and talented Jane. Although the two sizzle between the sheets, outside the bedroom they bicker endlessly and envy what they perceive as the other’s good fortune. When Jane needs a favor, Chandler resists. Can love blossom amid clashing notes and tempos?

Excerpt (PG):

She didn’t bother knocking. He wouldn’t hear her anyway. Normally she wasn’t so rude, but the music called to her. His anger, his passion, called to her. Still holding the pot, she stood, mouth agape, as Chandler pounded out disharmonic chords on his nine-foot black lacquer grand.

Disharmonic, yes, but they made a certain musical sense. Discordant in a harmonic way. Sweat covered his brow and a drop hit an ivory key. He didn’t stop to wipe away the perspiration. He punished the keys, ground out eerie yet beautiful music in his raw madness. His fingers danced, his facial muscles tensed, his full pink lips pursed. Another drop of sweat hit a key as he slowed the tempo, softened his strokes, then from piano to forte again as he trilled two notes and boomed through the lower keys.

Jane’s heart thudded in time with Chandler’s now increasing tempo. As he crescendoed, so did she, her breath coming in rapid puffs, her breasts heaving against her chest. His playing conjured images in her mind of a bullfighter twirling a red cape. Vivid reds and oranges swirled through her head.

More chords. Louder, faster…banging, clashing…

Then silence.

His eyes closed and his chest dropped, as though he were only now cognizant of the fact that he required breath. More drips of moisture emerged on his corded neck and rivered down his chest through the few blond hairs that peeked out of his black button down. The stark onyx contrasted against his fair skin in a beautiful way. Jane’s breath caught.

She stood, still holding the empty coffee pot. Should she applaud? Her hands were occupied, and applause seemed inappropriate anyway. This hadn’t been a performance. No, this had been a catharsis, a purging of negativity, a ritual cleansing.

This had been solely about Chandler. Pure, raw emotion not meant for an audience.

Regret flooded her. She shouldn’t be here.

MEET THE HEROJesse from Sweet Danger

My good friend Cheryl Pierson, known for her gritty, realistic and amazingly romantic western historicals, is leaping into romantic suspense with Sweet Danger, available at The Wild Rose Press! Here's a little about Cheryl and Sweet Danger.

Cheryl Pierson is a native of Oklahoma. She lives in the Oklahoma City metro area with her husband. The mother of two grown children, and pet-sitter on occasion, she is always busy. A romance author who loves to read, Cheryl also teaches novel writing classes and is co-owner of West Winds Media, an editing/teaching business for writers. She writes short stories that have been published by Adams Media, novel manuscripts, and has written a screenplay. Her novel Fire Eyes was an Epic Award Finalist and Cheryl recently received the 2010 PNR PEARL Awards Honorable Mention as Best New Paranormal Author. She also placed third in the San Antonio Romance Authors (SARA) Merritt Contest (historical) with her newest novel, Gabriel’s Law. To learn more about Cheryl and her exciting books, visit her at www.cherylpierson.com.

BLURB:

When undercover cop Jesse Nightwalker enters Silverman’s Deli, he doesn't expect to find himself at the mercy of Tabor Hardin, a sadistic murderer he helped put in prison five years earlier. Now, Hardin’s escaped, and he’s out for more blood—Jesse’s.

Lindy Oliver has had her eye on her handsome neighbor for several months. Fate provides the opportunity for them to finally meet when they both choose the same deli for breakfast. Becoming a hostage was not in Lindy’s plans when she sat down to share a pastry with Jesse, but neither was the hot kiss he gave her when bullets began to fly. That kiss seals both their fates, binding them to one another with the certainty of a vow.

But Jesse’s got some hard-hitting secrets. With both their lives at stake, Lindy has a plan that just might save them—if Hardin takes the bait. Will they find unending love in the midst of Sweet Danger?

Excerpt:

In this scene, Lindy and Jesse have just run into one another in the local deli/bakery on a Friday morning. They have lived 2 doors down from one another for a year, and had their "eye" on one another, but this is the first time they've actually met. And what a meeting! While they are having their "sugar ring" pastry, a gunman and his crew come in, and take hostages. Unfortunately for Jesse, the leader is a man he helped put in the pen for murder a few years back who has escaped.

Lindy looked up into Jesse’s face, scant inches from her own. What would he do? They were somewhat concealed here at the back of the deli, but these men were sporting semi-automatic weapons.

“There’s a back door,” Jesse whispered raggedly. “Get the hell out of here. I’m gonna be your diversion.” She didn’t answer; couldn’t answer. He was likely to be killed, helping her go free. He gave her a small shake. “Okay?”

An interminable moment passed between them before she finally nodded. “Get going as soon as I get their attention.” He reached to brush a strand of hair out of her eyes, his own gaze softening as he leaned toward her and closed the gap between them. “Take care of yourself, Lindy,” he whispered, just before his mouth closed over hers.

The instant their lips touched shook her solidly. Every coherent thought fled, leaving nothing but the smoldering touch of his hot mouth on hers, burning like wildfire through her mind. His lips soft, yet firm. Insistent and insolent. His teeth skimmed her lower lip, followed by his tongue, as he tasted her. Then, he pulled away from her, their eyes connecting for a heart-wrenching second. “A kiss for luck,” he whispered. “Safe passage.”

Lindy didn’t answer, more stunned by the sudden sweet kiss than by the madness that surrounded them. Jesse pushed himself out from under the table and stood up, directly in front of where Lindy crouched. Only then did she hear his muted groan of pain, his sharp, hissing intake of breath. The blossoming red stain of crimson contrasted starkly with the pale blue of his soft cotton chambray shirt as his blood trickled from the bullet wound, soaking the material.

He’d been shot! Lindy gasped softly at the realization. How could she leave him now? He was hurt. Somehow, it didn’t seem right for her to just “escape;” to leave him to deal with these men while he was bleeding and—

Jesse hesitated, and Lindy couldn’t be sure if it was intentional, or if the agony of the hole in his shoulder kept him still for that extra instant before he slowly walked away from the table, his hands up.