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The Sunday Night Dinner Club box set releases today

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Title: Sunday Night Dinner Club Box Set
Series: Sunday Night Dinner Club #1-3
Author: Jess Dee
THE BLURB:

Party of Three
Spencer Allen’s quest for true love just hit a brick wall—his best mate, Levi Barret. Their mutual lust for the same woman could spell the end of their friendship…or the beginning of a whole new relationship.

Table for Two
James Elliot never meant to barge into his friend’s bedroom, but now that he’s caught an eyeful of Olivia Taylor, butt-naked, he can’t seem to imagine her any other way. Nor does he want to. James is about to change the dynamics of their relationship – and all Liv can do is hold on for the wild, sexy ride

Dinner at Eight
It’s been eighteen months since Ava Torres last saw her best friend, Jared Thurston. In that time she’s been married, separated and gone to hell and back as a wife. Now Jared is back in Sydney, and he’s determined to prove that true love doesn’t just exist in fairy tales. If Ava is willing to fight for it, together they can find their very own happy ever after.

Warning: Contains all the red-hot action you’d expect from a Jess Dee romance, including MF romance and MFM loving. Oh, and includes a group of friends you’re gonna find yourself falling hard for. You may even wish you were a member of the Sunday Night Dinner Club.

Get your copy now:

AMAZON US / UK

Non Writers Say What?

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I stumbled upon a great hashtag on twitter today whilst glancing at my phone intermittently as I supervise the children during school holidays (hey I deserve to look at my phone. I sat through an entire movie of Spongebob this morning that I’m certain lowered my IQ significantly). It’s called #NonWritersSay and it’s all about the things that, well, non-writers often say to authors, the things that the non-writers—bless them—have no idea are actually incredibly insulting.

It’s now the 3rd highest trending item on twitter, not because writers do nothing but fart around on twitter (although we’d all confess to latching onto any and every distraction when the MS isn’t going well), but because there’s this deeply-rooted painful ball of frustration and near insane anger that lives inside us, a ball that sits tight in our stomachs and gets bigger and bigger every time somebody makes some (often well meaning, many times simply callous) remark about what we do and why it’s easy/not relevant/stupid or pointless.

To be clear nobody’s saying ALL non-writers say these things. We know there are so many of you out there, especially our lovely loyal readers, who appreciate what we do and may even admire it. I don’t even need or especially want admiration (but hell it never hurts), but what I would like is a bare modicum of respect, the same kind of respect bankers get for being bankers, or lawyers get for knowing the law, or even that waitresses get for delivering meals (I bet they never get asked to deliver the meals for free because it’s not like waitressing is real work now, is it?)

So just for the hell of it and because I haven’t done a top five in quite a while, I thought I’d give you all my top five unintended insults from non-writers who—again I say bless ‘em—are completely missing the damn point.

1. “Oh, you’re a writer? I don’t read books”

I can’t even overstate how :0 my face becomes at this one. Not only to encounter somebody who is literate, has the capability to read but CHOOSES NOT TO READ BOOKS (are these pod people?), but to meet somebody so insensitive to your feelings that they basically dismiss your passion—what was the passion of Hemmingway and Austen and the Bronte Sisters—as something not even worth their time (I mean, not even one book a year people? NOT ONE?). Not only that, but they’re the kind of people who TELL YOU THIS TO YOUR FACE. Do artists get this? “Oh you’re an artist? I don’t look at paintings. Saving my eyes for something more important.” What about plumbers? “Oh you’re a plumber? I don’t use toilets. I shit in the woods. Plumbers are completely pointless and irrelevant.”

Like I said. Pod people. Pod people who shit in the woods like bears and don’t read books

(original quote tweeted by @allisonmaruska, but I have heard this many times myself)

2. Would I have read anything you’ve written? Me: do you read ebooks? Them: oh no. I only read real books.

I can’t help but wonder if these people also play Angry Birds, or do they always have to break out the traditional version of Monopoly and dust it off before they consider they’re playing a ‘real game’. Is the point of playing games to touch the Monopoly board? To physically move the pieces around the board? Or is it to have fun? Pass the time? Challenge yourself and your friends? Give you something to take your mind off a shitty day.

Guess what? Stories, like games or movies or music, can do all those things. Even when they’re read from a screen. The essence of the experience doesn’t change, only the method of delivery. I totally understand that not everybody has the technology to comfortably read ebooks. I have no problem at all with that. What I do have a problem with is somebody telling me that ebooks are not ‘real’ books.

Again it’s like saying that what I do is irrelevant. Pointless. Not real.

3. “I haven’t read any of your books but I want to. There’s just so much available for free though. Are any of yours going to be free?”

I don’t know what to tell ya. I’m sorry I feel I have the right to charge for something that took months of my life to get right, for something I did that ate into family time, that I slogged away at from 5am til 7am before I got my kids ready for school and then had to head to my day job, something that caused me countless hours of angst. I’m sorry you feel that a story that will give you hours of entertainment (hopefully!) isn’t worth what you pay for your daily Grande Skinny Mochachinno that you sip on the way to work and don’t even notice the flavor of anyway. I mean, that thing costs $6 and it took the barrista all off 1 minute and 45 seconds to make it. But my book that I spent six months on? Nah. You just wait for that to come out for free one day. Otherwise I’m just robbing you blind

(coffee to book price comparison idea thanks to @sonyacraig15)

4. “Oh you write romance? But you’re good enough to write a real book.”

I know when people say this it’s meant as a compliment. They’re trying to say that I’m a good writer. That I could find a more mainstream audience for my work. That I don’t have to waste my time writing fluffy little books that only borderline illiterate housewives read. I mean I could be read by reviewers from the Sydney Morning Herald if I put my mind to it (which clearly, I have not been doing thus far because the Herald hasn’t noticed me). Yep, all I need to do is apply myself and I could write something respectable. Since I’m already applying myself between the hours of 5am and 7am writing books that actually make me and my readers happy, I suppose I could find this extra time to impress the Board of Wanky Literati Snobs between 3 am and 4:55am. Who needs sleep? The deprivation will probably give me the gloomy frame of mind necessary to write something depressing and gritty that educated people would find worthy of their consideration.

Perfect plan really. Maybe I will write a ‘real’ book one day

5. “You should get them to make a movie out of your book”

@Whitcummings on twitter said it best

“I’ll get right on that. “Directors! Producers! Get your asses over here.”

This one belongs right up there with “You should write a bestseller”, as the best advice Captain Obvious ever gave. Why don’t more writers think of that? Just get a movie deal FFS! I could kiss those early mornings goodbye that’s for sure. Maybe I could even meet Bradley Cooper.

Hmm. Bradley Cooper…. *stares into space like Homer Simpson*

Wait. What was I saying again?

Oh right. A movie deal. I’m going to start EL Jamesing the shit out of that idea. It’s got to be super easy to get ‘them’ to make a movie out of my erotic romance novel.

Oh gosh, there are so many more of these I could do but it’s not a top five if I do ten. Perhaps I’ll do a part 2 next week if the sarcasm hasn’t made anyone drop dead yet.

Cheers,

(and thank you so much <3 to all the readers out there who know what we do and appreciate it, and even more, PAY for our books. We <3 <3 <3 you!)

Sami

Dare to Want More…

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The second wave of Dare to Love Kindle World books has been released! These are special books exclusive to Kindle’s Dare to Love world, created by the one and only Carly Phillips. I’m so thrilled to be one of the Dare to Love authors.

My story is about an Australian Rules football player, now recruited to the NFL, who falls for his publicist. It’s a fun, flirty and sexy romp that Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews has called “a shining example of good things that come in small packages!” and “beyond hot”.

This time the player has met his matchTAD_coverREVLogo

Publicist Abby Lehman likes her job—until she finds herself working as a glorified babysitter for cocky-as-the-devil NFL star Sam Cormack. Sam is unpredictable, unruly, impossible—and also impossibly sexy. It has taken all Abby’s willpower to keep from throwing herself at him like one of his groupies. When her boss insists she accompany Sam to a black tie restaurant opening, things heat up even further. And when she finds out Sam has also been lusting after her she throws caution to the wind and indulges in a hot tryst with him that threatens her career as well as her heart.

Sam knows he screwed up with Abby and curses his impulsive nature. Making love to her was something he’d wanted for a long time, but he should have taken things slower with her, made sure they got to know each other. Now she thinks he only wants her for sex, just when Sam’s realizing she’s the first woman to make him want the real deal in a long time.

Can he make her believe he’s ready to put his playboy days behind him and start something real with his Miss Right?

TWICE AS DARING is available exclusively through Amazon US. If you’re from outside the US there are some instructions on my blog that detail how you can switch your country to US temporarily in order to get the Kindle Worlds books. If you don’t own a Kindle, you can download the Kindle ap to read Amazon books on any device you like. I did it on my phone and it was super easy! Just head to your ap store and search for the Kindle ap.

Do you want to read an exerpt of Twice as Daring? Hope so, because here it is:

Keys in hand, Abby swung around to face him for the first time since she’d exited his car. She’d thought he was angry with her for ruining his evening. But now that she looked—really looked—at him she read something different in his expression. Frustration, yes. Annoyance, definitely. Yet there was something more driving it, something…

“Did you just say…”

“Wank material.” Sam winced. “That’s way too coarse, but it’s the truth. I’ve been as hard as a flagpole since the second I saw you hours ago, when we were both standing right here. All the blood rushing in that direction has made my brain pretty useless. Scott had to stop me ripping off the arms of that guy who hit on you. Hell, I almost ripped Scott’s arms off.”

Abby watched, stunned, as Sam ran his hands over his face and through his hair.

“Why?” she asked, needing him to say it. “Why did you feel that way?”

“Because I’m a jerk.” He smiled that self-deprecating smile. “And a hypocrite. I’ve been picturing you naked for weeks, but I don’t like it when other men do it.”

Abby sank back against the door because her legs suddenly turned to jelly. Sam had been lusting after her? He was jealous over her? Her heart thundered, damn near rattling her rib cage. Nerves made her mouth dry out and she instinctively licked her lips.

Sam’s gaze caught the action. His suddenly intense focus made her heart knock harder against her sternum, when Abby wouldn’t have thought that possible. She opened her mouth to say something, to ask him why, or when, or how on earth a man who could have any woman in the world had taken an interest in her, but all that came out was his name on a moan full of longing that was far too revealing. “Sam.”

He responded with a groan and one purposeful stride forward. The next thing Abby knew, she was in his arms, her lips melting beneath his as he took her mouth in a savage kiss. She snaked her arms around his neck, opening for him, offering herself. Giving away the secret of her desire that she’d fought so hard to hide. It was all out in the open now. He couldn’t misinterpret the way she kissed him with such pent-up hunger. She’d wanted him for long torturous weeks and now he knew it.

But he was kissing her the exact same way, as though he was starved for the taste of her. Abby’s heart soared at the knowledge. Big, sexy, stud-and-a-half Sam Cormack wanted her. The thought was delicious, and it increased her arousal tenfold. Her breasts ached where they were pressed against the hard wall of Sam’s chest and wetness gathered between her legs.

There was no going back to a place of sensibility now. Abby didn’t want to.

“Abs.” Sam pulled back enough so they could both breathe, but he couldn’t seem to stop sampling her lips in frantic little bites. “Abs. Fuck. I want you.”

He was a client. Sleeping with him could screw up her career. He was a player who could break her heart if she let him. Yet his raw, honest confession destroyed whatever was left of her sense of responsibility.

He can only hurt you if you let him into your heart, Abby. Which you won’t. And you’ll only wreck your career if you lose your head.

Abby unwound her arms from around Sam’s neck and unfurled her clenched fist. She’d held onto her keys so tightly they’d made red marks on her palm. She selected the door key and turned around to insert it into the lock.

“Abby?”

The note of uncertainty in his query made her heart flutter. She wondered if it wasn’t already too late to keep her emotions intact where Sam was concerned. Sex for the sake of it, without love or the potential for it, was not something she’d ever tried. But it couldn’t be that hard, right? Men could do it.

Sam could do it.

Why not her?

Keep your heart and head together, that’s all you have to do.

Abby pushed open the door and stepped inside her apartment. Then she turned and met Sam’s gaze with a smile. “Aren’t you coming in?”

Buy Twice as Daring at AMAZON

Cheers,

Sami

Leaving at Noon, the first draft

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No one would ever accuse me of being obsessively neat or tidy, or worrying that the house is a mess and people might be shocked to see it. But one thing I’ve never done is let readers see the messy, first draft of a manuscript. Dirty washing, dirty plates and dirty rooms don’t worry me. Dirty drafts? Yeah, that terrifies me.

So please understand how brave I’m being to show you this. There are spelling errors, grammatical errors, typos and…the story hasn’t been plotted out at all. You’re seeing an extract from this book in all its rough mess.

What’s the book about? Well, it’s the fourth story in the Sunday Night Dinner Club series, and focuses on the only married couple in the club, Zoey and Theo Hughes.

Things have been shaky between them for a while. Their marriage is headed for a major collapse, and this is the scene where everything comes to a head:

Leaving-at-Noon453

Leaving at Noon: A very rough excerpt:

By the time he’d climbed out of the car, stalked down the garden path and reached the front door, his apprehension had turned to anger.

What the fuck?

Theo didn’t pretend to be quiet when he let himself in. He slammed the door and turned on the light in the entryway. Once he’d tossed his keys and her bag on the table, eliciting two satisfying clangs, he walked through the house, turning on every light he passed.

Zoey wasn’t in the lounge. Nor was she in the dining room or kitchen. Frustration bit at him, and he smashed his fist on the kitchen counter. The bang resounded off the walls and cupboards.

She wasn’t in the either of the spare rooms—his temporary home office and hers, until they had kids—which meant, if Zoey was indeed home, and Liv seemed to think she was, there was only one place she could be.

The bedroom door was open. Riding a wave of fear, fury and frustration, Theo kicked it, ramming it into the wall. It bounced back at him, and he kicked again for good measure, hard as he could. The wood splintered against his foot.

Theo didn’t give a shit. He whacked his hand against the switch, and light flooded the room.

Zoey gaped at him from her side of the bed, her jaw hanging open, her eyes wide with shock.

At least, for once, she wasn’t pretending to sleep.

“Are you crazy?” she demanded.

“What. The. Fuck?” Breath sawed from his chest.

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

Theo pointed in the general direction of his car. His hand—which he was surprised to notice held his phone—still shook. “I have just spent the last hour looking for you. Driving up and down the streets of Sydney.”

She sat up, glaring. “Well, you found me. Right here, where I asked Levi to tell you I’d be.”

Yeah, that was true. Levi had told him she’d gone home. On foot.

“I drove to and from Chelsea’s, three times, searching for you.”

Unmoved, Zoey set her lips in a straight, angry line.

He held up his iPhone to show her, clenching it so tight, he cracked the protective cover. “I called you. Over and over and over. Couldn’t get hold of you.”

Zoey narrowed her eyes, then said unrepentantly. “I was on the phone.”

Rage lit his veins. Theo squeezed his mobile tighter. The damaged cover pinched the skin of his middle finger, and stinging pain shot through him. Hard as he could, he hurled the phone against the far wall.

It shattered on impact.

Zoey jerked in shock. Then she schooled her features in a bland mask. “Feel better?”

“Not even a bit.”

“The phone was what? Four months old?”

“I thought you’d been hurt. Broken a leg maybe.” He’d thought worse. Way, way worse. “Taken. Attacked.” Twisted visions of rape had haunted him for an hour, intensifying with every passing moment. His breath was uneven and his back damp with sweat.

—————–

K, that’s it. All I’m brave enough to show you.

*Wipes sweat from brow*

Leaving at Noon releases on the 22nd of May. You can pre-order it now at:

SmashwordsBarnes & NobleiBooksKobo

(It’s not up at Amazon yet – but it will be soon.)

:)

Jess

 

 

 

A Dirty WIP

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When writers talk about the ‘dirty draft’, they’re not talking about the explicitness of their sex scenes. Well, not always :). The dirty draft is what we call the first draft, the version of the book that is messy and ugly and sometimes nonesensical and very very dirty, creatively speaking. That’s the stage I’m at now with Imperfect Penelope, book 4 in the Wild Crush series. So you’ll have to forgive any errors or general strangeness in this excerpt. M’kay?

Here’s the hero Greg and the heroine Penny’s first kiss so far.

If anything the set of his jaw turned even more granite hard. “Penelope. Don’t.”

Every nerve ending in Penny’s body was brought to attention. Greg didn’t so much speak as growl. And the way he called her Penelope like that, almost as though he were scolding her. It was so unexpectedly, freaking hot that her breath left her body with a raspy sound. It was loud, too loud in the suddenly tense silence between them.

Penny swallowed, trying to find her voice. “Don’t…what?”

Her hand was still resting on his chest, and Penny slowly became aware that Greg was breathing as rapidly as she was, the air filling and leaving his lungs in short, rough bursts. He lifted a hand and encircled her wrist and against his fingers her pulse jumped. He leaned in closer, dipping his head slightly because she was shorter than him, although not by much. Penny felt his breath brushing over her cheek, her lips.

When he spoke again his voice snarled in that same way. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

Despite his words, Greg made no move to push her hand away or put distance between them. Penny’s nipples hardened unbearably. Her response was instinctive, primal and uncontrollable. And so shocking she could barely breathe.

Then she did breathe, and she made a sound unlike any she’d made before. A keening noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper. She’d have been embarrassed by it if she’d had time to be, but Greg didn’t give her a moment to think. He swooped, like a hawk upon easy prey, and captured her mouth with his.

Penny froze, stunned by the wholly unexpected move. Greg speared a hand through her hair, holding her head still as his lips brushed over hers. His were hot, surprisingly sensual as they tasted her, coaxing a response from her. Her body did respond, melting in some places, hardening and swelling in others. But her brain remained on short circuit, keeping her from moving.

Then Penny sensed Greg was going to pull away. His sudden, shocking claim was about to end. She imagined him apologizing, frowning in self-recrimination as he all but sprinted out her front door, and the thought that he’d leave and she’d miss this opportunity, an opportunity she knew wouldn’t come again, finally made her react. She reached up and sank her fingers through his hair, preventing him from backing off. Then she opened her lips and invited him in.

Greg groaned and accepted what she offered. His tongue glided sensuously along the seam of her lips before dipping into her mouth. They melded together so perfectly and that was such a surprise that Penny made that weird sound again, felt it vibrate in the back of her throat. Greg responded by using his free hand to cup her ass and drag her toward him.

Oh boy. That was definitely not a gun in his pocket. Only moments ago she’d decided he wasn’t attracted to her in the slightest, but there was no mistaking his arousal. She felt it in the tense way he held his body, in the fierce hunger of his kiss, and the thick bulge of his cock pressing against her abdomen.

Penny melted with an acute, needy pleasure, but just as she was sagging against him, ready to give over to whatever was happening between them, Greg wrenched his mouth from hers.

The abrupt withdrawal unbalanced her, and she swayed on her feet as Greg pulled away. He put distance between their bodies but kept one hand on her hip. Was that because she was unsteady or because some part of him was reluctant to let her go? Penny hoped for the latter, but was afraid it was the former and Greg’s ingrained sense of chivalry was at work. She struggled to pull herself together, horrified at the thought he might see her as a swoony female who needed supporting. She took a step back and held onto the kitchen bench for balance.

They stared at each other for a tense moment. Greg opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again before speaking. He appeared so perplexed that Penny suspected he’d never been at a loss for words before. His befuddlement was kind of cute.

“Well,” she began when the silence became awkward. “That was…a surprise.”

“It was a mistake,” Greg countered roughly, and Penny thought so much for cute.

Well, there it is. A dirty draft kiss. What do you think?

Sami

 

New Release! No More Talking #HeartsAreWild

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The first in my new Hearts Are Wild series is here! If you’ve read 7 Minutes In Heaven you know that Cassie Moreland is the youngest of six and the only girl. Yeah, that’s right, five older brothers! Anyway, after writing Cassie’s book I KNEW I’d have to go back and write about the Moreland boys. ;)

Zac is up first and he’s got the worst kind of dilemma. Not only has he fallen for a friend but she also happens to be his best friend’s little sister.

NoMoreTalking

Available at

AMAZON – http://tinyurl.com/qxayk6r

SAMHAIN PUBLISHING – http://tinyurl.com/lwvdaah

iBOOKS – http://tinyurl.com/p33jcua

BARNES & NOBLE – http://tinyurl.com/oxn4ecp

KOBO – http://tinyurl.com/o9fydau

Are – http://tinyurl.com/n6kt65d

If you’ve liked me on Facebook you would have seen I’ve been sharing snippets all week leading up to today. Head over and check ’em out.

 

Rhian Cahill

www.rhiancahill.com

The Divas’ Week of WIPS

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15124939_mThis week, we Divas thought we’d share a page from our current works-in-progress. Books we’re working on that may be months away from release, that may be a part of an ongoing series, or a total stand alone.

Just a raw page, completely unedited, to whet your appetites. If you like what you read, I know our fragile writers’ egos will love a thumbs-up. And if you have any questions about what you’ve read, I also know we’d love you to ask them. We really do love to chat about what we’re writing.

So to kick things off, here’s a page from (one of) my current WIP(s). It’s working title is The Doc and the Fiery. Yes, I’m 100% certain that title WILL change before it’s release.

It’s a complete standalone and will be included in an upcoming m/m compilation called Out for You available June this year.

Ready? (Remember, it’s totally unedited so there’s bound to be mistakes aplenty)

Oh, and I should also point out it’s a tad…err…naughty.

Head swimming, balls throbbing, Flynn drove his hand deeper into David’s trousers, cupping David’s balls even as he tugged his wrists higher above his head and plundered his mouth with savage hunger.

Six months he’d been denied the man. Six months of aching for him, craving him. There was no holding back now he had him once more.

Lashing his tongue against David’s, he took possession of David’s cock again, squeezing its engorged width.

David whimpered, shoving his hips forward in a silent demand for more.

With a growl, Flynn broke the kiss, pinning David’s wrists harder to the lift’s wall as he stared into his eyes. “What are the chances of someone getting in before we reach your floor?”

David’s nostrils flared. His chest heaved. “High. I’m surprised we haven’t stopped already.”

“So if I drop to my knees and blow you now, we’ll likely get busted?”

“We will,” David rasped.

Flynn slid his palm back down to David’s balls and gave them a quick squeeze. “If I said I didn’t give a fuck?”

David’s eyes fluttered closed. Pleasured pain etched his face. “Flynn…”

“I am going to make you suffer for what you did to me, Ennis,” Flynn ground out, kneading David’s balls with increasing pressure. “You know that, right?”

Another groan fell from David, ripe with desire and need. “I do.”

Sucking in a steadying breath, all too aware he balanced dangerously on the cusp of taking David right there in the lift, Flynn slowly withdrew his hand from David’s pants.

David moaned in protest. Shoved his hips forward to rub his erection against Flynn’s. Strained against Flynn’s hold of his wrists.

“Look at me, Ennis,” Flynn commanded, reveling in the raw need on David’s face.

Grinding his cock harder to Flynn, David opened his eyes and met Flynn’s stare.

Flynn wrapped his fingers—loosely—around David’s throat. Christ, he was but a mere heartbeat away from losing control. “I. Am going to make. You suffer.”

A ragged moan tore at David’s chest. “I want you to. I want you to do whatever you want to me.”

So that’s a random page from my current WIP.

Thoughts?

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