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Historical moment

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Those of you who know me, will know I am not a big fan of historical/regency romance. (With a few exceptions of course!)

Given the choice, I will select almost any other genre other than regencies. Yet over the past couple of weeks I’ve read not just one, but two regencies that I have thoroughly enjoyed.

The first one I would never even have heard about but for a chance meeting at RT 11. There I was standing in line for the “Free Books Room” (Yes, any romance readers dream – a room full of free books that we could select seven of and keep. Forever) and a woman standing behind me starts chatting to me. She was lovely. Warm, friendly and quite excited. See, it turned out, one of her books was piled up in that lovely room. The woman’s name? Kieran Kramer. And her book? A novel called “When Harry Met Molly.”

Soon as she told me the title, I knew I’d have to read the book. After all, it is a play on one of my favorite movies ever: When Harry Met Sally. It was my first choice in that fantastic room.

When Harry Met Molly

When Harry Met Molly

He’s always been a player.
Dashing Lord Harry Traemore is perfectly content to live out his days in the pursuit of pleasure. But when he’s named by the Prince Regent as one of society’s “Impossible Bachelors,” Harry is drafted into a ribald romantic wager. The rules of engagement are scandalously simple: The bachelor whose mistress wins the title of “Most Delectable Companion” gets to remain unmarried. Harry is utterly unconcerned about his status…until his latest lightskirt abandons him.

Who will win this game of love?
Enter Lady Molly Fairbanks. Harry’s childhood friend—actually, “foe” is more like it—is the most unlikely companion of all. She’s attractive but hot-headed, and in no mood for games. Besides, what could the self-indulgent Harry possibly know about what makes a woman delectable? It’s time for Molly to teach him a lesson once and for all…but will it lead to “happily ever after?”

Ah, the book was an absolute delight. Seriously? I thoroughly enjoyed it. Enough to jump on Amazon, and download the next three books in the Impossible Bachelors series. And who wouldn’t want to download them with titles like these:

Dukes to the Left of Me, Princes to the Right

Cloudy with a Chance of Marriage and

If You Give a Girl a Viscount.

(Unfortunately, none of these books is available yet on Kindle, and Book 3, If You Give  A Girl a Viscount, only releases in Sep.)

The next book I read was another gift from RT 11. A book by Sabrina Jeffries, called How to Woo a Reluctant Lady.

This was  a book I hadn’t even intended to take home. One look at the cover told me it was a regency, and therefore not my cup of tea. However, someone (either Lexxie or Sami) told me I should really give the book a try, because the series, The Hellions of Halstead Hall, had received brilliant reviews.

I took it. I read it. I loved it.

How to Woo a Reluctant Lady


Lady Minerva Sharpe has the perfect plan to thwart her grandmother’s demand that she marry by year’s end:  become engaged to a rogue!  Surely Gran would rather release her inheritance than see her wed a scoundrel. 

And who better to play the part of Minerva’s would-be husband than wild barrister Giles Masters, the very inspiration for the handsome spy in the popular gothic novels she writes?  The memory of his passionate kiss on her nineteenth birthday has lingered with Minerva, though she has no intention of falling for such a rakehell, much less marrying him!

Little does she know, Giles really is a covert government operative.  When the two team up to investigate the mystery behind her parents’ deaths, their fake betrothal leads to red-hot desire. Then Minerva discovers Giles’s secret double life, and he must use all the cunning tricks of his trade to find his way back to her heart.

    

So to Kieran Kramer and to Sabrina Jeffries:

Thank you. For writing such wonderfully entertaining books, and more than that, for giving them as gifts at Rt 11.

Your generosity has definitely got you both a brand-new, all-reformed fan.

Jess

The Delightful Dawn and Daydrmzzz Blog

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Dawn, RC and I (Dawn's the sexy thing in the middle)

When RC and I first arrived in LA for the Romantic Times convention back in April we were unable to sleep. Jess and Sami crashed in bed, but RC and I found ourselves in the hotel bar chatting away and taking in the glorious fact we were on the other side of the world. Enter Dawn. Dawn and Ive and KittyKelly are three totally brilliant, utterly lovely, completely irrepressible readers who were at RT to mingle with fellow readers, party hard and meet their favourite authors. On their first night they met RC and I. Probably not what they were expecting, but RC and I wowed them with our Aussie charm and by 4am all five of us were as close to firm friends as two jet-lagged Aussies and three cheeky, naughty, awesome American readers can be. In otherwords, we had a blast.

Suffice to say, the rest of RT was spent laughing and partying often with Dawn, Ive and KittyKelly (and let me tell you, there is nothing like three women standing at your table and screaming “Oh my God, you’re Lexxie Couper!!” at the top of their voices during a booksigning).

So why am I telling you all this? Because Dawn has started her own blog, it is brilliant and all this week she has been featuring us, the Down Under Divas. There’s prizes, free books and a series of interview question and some very deep revealing answers. Head on over and take a look at Daydrmzzz Blog, leave a comment, say g’day to Dawn from me and take a wander around. I promise you won’t be bored or disappointed 😉

Something to make me feel better

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I’m sick. Poor me, boo hoo. I say this to forewarn you that this is going to be a lazy post, as staying propped up at the computer when you have an inner ear infection is more problematic than it sounds.

 

See? Now I feel better. David B lies around on the couch a lot too. Now if I could just share his couch my recovery would be complete :).

Have a good weekend,

Sami

The height of frustration

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As I sit here, relentlessly refreshing my inbox, waiting for a couple of emails to arrive that are simply not arriving, I have to take time out to assess all those little, tiny, meaningless things that frustrate me no end.

Because waiting for an email, and not getting it, is indeed, the height of frustration. I am utterly powerless. Even refreshing that inbox is a useless activity. Until the sender is ready to send it, it will not arrive.

So rather than be productive and write another chapter, or finish a scene, or edit an already written scene, I’m pondering what frustrates me the most in life. Here’s my list – all of which have happened to me in the last couple of weeks.

1) Not receiving the email you’re waiting for. (Gee, I bet you never saw that one coming.) 😉

2) Not receiving that package in the post you’ve been waiting weeks for. (And darn it, you can refresh your inbox, you cannot refresh your post box.)

3) Waiting for your boss/editor’s thoughts on that report/book you’ve just written.

4) Finding the ideal pair of boots (I mean the perfect pair, that you’ve searched for the whole year, and there they are, dancing before your very eyes…) and they don’t fit. (Feel free to replace boots with jeans, top, jacket etc.)

5) Knowing you have to be up at some ungodly hour in the morning, and try as you might, you simply cannot fall asleep.

6) Hearing the clock tick ticking away the minutes until your deadline is up – and you cannot think of one single word to write!

7) Sharing your most favorite treat in the whole world. (Yes, sharing is caring and all that crap, but damn it, when there’s only one, and it’s small, you don’t really want to share!)

8) Leaving the hairdresser after a really bad hair cut and knowing there is nothing you can do but wait for your hair to grow out.

9) Waking up in the middle of the night needing to pee and deciding you won’t coz you’re too tired and would rather just go back to sleep. And then an hour later, after obsessively trying to go back to sleep, you’re busting so much you get up to pee anyway.

10) Finally accumulating enough points to book a frequent flyer ticket – and the flights you want are all fully booked.

11) Phoning to complain about your mobile/cellular phone service, and getting through to someone (in another country) who doesn’t understand English and puts you on hold for at least an hour.

12) Racing to a public “ladies room”, only to find a line of 25 woman waiting in front of you. (Damn it, why don’t men have these problems?)

13) Going to make a cup of much needed tea, only to discover the milk has gone sour.

14) Recording your favorite program – and finding the crucial last eight minutes never taped.

15) Making an avocado sandwich for your child for school lunch (because he won’t eat anything else. I mean not one other thing) and uh-oh! There is no avocado.

16) Working a full day, racing around with kids, getting them to every after school activity ever created, coming home on a cold, dark winter’s night – absolutely starving –  0nly  to remember you haven’t got one damn thing to make for dinner. (I confess, this happens to me on glorious summer days too. And fresh spring ones. And chilly autumn ones.)

Well, there you have it. My “Height of frustration list.”

So tell me, how does yours compare?

Jess

The game is out of the box.

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Well I can’t really call the post ‘the cat’s outta the bag’ when I’m telling you about the Party Games series I’m writing with Lexxie Couper can I? *grin*

Lexxie gave you a taste of her first Party Games release the other week and now it’s my turn to tell you all about my first book in the series, Truth Or Dare. It will be releasing January 17th and I’m not sure I how I’m going to stand waiting that long. But anyway, let me give you the ‘unedited’ blurb and excerpt:-

Truth Or Dare by Rhian Cahill available from Samhain January 17th 2012
Truth or Dare? Are you game?
Miki Drummond wouldn’t dare put her heart on the line again, not after the hell her marriage put her through, but she never dreamed she’d reconnect with Dayne Pearce and Grant Rogers at the most insane party she’s ever attended.
Grant and Dayne never forgot Miki from school. Ever. And now they have her, they’re not letting her forget them, no matter what the truth behind her wounded heart. They’ll do everything in their power to keep her, including offering more pleasure than one woman could ever imagine.
One night of pure fantasy is all Miki dares to take, but come morning the hard truth is—walking away isn’t an option.
Warning: The author cannot be held responsible for any truth you may tell or dare you make take after reading this story. And if you find yourself sandwiched between two hunky men…take the dare.

Excerpt-

Dayne’s hands moved between her legs and every serious thought in Miki’s mind evaporated. He pressed the bundle of nerves at the apex of her slit and her pussy clenched and her legs shook. Grant, finished with her hair, brought his hands around her waist and cupped her breasts in his palms. His fingers plucked at her nipples, pinched and tugged. With a moan, she arched her back and thrust her body against their questing hands.

Gently and easily, they drove her up. Grant played with her breasts until they felt swallow and heavy, and still he kept going. Dayne slid two fingers inside her, used his thumb to keep up the pressure on her clit while pushing his other hand between the cheeks of her arse. He probed her back entrance, circled the puckered opening before pressing into the dark depths. Her hips jolted as though she’d been struck with a livewire.

The orgasm flowed over her. Like falling rain, it trickled, unhindered along her nerve endings. She bowed into Dayne, crushed her chest to his, trapping Grant’s hands between them. Both men pressed against her, Grant’s cock riding the crease of her arse and Dayne grinding into her hip. Miki wanted them inside her. Wanted to feel their cocks pounding into her at the same time.

“Please.”

***

So what do you think?

Rhian

Celluloid Sex

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I came across an article today about a couple that embraced passionately during riots in Canada, and I thought, aww. That’d make a great romantic movie scene. It’ll probably turn out to be a publicity stunt meant to generate interest in a new men’s cologne or something. The photo looks suspiciously posed. Still, this got me thinking about the great romantic movie moments… which got me thinking about movie sex scenes. What can I say it’s how my mind operates. I compiled a top five, my a favorite movie love scenes.

  1. An Officer and a Gentleman – I must admit to having a serious thing for Richard Gere. I’ll have to do a post about Silver Foxes one of these days. This is probably my favourite of all his movies. The scenes between him and Debra Winger were so steamy it proves the only thing better than a man in uniform is a man out of one!
  2. The Big Easy – I love the mood of this movie. The sultry atmosphere, the southern accents… and Denis Quaid’s abs aren’t bad either. There’s a scene when he’s seducing Ellen Barkin and he tells her that things are done nice and slow in the big easy that makes me want to hop a plane and go there. And not just for the Gumbo. 
  3. BullDurham– Kevin Costner and Susan Sarandon put some interesting visuals to the musical lyrics ‘Sixty Minute Man’. There’s actually no nudity, only very strong suggestion of what’s going on. Is there such a thing as explicit suggestiveness? Who can forget the bath water sloshing over the side of the tub, or Kevin tying Susan up to… paint her toenails. Now that’s a pedicure. 
  4. Unfaithful – When I first heard about this movie I didn’t get it. The character played by Diane Laneis married to a character played by Richard Gere. My Richard Gere thing raises it’s head again. How could anyone cheat on him? Then I saw the movie and I got it. The picture below pretty much says it all. 
  5. Titanic – no matter what else you or I might say about the movie, i.e. that it’s a tad long and a manipulative tear jerker, that scene in the car is damn memorable. Kate Winslet’s hand sliding down the window, all that panting. It’s pretty sexy and made the three hours I spent at the cinema worthwhile—if not the experience of that song. My poor, poor ears.

 

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Love your weekend, 

Sami

Can I Get A Muppet Flail?

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Yesterday I found out two things:

One – Suck and Blow has a release date (15th November)

Two – My Samhain editor (the most brilliant Heidi Moore) offered a contract on Whispers in the Night.

Today I discovered one thing: Tropical Sin is on the Samhain Coming Soon Page.

All three things are pretty damn exciting enough to warrent a Muppet Flail, I believe.

Now that I’ve got that out of my system, I thought I might share a little something from/about each of the above titles. Ready?

Tropical Sin

Tropical Sin part of a four book contemporary (erotic menage) anthology I wrote with the most fantastic Vivian Arend and Jess Dee. All books are set on the fictious resort, Bandicoot Cove on the fictious Bilby Island in Tropical Australia. What’s even more fantastic about this anthology is the first book, Exotic Indulgence, is FREE! Yep, Free. The Bandicoot Cove series follows the sensual exploits of a group of close friends and family members during the soft opening of the resort. Let me just say, if you liked Triple Dare, you are going to luuuuurve Tropical Sin. Trust me 😉

It takes more than a rock star to rock your world. Sometimes you need a friend.

Tropical Sin

Bandicoot Cove, Book 3

Available 6th September from Samhain Publishing
McKenzie Wood is Australia’s star gossip mag journalist, and she’s just spied the story of a lifetime: rumor-shrouded rock star, Nick Blackthorne—who thinks he’s incognito at Bandicoot Cove resort. The word is Nick’s a sex addict about to come out of the closet, and who better to lure Nick out than her BFF, Aiden Rogers—a pulse-poundingly gorgeous firefighter who is always there when she needs him, no matter the challenge.

Aiden admits it’s pretty damned pathetic that he can rush into burning buildings, but not have the guts to tell McKenzie he’s in love with her. No way can he tell his best friend he’d like to do some seriously sinful things to her, especially since she’s never shown one iota of sexual interest.

Nick looks forward to some “unfamous” downtime in his home country. He’s surprised to find his creative muse stirred—more like brought to rigid attention—by a couple so sexy that all he can think about is the three of them. Together.

Three bodies move together as one, and the music becomes a smoldering beat that rivals the island’s heat. When the truth inevitably comes out, the heat might be enough to save three souls…or end up just another sinner’s lament.

Oh, and incase you were wondering, Exotic Indulgence is Book 1, Viv’s Paradise Found is Book 2 and Jess’ Island Idyll is Book 4.

Check out an excerpt here

Whispers in the Night

The thing I want to tell you about Whispers in the Night is that there was something magical about writing it. I can’t tell you too much more at this point because it would give too much away, but it was a book that had me both scared witless because I had no idea what the characters were doing, had me in tears when I discovered what they were doing, and had me wondering where I’d lost my brain because it is by far the deepest, most emotionally wrought and yet romantic book I’ve ever written (and remember, I wrote a hero once who had brain cancer). Mari Carr (who I so want to be when I grow up) called Whispers in the Night my best book yet.

Oh, and when it’s released I promise you’ll fall in love with the hero. 😉

Suck and Blow

I love this book. I love it’s heroine, a wild-child, hellion if ever I’ve written one, called Frankie Winchester. I love the title. But most of all, I love that Rhian Cahill asked me to write a four book series with her around the brilliant premise of adults playing party games, the kind teenagers play when they’ve got the house to themselves. Yes, those kind of games. Here, take a look…

Chapter Two

Frankie stared up at Alec, her heart thumping into her throat. So much for running away from him. She’d thought she’d lost him in the house. She thought she’d given him the slip.

She’d thought he hadn’t come after her in the first place. Why would he? In all the years they’d known each other, they’d never shared anything more than a stilted word after whatever event or competition he’d thoroughly trounced her at. Why on earth would he follow her?

It didn’t matter though. Rational thought had deserted her the second she’d laid eyes on him. Deserted her, and here she now was, hiding out in a game of Suck and Blow with Alec bloody Harris standing before her, showing her once again, how monumentally stupid she was. Damn him.

It’s been ten years, Francesca. It’s time you grew up, don’t you think? Besides, he may not even remember you.

She gazed up at him and her breath stuck in her throat. Did he remember her?

Brilliant blue eyes moved to her, direct and way more confident than they’d been as a teenager. “Hello, Francesca.”

Her sex constricted, an involuntary response to his stunning good looks and the sinfully sensual way he murmured her name. Had to be involuntary. Why else would she be feeling all squirming and…and…

“Fuck off,” the guy beside her growled.

Alec gave him a wounded look. “C’mon, mate. This is my old girlfriend from school. I haven’t seen her for ten years.”

Frankie’s mouth fell open. Okay, that’s not what she expected him to say. What the hell?

With a lopsided smile, Alec raised one sublimely muscled arm, pressed one straight finger gently underneath her chin and, his grin growing wider, slowly closed her mouth.

And she let him.

She let him. What the hell was she doing? She let him?

The guy standing beside her, a bit-role actor if she was correct—and she always was about this kind of thing—slid his own striking blue eyes in her direction.

“C’mon, mate,” Alec said and, God help her, Frankie’s pussy constricted some more at the languid confidence in his voice. “Help a bloke out.”

Before Frankie could say anything, or do anything—like, hmmm, slap Alec’s hand from under her chin perhaps—the guy on her right let out a disgruntled snort and stepped out of the line, holding out his arm for Alec to take his place. He gave Frankie a steady look. “I’ll be at the Twister station if you’re interested.” He flicked Alec a glower. “After Mr. Ex is done no doubt reminding you why he’s Mr. Ex.”

“Oh, he was a witty one,” Alec commented, watching the man shove his way through the crowd. He swung his attention back to Frankie, giving her a wide smirk. “But a little too tame for your standards if I remember rightly?”

Frankie opened her mouth again, a searing heat flaming through her. Just as Alec nodded toward something behind her back. “Head’s up, Francesca,” he murmured with a grin, closing his fingers around her shoulders just as gently as he’d pressed his finger to her chin. “It’s our turn.”

He turned her around, in time for her to see the man next to her in the line lean forward, the ten of hearts stuck to his lips.

She blinked, her ears roaring. Alec’s fingers held her shoulders with steady pressure, the warmth of his tall, lean body licking at her back.

A prickle of something far too unnerving washed over her, something too aware of his maleness, his nearness, and then the man with the playing card on his mouth was pressing his lips to hers as Alec’s hands smoothed down her arms to come to rest on her hips.

She sucked in her breath, the sudden gasp fixing the playing card to her lips. His fingers scalded her through the supple leather of her pants, his grip loose and relaxed and far from suggestive. So why was her heart thumping so hard? Why was her pussy fluttering like a psychotic horde of ADHD butterflies?

The man currently nose-to-nose with her pushed his face a little closer, an over-powering smell of Jean Paul Gaultier’s Pour Homme slipping into her nostrils and she staggered back, Alec’s hips brushing her backside as she did so.

Oh God.

Her heart leapt away from her, the soft pressure of his fingers at her waist making her head swim. Or was it the fact she was holding her breath? Holding her breath with the goddamn ten of hearts stuck to her lips?

Do something, woman!

She didn’t have to. Alec did it for her. With a gentle push and pull on her hips, he turned her around to face him, his blue, blue eyes holding hers, his dimples flashing as the sides of his mouth curled. “So, who’s going to win this one, Frankie?”

The question was asked on a low chuckle, each word making her sex constrict.

She stared at him. Watched him lower his head to hers. Watched him draw closer. Closer. Her lungs burned. Her head swam. The room fell silent.

And her breath ran out just like that, the card slipping from her lips at the loss of suction a mere second before Alec’s mouth pressed to hers.

Explosive heat shot through Frankie, like she’d suddenly and inexplicably grabbed a live wire on an electrical fence. Except it wasn’t electricity charging through her, singeing her nerve-endings and making her nipples pinch hard but arousal. Instant and undeniable. A wicked ribbon of warm tension unfurled through her belly and into the junction of her thighs, and before she could stop it, a low groan vibrated deep in her throat.

His lips were warm, soft. They melded to hers with perfection, slightly parted, his intake of breath drawing her exhalation into his mouth.

He’d expected to feel the playing card pressed to his lips now, of that she had little doubt, but instead of pulling away as she thought he would, his lips lingered on hers. Slanting over them as his fingers on her hips curled a little more firmly against her body, tugging her closer to his body with an insistence that made her head swim just as much as her earlier oxygen deprivation.

She stiffened, for the first time in her wild, uncontrolled life she was utterly and completely bamboozled as to what she should do next. Her feet stumbled over each other, her lurching forward momentum halted by Alec’s hard form.

And he was hard. Very hard. All of him. Hard and big and impressive.

His stomach pressed against hers like a sculpted plane of marble. His chest was hard and smooth under her palms.

Her palms? Frankie’s already rapid heart beat kicked up a notch, thumping against her breastbone like a bloody sledgehammer. When had she put her hands to his chest?

Who cares? The brazen thought whispered through her head at the very moment Alec’s lips parted against hers and his tongue dipped into her mouth.

Oh.

He tasted of sinful paradise. Pineapple and coconut and rum. It was intoxicating. She wanted more.

Snaking her hands up over his shoulders, she tangled her fingers in his messy crop of blond hair, opening her mouth wider to his kiss and stroking her tongue against his. She rose onto tip-toe, the elevation aligning her hips to his, the hard heat of his cock nudging at her groin.

Oh. The single word was nothing but a soft sigh in her mind—a mind furiously trying to remind her just who in the bloody hell she was kissing. Alec Harris. Alley Cat, Francesca, you’re kissing Alley Cat.

And he was kissing her back. And doing a superb job of it.

There was nothing chaste about it. Nor was it aggressive and arrogant. His tongue danced over hers, a teasing caress that sent a shiver up her spine and a liquid tension into her pussy. It was, simply put, a kiss designed to do one thing and one thing only, make her want more.

Oh, fuck, this can’t be—

A munitions dump exploded around them. Or at least it sounded that way.

As one, the partygoers squashed into the media room roared with deafening cheers, some stamping their feet with drumming force, some clapping with equal ferocity, others wolf-whistling and caterwauling and crying out “yeah!” like a crowd of horny teenagers.

Frankie jerked backward, her lips burning from Alec’s inexplicable kiss, her heart slamming up into her throat.

She stared up at him, the sight of his lips glistening with moisture—her moisture from her kiss—making her pulse pound.

He stared back, ignoring the slaps on the shoulder and back the other men around him were giving him, ignoring their guffaws of encouragement and congratulatory chuckles. His blue eyes held hers, even as his hands slipped from her hips, his expression growing…closed.

“Looks like I win again,” he said, no hint of humour in his deep voice.

Someone sucker punched Frankie in the stomach. Some unseen, invisible assailant. How else could she explain the way her gut suddenly seemed to knot? Or the way her breath burst violently from her lungs. She blinked. “What?”

Her face filled with heat. Not just a delicate blush, but a burning heat that didn’t just creep up her chest and neck to paint her face red, but engulfed it with a greedy ferocity. She shook her head, stumbling back another step, bumping into the guy behind her, her backside pressing against his groin. He laughed, his hands falling onto her shoulders to steady her.

“Bloody hell, mate,” he said over the top of her head, and Frankie didn’t need to turn around to see his exclamation was directed at Alec, “why couldn’t I have been standing in your spot?”

****

So, what do you think? After the above three discoveries and announcements, can I deserve a Muppet Flail? Do I?

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