The Doctor is in the House!

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Yep, I just posted about this over at International Heat, and I’m saying it here too. Because it’s not every day you have a new release and I don’t want anyone to not hear me. YOU CAN HEAR ME CAN’T YOU???

Pleasing the Doctor is now available from Ellora’s Cave. Woohoo!


Isn’t it a lovely cover?

And just to keep it interesting, I’m going to post a different snippet here from what I just posted over at International Heat. Go read that first, I’ll wait (there’s a hunky pic of Ryan Gosling in it for you. Go! Now!)


Now, I’m going to give you another small snippet from the book that follows right on from the one I posted there. Here’s where we left off

Sex for the sake of sex and nothing more, with a walking, talking Ryan Gosling meme with edge. Hey girl, I’m going to rub your feet and feed you chocolate-coated strawberries, then I’m going to fuck you in five different positions and make you come repeatedly until you pass out.

The idea certainly had appeal.

“Think about it, Alice. Room 1208 at the Park Towers. I’ll be waiting.”

 *   *   *

Alice stood outside the door to 1208 so long she might well have worn a hole in the hotel-issue beige carpet. She’d thought the decision had been made when she walked across the street to the Park Towers, when she pushed the button for the twelfth floor in the lift. She realized now the real turning point was right here, right now, outside his door.

You can still turn back. Alice closed her eyes in an attempt to center herself, get to the truth of what she really wanted. The lack of visual stimuli intensified all the other sensations rioting inside her. Desire, intensely carnal, pumped through her blood, mixed with a nervous anticipation that produced sweaty palms. It was a potent combination that made her feel slightly seasick.

In the end the desire won—or maybe it was simply a case of being fed up with her own indecisiveness. Alice lifted her hand and knocked on the door.

When it swung back a few seconds later, Damien De Luca stood in the entryway wearing a self-assured smile and no shoes. Alice stared at his bare feet because facing that smile and not melting into the hall carpet seemed impossible. When she figured her staring would begin to seem odd, Alice forced her gaze to travel upward, over his dark trousers, the untucked tails of his striped shirt. He’d shucked his jacket and the ends of his purple tie dangled on either side of his open lapels.

The view of smooth, strong chest and rippled abs revealed by his loosened buttons almost did her in. She was pretty sure she whimpered.

Damien said, her name a question, “Alice?”

Alice replied, an answer to everything, “Yes.”

She stepped over the threshold and wound her arms around his neck, sagging against him. The heat of his bare chest penetrated her clothes and her breasts tingled. Damien—thank goodness—had the presence of mind to push the door shut.

He buried a hand in her hair. His grip was taut, enough to exert control without causing discomfort. He began to lay a trail of kisses over her face, gentle butterfly kisses that belied the tension coiled in his body.

He whispered, “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

“I told myself not to…about thirty-eight times.”

“What made you come up?” He kissed the tip of her nose, a strangely affectionate gesture that caused Alice’s heart to trip in a way she didn’t want it to.

“Are you conducting a survey? Trying to improve your game?”

At her arch question he let out a disapproving grunt and gave her a sharp tap on the behind. “Can the sarcasm, Alice. I don’t want to spend all night working to get past your defenses.”

The little smack he’d given her sent sensation radiating outward. Her backside warmed, and at the prospect of all night, everything else did too.

Oooh, I want to keep reading. Do you?

Thanks for visiting,




What Do You Say To Two Hot Aussie Stockmen?

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If you’re American teacher, Harper Shaw, you might say something like this…


Or, you might say something like this…

“H-hello.” Damn it, her voice was still croaky. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Of course, after you greet them, and get to know them for a few minutes, you might go on to do this…

“So who’s going to try to kiss me first?”

This, in turn, may be followed by some of this…

Harper whimpered, her pussy constricting. The sensation of being pressed between the two men was intoxicating. There was no definition for her mind to comprehend. Pleasure surrounded her. Hard, sculpted pleasure.

Her fantasy hadn’t even come close.

Keith’s erection nudged the curve of her mons, his thighs brushing hers in the water. His tongue swept into her mouth, a gentle exploration that belied the urgent want she felt in his cock.

Marc’s fingers played with her nipples, pinching, flicking, twisting. His lips traveled her throat, his teeth nipping her flushed skin. She groaned with each bite, rolling her hips between them. The stiff length of Marc’s desire stroked between her butt cheeks, Keith’s equally hard pole rubbing against her belly.

God help her, she’d never felt so…so…

Keith’s lips left hers, dragging down her throat, over her collarbone. He skimmed the tip of his tongue into the shallow dip at the base of her neck, lowering deeper into the water as he worked his way down her body.

Without a word, Marc scooped up her breasts, holding them in his palms as if offering them to his best friend. Keith took one nipple into his mouth, sucking fast.

Harper bucked in Marc’s arms, her cry loud in the quiet afternoon. “Christ, yes!”

Marc sucked on her neck, brushing his thumb over her other nipple as Keith continued to feast on her breast.

Ribbons of pleasure unfurled through the pit of her belly. Tingles of heat shot to every limb. Radiating from her breasts down to her very core. She squirmed, her pussy prickling with sudden heat. Her clit ached. She tried to push her thighs together but Keith’s hands stopped her.

He flattened his palms to her upper thighs, his thumbs tracing circles over her flesh. His tongue and teeth and mouth tormented her nipple, each suckling pressure growing fiercer. Behind her, Marc kneaded her breasts, his mouth exploring the side of her neck, her jaw. His tongue swiped into the shell of her ear before he captured her lobe with his teeth.

She hissed at the shard of pleasurable pain the bite awoke, bucking her hips forward.

Keith took advantage of her shift, his thumb grazing the seam of her sex.

“Oh,” she panted, rolling her head. The sun beat against her closed eyelids. The water lapped against her skin. Her senses were in overdrive, her body more aware of every caress, every touch, than she could fathom.

When Keith dipped his thumb into her pussy, she gasped.

When Marc pinched her nipple she begged for more.


Want to find out more of what Harper says? And does?

Misplaced Hands, the fourth book in the Foreign Affairs series written by the most amazing New York Times Bestselling author, Mari Carr and myself, releases on the 24th of this month. TWO DAYS!! You can read more about it at the Foreign Affairs blog (click here), as well as see how you can enter the Foreign Affairs contest 🙂


Sooo, what would you would say to two hot Aussie stockmen?

A Sexy Snippet


It’s been a busy month for me and I’ve barely had time to scratch myself. Well that’s not true, I could have scratched myself quite easily, it’s something I could do while I’m doing something else so barely takes any time. Strange saying, that.

Anyhoo, I thought I’d share a little snippet from my Ellora’s Cave release today, because it’s now available on Amazon as well as in almost any format from Ellora’s Cave. It’s also now discounted at Booktopia, Australia’s fastest growing online bookstore.

This snippet is from Chapter Three, when Sarah still believes David is an escort she hired and David just thinks he’s gotten really, really lucky :). You should see what happens when she finds out the truth!

Here you go:

For a first-time stud for hire, David was a truly terrific kisser.

Sarah kept losing herself to the gentle demand of his lips, the hot sweep of his inquisitive tongue. Every time she toldjustonetaste_msr (2) herself to move things along, get to the good stuff, she stopped herself with the realization that this was the good stuff. The swamping kisses that ratcheted the lust higher by degrees until she was panting and hot, ready for anything.

She had no idea how much time passed but it seemed like ages before Sarah could bring herself to draw back and regain her breath. They were both still fully dressed. That was an irritant Sarah was no longer willing to endure.

Reluctantly, she stepped out of David’s embrace and turned. Without issuing a verbal invitation, Sarah headed for the bedroom and its king bed covered in a magenta-and-gold quilt and a mess of throw pillows. She was aware of David’s intense focus on her as she parted the side zipper on her dress and let it slip from her shoulders. She was confident she looked good in the gauzy black lingerie and thigh-high stockings, complete with garter belt and heels. Her mother had taught her the importance of watching what she ate and Sarah enjoyed working out. At thirty-three she had the same body she’d had ten years ago.

She rarely showed it off anymore. Two failed engagements, one that had ended only a year ago, had made her gun-shy when it came to men. But this wasn’t a potential relationship, this was a transaction. There was no chance she’d get hurt here, so Sarah enjoyed the appreciation in David’s assessment as she stripped, relished the haste she sensed in his strides as he followed her into the bedroom.

From the doorway, he said, his voice husky, “I forgive myself.” Sarah glanced at him over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised. His perusal blazed a trail over her body that left gooseflesh. “This is probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, but you are bloody perfect. So I forgive myself.”

Sarah delighted in the rough compliment, her curiosity about this man digging a little deeper. He really was wrestling with the whole sex-for-cash thing. Thank goodness the fiscal details had been handled by his agent—or madam, whatever she was called. Sarah couldn’t imagine David nonchalantly slipping a roll of fifties into his suit jacket.

Speaking of which, she wanted his off. She needed to see if those broad shoulders of his were as solid and strong as they had felt through the layers of fabric. “Take off your coat.”

His lips quirked as he pushed off the doorjamb with his shoulder and prowled into the room. He slipped off his suit jacket and laid it across a chair in the corner. He went automatically for his tie then stopped. He met her gaze. “This too?”

Between Sarah’s thighs, damp heat flared. “Yes,” she rasped.

Sarah watched, captivated, as David slowly undid his tie and slipped it off. The slide of silk made a faint whoosh in the silence that tantalized Sarah’s senses. When he made no move to release any of the buttons on his shirt, her nipples became pained peaks. He was going to make her push for all of it. She wouldn’t have thought that would make her so hot.

“Unbutton your shirt and take it off.”

The first glimpse of brown skin at his throat make her knees weaken. Sarah sat on the bed, hoping she appeared more nonchalant than she was as she watched him. There was a patch of dark hair in the center of his chest. As he released more of the buttons, Sarah followed its path downward with her eyes, until the tantalizing strip disappeared beneath his waistline.

She saw the telltale bulge behind his fly and her mouth watered. Holding off on making the demand that leapt to her tongue, Sarah settled for drinking in the sight of him shirtless.

He was incredible. Steely muscle overlaid by golden flesh and that fine peppering of masculine hair. He hadn’t built that body in a gym, the definition wasn’t orderly. But he was strong everywhere and so male in a way that was raw, not carefully sculpted. Sarah couldn’t believe her luck in being sent this man. He was hers for the night, and the realization made her pussy contract in anticipation.

“Sarah.” The rough edge in his voice made her meet his eyes again. The passion she saw swirling there took her breath. “Keep staring at me like that and I can’t promise I’ll continue to be so polite.”

His warning increased her arousal tenfold. He might be allowing her to lead but her mastery of the situation was tenuous. It made the idea of commanding his actions all the more exciting. “Come over here and kiss me again.”

Yummy, right?



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Get your attention? Cause it did, you naughty people, you. Now, why am I shouting 69? Because that’s all my latest Ellora’s Cave release, Melt With You, costs. Sixty-nine cents. .69c.

So essentially, you’re paying dirty money for dirtiness. Perfection, yes?

meltwithyou_msrDetermined to win a bet, Olympic skier Darci Watson is racing down a mountain, victory in sight, when the snowy earth opens beneath her. Crashing into a cavernous underground space, she finds herself face-to-face with a man. Gorgeous. Big. Otherworldly…


For Darci, all bets are off. Being stuck in an ice cavern has never been so hot.

An Exotika® paranormal erotica story from Ellora’s Cave

Publisher’s Note: This story was previously published elsewhere under the title Captive Heat,and has been significantly revised for Ellora’s Cave.



The run was perfect. Powdery-soft, lightly compacted snow, sky so blue it almost hurt to look at, air so crisp it could cut glass. Darci was in heaven. Her thighs, calves and butt burned like hell and her breath felt like shaved ice in her lungs—just the way she loved it.

Whizzing down the slope, trees and craggy outcrops mere smudges of blurring color in her peripheral vision, she couldn’t help but laugh, already picturing Crystal’s face. The American would spit chips when Darci swooshed into—

The slope opened below her, completely and abruptly, and swallowed Darci whole.


The word had barely left her lips when she smacked butt first against something that felt like frozen concrete.

Pain lashed through her body, making her cry out. “Fuck!” Eyes squeezed shut, she lay still a minute or twelve before planting her hands on the ground and slowly, hesitantly pushing herself into an upright position, waiting to be assaulted by fresh agony.

None came. “Oh, thank God!”

Her gushed exclamation bounced around a space that sounded huge, and Darci opened her eyes.

An ice cavern. She’d dropped into an ice cavern. Damn it.

Releasing her skis, now just two shattered strips of glass fiber, bamboo and titanium, she rose gingerly to her feet, taking in her predicament. A thick fog of dread rolled over her. The ice cavern was large, yet claustrophobia crept through Darci. Frowning, she looked up. The small hole she’d fallen through was far too high to reach. Her frown deepened. “How the hell am I going to get out?” she muttered.

“That didn’t look like fun.”

Starting, Darci whipped her head around.

A tall man stood behind her, several feet away, his long white hair falling around a face of cold beauty, blue eyes so brilliant she felt her skin tingle. His intense stare locked on her.

It took a few moments before Darci realized he was naked.


So there you go. What do you think? Worth .69c to find out what happens next?

Hee hee hee

You can buy Melt With You HERE


Can I Borrow Lexxie’s Muppet Flail?


I have no idea how to embed a video on here, but I am flailing. I am I am.

I’m stoked to announce that I have signed another book contract. I’m now an author who has ‘publishers’ plural, which is something I couldn’t even imagine a year or two ago. Yes, I have had a book accepted by Ellora’s Cave Publishing. Heels clicking (click click).

I will tell you more about this book as the weeks pass, but for now I can say the book is a hot MF story set in Australia and it is called JUST ONE TASTE. It’s your run of the mill, average Aussie male meets rich American heiress who mistakes him for a male prostitute. Yes, yes, a run of the mill storyline that one :).

Once I have a blurb and/or a cover, I’m certainly going to be posting those right here. All indications are that JUST ONE TASTE will be out by the end of the year. After three years of ‘release drought’ to say I’m excited to be having three books release in the second half of 2012 is an understatement.

Go me!


The Sexy Dragon Contest


To celebrate Ty the Sexy Dragon’s release on Wednesday, I’m throwing a little contest. It’s easy to enter and the winner will receive TWO Lexxie Couper ebooks: one, Ty the Sexy Dragon and two, the winner’s choice from my backlist.

How do you win this awesome prize?

Simple. Tell me here in the comments the title of my other already released dragon shifter book and your favourite dragon in film or literature. Come Wednesday morning one lucky commenter will win an ARC of Ty the Sexy Dragon. How’s that sound?

Ready? Go!


And the winners are…


Denise Rossetti has generously offered to give away TWO copies of Guilty as Sin, one to an Australian reader and one to someone from overseas. Cherub has drawn the names out of a hat (actually out of her Dora the Explorer trinket box), and the lucky winners are….

Keziah Hill



Congratulations ladies. I’ll be emailing you both privately to set up the book swap.

Now I’m headed off to the dinner theatre (aka the Princess’s grade one school concert, which promises to be a fairy tale extravaganza followed by a gourmet meal of a sausage on bread WITH sauce–high brow entertainment of the best kind).


Guest Blogger – Denise Rossetti


Our guest today is the wonderfully talented Australian writer Denise Rossetti. Denise writes unique and intensely romantic tales that combine elements of fantasy, sci-fi, romance and erotica. She is also from my neck of the woods here in Queensland, a lovely part of the country if we do say so ourselves :). I had the pleasure of conducting a talk on writing erotica at the Romance Writers of Australia conference with Denise a few years ago. Today, she has kindly agreed to answer a few of my questions, and she’s also offering an e copy of her latest Ellora’s Cave release as a prize to one lucky commenter.

1. Hi Denise *Sami waves* On your website you mention you had an Aunt who used to tell you wonderful tales. When did you first know you not only wanted to, but that you could create them yourself? 

Like many people, I spent years telling myself, “One day I’ll write a book.” But, of course, I didn’t. Then I hit a rough patch in my life and I had a significant birthday. Suddenly, I was thinking, “Why the hell not?”

I hadn’t written any fiction since high school (back in the Dark Ages), so at the start, I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to finish an entire novel so I chose to try a category romance, because categories were the shortest books I knew. Silly me! It’s funny when I look back on it now.

That was in 2002 and once I finished that first book (it lives in the sock drawer)… ah, then it was a different story. I was hooked on the sheer power of creating a world and disappearing into it. It also placed third in the Clendon, which proved, much to my astonishment and relief, that I really could tell a story. But the biggest thrill of all was that readers—real live people not related to me in any way—said they’d enjoyed it. I was so excited!

 2. What genre do you think your books best fit into? Or would you prefer not to be labelled?

I’ve always been firmly of the opinion that everything I write is fundamentally a romance, but not everyone is so convinced. The Flame and the Shadow, the first in the Four-Sided Pentacle series, was published under the Ace imprint, Berkley’s fantasy line. The decision was made because of the strength of the world-building. However, later the Berkley editors came around to my way of thinking and shifted me to the Sensation line. On the other hand, my two novellas for them were published in anthologies under their Heat imprint.

For Ellora’s Cave, I write erotic romance. Go figure.

I don’t much care to be labelled. I get bored easily and I like to try different things, new challenges. For example, The Dark Rose, the fourth and last in the Four-Sided Pentacles series, has elements of fantasy, science fiction and steampunk, all set on a world like a skewed version of Regency Ireland. There’s loads of adventure and derring-do. Oh—and it’s erotic.

But if you put a gun at my head and forced me to choose, I’d plump for romance because it’s always the dynamic of the emotional relationship between the protagonists that comes to me first.

 3. You put your characters through a lot of inventive turmoil. Does your guilt ever keep you up at night?

Nope, she said cheerfully. I remember going to a Donald Maas workshop (might have been the Melbourne Conference in 2005) and taking his constant refrain of “Make it worse, make it worse, worse, worse!” to heart. I write sword and sorcery type fantasy. There’s no sense in going for small stakes—no one would be interested.

There’s only been one character whose pain really distressed me. In The Flame and the Shadow, my hero, Gray, has a truly traumatic childhood. I hated doing that to him, I really did, but it was necessary to explain why he is so profoundly disturbed—essentially he’s a man at war with himself. The separation between Gray and his shadow, Shad, is central to the plot so it had to be credible emotionally. But by the time I finished writing those chapters, I was shaking, believe me.

 4. I hear around the water cooler that you’re a pantser (that is she writes without an outline folks). What’s your basic writing schedule like… or do you have one?

Hmm, shows you shouldn’t believe in gossip! Yes, I am a pantser, but not entirely. These days, especially writing for Berkley, I find do need some sort of outline to keep me on track. However, it’s always pretty vague and I never, ever, manage to stick to it! But given that I’ve already had to write a synopsis for my editor (which I utterly loathe and despise doing) I might as well take advantage of it. That said, I have to leave myself loads of ‘wriggle room’. Too much detail and I’m bored because, in my mind, I’ve already told that story.

As for a writing schedule—oh, how I wish I actually had one! *sigh* Part of it is because I have a Day Job, but I often say I’m the Queen of Procrastination ruling over the Land of Clutter. I’ve given up trying to tidy my desk before I begin. I’d never get anything written.

When I do have a writing day, I fluff around until lunchtime at least, doing emails, tweeting and stuff. Heavens, I don’t even know what it is that I do, except waste time. I usually start writing after lunch. The dog lies on the floor and snores. The cat insists on sitting on my lap so I have to type over the top of him.

Funnily enough, despite the fact that I’m so careless with physical objects, I’m a very slow, very deliberate writer. I don’t often get carried away and have words simply flow out of my fingers. I have to dig for every single one, which means I need to concentrate. I have a timer on the computer and I turn it for 45 minutes. When it goes off, I stretch and then I’m allowed to check my email. (Did I say I need a 12 step program?) It’s amazing how little I can write in that time. Around 5pm I have this incredible desire to doze off, but the cat comes in and head-butts me until I fix his dinner. The dog just grumbles. So I yawn and go on. By 8pm, I’m firing on all cylinders and if I’m on a roll, sometimes I go ’til after midnight.

5. I’ve saved the important question for last: What is your all time, absolute favourite dessert?

Affogato – icecream with espresso coffee and a nice liqueur, say, um, Baileys. Ah…

 Thanks so much for stopping by today Denise, we’re honoured to have you at our blog. Before you go, please tell us a little something about your latest release Guilty as Sin.

I haven’t had a new book in the Phoenix Rising series for ages, so I’m really excited about the release of Guilty as Sin. It came out on 3 August 2011 and is available at Ellora’s Cave.

Leave a comment to go in the draw for a free copy of the ebook!


I absolutely adore the cover. Not only is the model an absolute hunk, but he’s perfect for Dax, who is that rare thing—hero who is thoroughly good. He’s decent through and through—unlike Michael who’s the ultimate bad boy. Poor Lise, having to cope with them both. *sigh*

Here’s the blurb and you can read the whole first chapter on my website

Michael’s bad, bad, bad—all the way to the bone. A single heated encounter with the master thief and level-headed Liseriel the Gray has never been so furious—so intrigued—in her life. Neither has Michael. Danger’s always been his drug of choice.

With his huge bronze wings and sweet, serious smile, Daxariel the Burnished is everything the thief is not—a generous shining spirit, an honest loving soul—and a virgin.

It’s going to take two Aetherii to catch a thief. Lise and Dax are both so godsbedamned good, Michael can’t wait to debauch and defile, to make his Aetherii beg for dark erotic pleasures. It’s the only way he knows to win—and win he must, because there’s something about wings and tails and trust freely given that has him reeling.

Exquisitely trapped between Michael’s intoxicating wickedness and Dax’s steadfast love, everything Lise believes about duty is dust on the wind. How can she crave both these men, different as night and day?

Don’t forget, if you want to win a copy of Guilty as Sin, leave a comment!

Join Denise’s monthly newsletter for sneak peeks, freebies, contests, vignettes and general mayhem – https://app.expressemailmarketing.com/Survey.aspx?SFID=79564 You can also find her on Twitter, Facebook and Goodreads and of course, her website – http://www.deniserossetti.com.


Blowing it Off – Stimulated, Book One


Did you all know I was writing a five book erotic contemporary series for Ellora’s Cave? There’ll be some m/f/m tales, some m/f tales and even a m/m/f one (I know, right? I still can’t believe it myself). Anyways, today Blowing it Off, the first book in the series got an official blurb an excerpt. Check ‘em out…

Blowing it Off

Stimulated, Book One

A fire has destroyed the studio of glassblower Phoebe Masters. And she knows what that means—a visit from the arson investigators. The two men who reduced her heart to cinders. Men she’d hoped never to see again.

One wild weekend with Phoebe overwhelmed Will Bradley and Damon Hunt. Like wankers, they blew it off, burning any chance for a future with the talented beauty. The investigation gets them back in her life, but now they have to prove the three of them were meant to be together. Their strategy?

A body-blazing inferno none of them will ever be able to extinguish.


“Head’s up, Tiny, we’ve got a job.”

William Bradley spun on his desk stool to glare at the tall man crossing the room toward him. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me Tiny?”

Damon laughed, dropping into the low, beat-up couch sitting in the middle of their cramped office. “Well, seeing as it’s been eight years now since I first met you, I’m guessin’…” he affected a pensive expression, crossing his ankles on the cluttered coffee table and lacing his fingers behind his head, “a lot. Besides, you’re a short-arse. What else am I going to call you?”

Will shook his head and rolled his eyes, giving his partner an exasperated look. “I’m two inches shorter than you.”

Damon held out a hand. “There you go. Short-arse.”

“You’re six foot three!”

Damon grinned. “My point exactly.”

Will threw a tennis ball at him. “Yeah, yeah, Stretch. Tell me about the job.”

“You’re going to love this. It’s in Morpeth.”

Every muscle in Will’s body tensed. He drew in a slow breath, leaning forward on his stool. “Morpeth?”

Damon gave him a single nod, his brown gaze steady.

Will pulled in another breath. Morpeth. The village pretending to be a town north of Newcastle was populated by entrenched, born-in-the-blood locals and artisans inspired by the timeless beauty of the place. Not the kind of place an arson investigator usually found himself. But then, he’d felt an almost palpable urge to jump in his car and drive north more than once since a particular artisan took up residence.

Damn, his heart shouldn’t be thumping as hard as it was.

He narrowed his eyes, refusing to acknowledge how dry his mouth had become. “What’s the job?”

If possible, his partner’s eyes grew mischievous and intense. “Investigating a suspicious fire that destroyed an art studio.”

Will’s heart thumped harder. “What kind of art studio.”

Damon’s lips curled. “A glassblower’s art studio.”

“I take it by the smile on your face the artist wasn’t in the studio when it went up?”

Damon shook his head. “Not according to the report from one Captain Keith Kilgour of the Morpeth Bush Fire Brigade. The owner of the studio was, to quote Captain Kilgour, ‘extremely agitated and reluctant to notify the Newcastle Arson Investigation team’, end quote. Reading between the lines, I suspect Kilgour wonders if the artist is pulling an insurance job.”

The wind left Will’s lungs in a gush. He slumped back on his stool, dragging his hands through his hair. Fuck. He’d spent the last six months doing everything to convince himself what he and Damon had shared with a certain glass artist now living in Morpeth was nothing more than a weekend fling. He’d tried his hardest but now, here he was—palms sweaty just thinking about the possibility of seeing her again, of more than seeing her, when he should be thinking of nothing else but a fire scene.

Easier said than done when Phoebe Masters was involved. Bloody frustrating pain-in-the-arse woman. Knowing her, the moment they walked into her studio she’d walk out the other door.

But what if she’s happy to see you? It’s been six months since she left. Six months to forget how monumentally you and Damon fucked-up the last time all of you were together. What if she’s calmed down? Changed her mind?

Damon cocked an eyebrow at him. “You’re thinking one of two things, Tiny, and both are going to send you crazy.”

Will’s own eyebrows rose up his forehead, his gut churning. “What are they exactly, Stretch?”

Damon returned his feet to the floor and leaned forward on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees. “One, the second we cross the threshold of Phoebe’s studio, she’s going to throw herself at us and beg us to pick up where we last left off—in bed together, fucking each other senseless.”

It wasn’t just Will’s stomach that reacted to Damon’s first scenario—his balls and dick tightened, the image his friend painted affecting him with the subtle blow of a sledgehammer.

“Or two,” Damon went on, his stare locked hard on Will’s face. “She’s going to tell us to fuck off.”

The sledgehammer slammed into Will’s gut again. Damn Damon and his keen insight into the human mind. Made for a bloody brilliant arson investigator, a great boss; made for a bloody annoying best mate.

The man studying him hadn’t started out his best friend but somewhere over the last eight years of working together, that’s exactly what he’d become. Which meant Damon knew just about everything going on in Will’s life, and was involved in just about everything going on in his life as well. Sometimes Will had to wonder if that was a good thing. He bit back a curse. “And how did you arrive at those options, boss?”

Damon gave him a wry grin. “’Cause I thought the same fucking things the second I read Phoebe’s name on the report.”

The confession jerked a humored snort from Will. “So much for being the detached wankers Phoebe accused us of being the day she left.”

Damon laughed. “No, she accused you of being a detached wanker. She called me a flippant, indifferent arsehole.”

Will scrubbed at his face with his hands. “She’s not going to be happy to see us, is she?”

Damon laughed again. “After the way we behaved? Not at all.”

“So what do we do?”

Damon flashed him a broad grin. “Hope to fucking God we can change her mind.”


“You better believe it.”

“She told us what we did together was never going to happen again.”


“That after the pair of us blew it off as a simple been-there-done-that fuck-fest instead of acknowledging what it really was, the pair of us could kiss her arse goodbye.”

“You’re right.”


Damon laughed a third time, the sound far more deprecating than any Will had heard from his friend before. “Be our charming, lovable selves?”

Will rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s going to work.”

“It worked the last time.”

“Until she accused us of being indifferent arseholes and detached wankers the night before she moved to a whole other town.”

Taking my heart with her.

A heavy pressure squeezed Will’s chest at the thought. That’s exactly what had happened. None of them—neither he, nor Damon nor Phoebe—had anticipated a night out for drinks to celebrate Phoebe’s new, dedicated studio in Morpeth would turn into a weekend in bed together. But it had. Three years of knowing each other, of relaxed flirting, friendly banter and good-humored mocking over other boyfriends or girlfriends had unexpectedly and surprisingly led them to a situation so unbe-fucking-lievable, the shock had sent them all for a spin.

A bloody big spin. Because Will knew after two mind-blowing days and two equally mind-blowing nights of watching his mate fuck Phoebe, of fucking her while his mate watched, of all three of them fucking each other at the same time, that two days and two nights wasn’t enough. He’d had no idea what Phoebe expected after the weekend ended, but he knew what he wanted—more. And he knew Damon wanted more as well. Not just sex, but…more.

It had scared the shit out of Will, big time. The knowledge that he was prepared to commit to a relationship society deemed unacceptable with his two best friends left him reeling. And even though Damon hadn’t admitted it at first, it had scared the shit out of him as well. So they’d acted like it was nothing, like it was just a bonk to say adios. By the time he’d seen the truth in Phoebe’s eyes, the proof that she wanted more than just a goodbye fuck, that her silence was wounded embarrassment, it was too late. They’d brushed off something incredible and swept Phoebe’s heart away with it. Dickheads.

“We were chicken-shit cowards the last time.”

For a second time, Damon’s unexpected confession made Will snort. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“So this time, we’re not. We don’t pretend otherwise. We don’t pretend the whole thing is just a same-old, same-old.”

“And how are we going to do that? Considering she doesn’t want jack-shit to do with us?”

Damon flashed a grin—the same grin Will had seen him use more than once when on the scent of an arson, the grin that said I have you in my sights, buddy, and you are going down.

“We hit her with both barrels and let her know without doubt what we want…

“Her. Forever.”


What do you all think?

As soon as I have a cover and a release date I’ll let you know. Oh, and did you notice the next book in th series is called Revving it Up. More about that later, but as a tease, the heroine is a professional motorcross rider and she gets stranded out in the wilderness with her arch rival and the award-winning photojournalist photographing them both. And then some stuff happens…

Can I Get A Yay?


I was going to blog about Sexpo today, the sex exhibition Jess, Rhian and fellow Aussie author, Maggie Nash attended on Friday just gone, but something has happened to change that. (Besides, Maggie and Jess have done an awesome job of covering the event, so check out their blogs here and here. But be warned, NSFW.)

So, what happened today that made me change my mind about regalling you all with tales from the den of carnal pleasures (aka, Sydney Sexpo)? I signed a new contract this morning.

Little bit of backstory before I tell you about the new contract. I started my professional writing life with erotic sci-fi. I grew up watching Dr Who and Star Trek (and my first crush was on Han Solo) so naturally when I decided to write an erotic romance what better sub-genre to explore than sci-fi. Actually, it was’t even as planned as that. I opened a new Word doc and began writing with no real idea of what was going to come out of my brain. Pretty much all my books are written this way, which can be surprisingly fun or frustratingly annoying. My first ever erotic tale was definitely sci-fi. Shifting Lust is still my best seller at Changeling Press and I have to say, the hero–a brooding, menacing bounty hunter called Raiven a’Tor still has a very special place in my heart.

After that came more sci-fi with elements of paranormal. Then came paranormal all by itself (Savage Retribution, Captive Heat, Death, The Vamp and His Brother to name a few). Then I went back to visit sci-fi again, this time with fantasy elements (the infamous The Sun Sword is that book, which only recently came out in print.) followed by some more sci-fi, this time with a foursome unlike any other (Spaceport: R&R). Never in amongst all that did I dream I would ever write a contemporary erotic rom-com. But I did.

Mid 2009, Mari Carr asked me to be a part of Ellora’s Cave Tempt the Cougar series, a strictly non-paranormal, non-sci-fi series. I was as nervous as all hell, but love Mari sooo damn much I couldn’t say no. Copping A Feel was released August this year and, according to my EC editor (the most fabulous Kelli Collins) it was the best thing I’d ever subbed to her. “Freaking hilarious” I think was the words she used.
Of course, me being me, I didn’t believe her and before I knew it, I was submerged again in the paranormal worlds where wild horny sex happens between non-humans and the fate of the world hangs in the balance (Savage Transformation and Endless Lust). Savage Transformation was released last month and Endless Lust will be coming soon from Ellora’s Cave. But somewhere in amongst all that timeline, my Samhain Editor, (the most wonderful Heidi Moore) threw down a challenge. Write her a menage contemporary erotic romance. And do it in 10 days.

So, I did. I opened a new Word doc, put my fingers on the keys and waited. And a few minutes later I wrote this line…

Joseph Hudson tossed his snowboard aside, threw his goggles over his shoulder and swung a fist at his best mate.

Nine days later, I subbed Triple Dare, a 25,000 word m/f/m erotic rom-com to Heidi. Here’s the unofficial blurb.

Joseph Hudson is serious, determined and phenomenally successful. He isn’t Australia’s Businessman of the year for nothing. So how does he find himself lost on the side of a mountain in the Colorado Rockies in the middle of winter with night fast approaching? Three simple words….I dare you.

Fear isn’t in Rob Thorton’s vocabulary, life is for the taking and Rob uses both hands. Daring his best mate into an impromptu snowboarding trip to the US is just the latest in a lifetime of dares. Besides, Rob has an ulterior motive for the trip. And a plan…

Anna McCarthy has seen plenty of trouble in her job as Park Ranger and nothing spells more trouble than the two Australians on her mountain. Even with all her skills Anna can’t stop her body responding to their smooth Aussie accents or the sexy muscles beneath their ski suits.

Finding themselves in a remote cabin, Anna knows keeping a close eye on them isn’t enough. With a storm raging outside, the temperature in the cabin continues to rise until all bets are off.

After all, who can say no to a dare? Especially a triple dare….

Turns out, Triple Dare was quite good. Good enough for Samhain to include it in their Red Hot Winter Antho coming out January which still totally blows me away. Heidi said it was the best thing I’ve ever written (and she’d contracted four of my books at this stage–none of them contemporary) and demanded I write a sequel. So I did. And this morning, I found a contract for Dare To Love in my inbox.

So what is the point of all this rambling, Lexxie, I hear you say. The point is this. Just cause you think you’re a dyed-in-the-wool one thing, doesn’t mean you are. If you never challenge yourself, you’ll never know what you can do. I never ever thought I’d one day be writing erotic rom-coms, but I’ve written three and have another six bubbling about in my brain. Six non-paranormal, non-sci-fi, non-the-world-is-threatened-and-everything-is-dire erotic rom-coms that just won’t stay in the deep recessess of my mind. A mind I was believe could only write weird, twisted and down-right disturbing.

So, don’t let the fear of not-knowing or the certainty of only knowing the safe stop you. If you want to do something you haven’t tried before–do it. Cause you never know where you’ll end up.