Monday, 30 May 2011

Guest Blog: Lindsay Klug

Scorched Sheets is pleased to welcome author Lindsay Klug today.Welcome, Lindsay! Thank you for stopping by!

Writer’s Block

By Lindsay Klug

There’s a blank page staring at me. It’s intimidating me with it’s perfect lines, all white and pristine and untouched. And I have no idea how to get past the damn thing.

I could just talk and babble. Nice weather we’ve been having lately, huh? Well, not really. While the Midwest of the USA drowns, my tiny corner has been 105 days without rain. Mountain lions have been roaming into downtown in an attempt to find food.

Maybe small talk isn’t the best route to take, after all. Hmm…Still more blank paper is mocking me. Hey, Lindsay, come write on me why don’t you? You want something written, paper? Fine, I’ll write on you.

I’m writing. See? Here’s some words. Some meaningless, nothing words that are inconsequential to the human race, like a flea is to a rhinoceros. Writing, writing, writing. Typing, typing, typing. Scribble, scrabble, mumble jumble.

Oh, I forgot. I should be doing laundry. The clothes are begging to be folded, screaming out to me in their tortured wrinkled state, bleeding as they beg to be creased in a perfect angle. And I have to do the dishes. They’re festering in the sink in their malignant and evil half rinsed state, laughing maniacally as the food dries to the slippery surface in a mocking slap to my face.

But doing those things while this blank piece of paper sits in front of me, waiting patiently to be written on is blasphemous. Sneering at me as I gape at it in loathing. I abhor the color white. It’s the color – no, the absence of color that’s hovered around me all my life and now the cursed thing stares me in the face, shrilly laughing at my inability to fill it with something.

What’s that, dear husband? Go look at this website? Certainly. Click, click, cli – WAIT. I’m supposed to be filling this page with something or other. Concentrate. Ignore the gunner video game that’s just popped on the TV screen. Ignore the screaming children, unless blood splatters hit your face. Ignore the damn cat who’s trying to nudge your boob out of the way to gain maximum lap advantage.

Man, I’m thirsty. I might go make a batch of sweet tea. It has to steep for a few minutes, of course. And I think I’m out of lemons, so I’ll need to run to the store first, and then I can…

I can procrastinate. That’s what’s happening here. I have the dreaded Writer’s Block, that cinderblock wall reinforced with bricks and barb wire and an electric jolt just for safe measure. It’s impossible to leap over unless you’re Superman.

The only way out of the proverbial ditch is to tunnel. And would you look at that? It’s exactly what I did.

To find more of my ramblings, come on by or You can find out more about my latest and upcoming release there, or come chat with me on Twitter (@inifdelqueen) or at! Thanks for having me out today, Shay!

Sunday, 29 May 2011

Six Sentence Sunday: Branded

Today I thought I'd give you a taste from my romantic bondage tale that was recently accepted by Sizzler Editions.

Set up: Margarit St.James has been given the reins of the Branded division of St James Virtual Publishing. The man who was demoted to VP of Operations, Alex Barrett, has finally decided to show up after being AWOL since she'd taken over. He has just walked in during a board meeting and upon seeing him she realizes he's the one man she's never been able to forget.


         Her heart skipped a beat as an image of him swirled to the surface of her mind. He was leaning over her as she sat on his lap. His mouth capturing the moans of pleasure escaping hers despite her best efforts to remain quiet. His tongue thrusting inside tangling with hers in tune with the rhythm to his fingers plunging in and out of her pussy. 

         Alex Barrett…her missing VP walked…no walked was too tame a word for the way he moved, he prowled like a big jungle cat along the edge of the conference room, not stopping, until he reached the chair to her right. He met her gaze and held it as he sat down.

I wish you all a wonderful week. Don't forget to check back tomorrow. I'll be hosting guest blogger, Lindsay Klug. She'll be talking about Writer's Block. Click on the link to return to Six Sentence Sunday.

Until we meet again where passion breathes...


Wednesday, 25 May 2011

Guest Blog: Jean Joachim

Today Scorched Sheets is pleased to welcome contemporary romance author, Jean Joachim! Thank you for dropping by, Jean!

Jean Joachim

I write both sensual and sweet romance. Each has a different audience. Currently I’m working on a sequel to my sweet romance, “Sunny Days, Moonlit Nights”. How can you have a romance with no sex? You can, as long as you have sexual tension. It’s a challenge to create sexual tension not ending in consummated lovemaking.
While I prefer writing sensual romance as I enjoy writing love scenes ending in satisfaction, I find the sweet romance writing to be more challenging. I have to rely more on plot and can’t fall back on adding a love scene when I’m feeling lazy.
How do you create sexual tension without going “all the way”? Here is the passion:

“She gazed into his eyes and saw his desire glittering. She was both thrilled and frightened by his closeness, the feel of his warm breath on her skin, the heat coming from his chest so close to hers. He reached around her waist and pulled her closer for a more passionate kiss, crushing her breasts against him, parting her lips with his, making way for his tongue to take possession of her mouth.”

Here is the reason it can’t go further:

“Until Hank filed the papers, she wasn’t even legally separated. She couldn’t take chances and continue on this path with Mike. The moonlight was sure to lead to the bedroom…and the possibility of a lawsuit from Brad. She stood up reluctantly, and Mike followed.”
After a steamy kiss, Sunny pulls away to save her beloved, Mike, from the wrath of her soon-to-be-ex  husband. These are quotes from “Sunny Days, Moonlit Nights”. It is important to establish sexual tension, their strong desire to sleep together, or refraining from satisfying her desire has no meaning.
In the sequel, called, “April’s Kiss in the Moonlight”, we also establish sexual tension:

“What did you study in Paris, Farm Boy?” She asked, moving close to the shed.

“I studied French language, culture, and…”he said as he got in front of her, forcing her back against the wall of the shed.

He put a hand on either side of her head, against the shed wall and moved right up against her his chest lightly touching hers but close enough for her to feel heat coming from him.

“…and…how to make love to a woman,” he whispered in her ear, “would you like me to show you?”
His breath was warm on her neck, his lips a fraction of an inch from her skin. Her pulse quickened and her breathing became shallow. He lowered his lips to barely brush her skin starting with the place where her pulse was beating wildly and skimming down slowly to her shoulder and back up again. She closed her eyes for a moment, then put her hands against this hard chest and pushed him away.

“I believe you,” she gasped, moving away quickly, trying to regain control.

It doesn’t go further because she is engaged to another man. After our heroine, April breaks her engagement, sexual tension with Gavin builds in another short love scene:

“Her hands slid up his arms to his shoulders as he pulled her closer. The scent of pine soap mixed with a hint of smoke greeted her nostrils as she buried her burning face in his shoulder. He held her silently for several minutes until she regained her composure. When she stepped back and looked up at him, he lowered his lips to hers in a sweet kiss. She knew she shouldn’t let him kiss her but felt powerless to stop him. Desire rose in her chest and when she didn’t resist, he deepened the kiss and crushed her against him.”

This scene was broken up by the appearance of Aunt Laura, enough to cool anyone’s ardor! We’re only on page 21 and our hero and heroine have already expressed their passion for each other more than once. The plot must now keep them coming together but moving away from each other as well.
April must make up her mind what she will do at the end of the summer. We think we know where she is headed, but our hero, Gavin, is not so sure. This love scene in the summer rain on the roof of the firehouse is steamy:

“The wetter they got, the more passionate their kiss. Gavin took her face in his hands as he probed her mouth with his tongue. April stepped closer to him and wound her arms around his neck, losing her hands in his wet hair. His arms lowered to her waist and held her so close to him, their shirts joined by wetness as if it were raining glue, a piece of paper wouldn’t fit between them. As his tongue teased hers, she felt herself melting into his kiss, her body soft against his. His hand crept up, closing on her breast. A soft moan escaped from her mouth as desire shot through her body. 

            He came to his senses first and backed away from her, feeling a rush of cold air as their drenched shirts pulled apart. April stood there, her breathing ragged, staring at him, covering her chest with her arms.  He raised his hand to her face and traced two raindrops down her cheek with his forefinger before speaking.

            “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that…I forgot you belong to somebody else,” he said.”

            Again we pull them apart as Gavin will not move in on a woman who belongs to another man. I find it necessary to have an “organic” reason, one that makes sense with the plot, is consistent, rather than relying on a decision to remain apart based solely on moral grounds. I’m a stickler for logic.
Reviewers say my sweet romance is “spicy”. I believe it gives the reader the tang of sexual tension without the fulfillment, which is what I believe sweet romance readers want. I hope to be able to continue to write both sweet and sensual romance. I will write more sweet romance if I can continue to find believable ways to keep my hero and heroine wanting each other but remaining just out of reach.

Do you have someone in your past you would like to reconnect with? Caroline Davis White wasn't looking for Mickey, now Mike Foster, her childhood crush, she was fleeing her philandering husband, seeking peace and quiet, time to reflect on changing her life. But there was Mike, saving her from a mishap...again, bigger than life and even more handsome. 

A well-known artist, Sunny thought she could escape, disappear back to the cabin where she spent her summers as a child. But she was wrong. Her husband refused to let her go. There hadn't been a divorce in Brad White's family...ever! And he wasn't about to start breaking the tradition now.  Could Caroline shake him loose and what about Mike? Where did he fit into her life?


barnes & noble -

Saturday, 21 May 2011

Six Sentence Sunday: From "Falling Star"

Here's another taste of "Falling Star"! Enjoy...

Setup: Schy is trying to convince Willa to agree to a menage with Keenan, but she has some inner issues with it.

Schy tightened his grip. “Like hell you need to think, Willa. You are thinking this whole situation to death. You just need to close your eyes and feel.” He moved his hand up underneath her T-shirt and cupped her breast. He pinched her nipple, teasing it until it was an aching stiff peak, begging to feel his mouth.

I hope to have it finished and submitted soon (barring any interruptions the next few days I should get it done). Don't forget to check out the story where it all began. You can find "Shooting Stars" at Dreams N Fantasies and Wicked Ink Press.

Have a wonderful week!

Until we meet again...where passion breathes...

Return to Six Sentence Sunday!

Friday, 20 May 2011

Guest Blog: Cassandre Dayne

Cassandre Dayne
     We’ve all had a crush on someone at least once in our lives. You know that kinky crush on a man or a woman that makes you sizzle with hunger and your pussy clench with need? Perhaps a new bank teller was hired or maybe the construction worker that handles odd jobs around your house is particularly tasty and all brawny and gorgeous without a shirt, his bronze skin shimmering in the afternoon glow of the sun. I know you must be envisioning his carved muscles and long legs that fit oh so well into a tight pair of jeans. Is he the kind of stud that gives you wicked fantasies every night that leave you breathless and desperate to have a sip of his fine wine? Did he leave you in such need that you pulled out one of your randy little vibrators to use at night? I know I’m getting all hot and bothered thinking about the maintenance man that works in my building. At six foot five and all tall, chocolate and muscular – he makes me swoon every day and…Breakfast Eye Candy is all about him and the fantasy I have about a sweltering elevator in an older building and one tiny key…
     Well…I’ve certainly felt that way more than once or twice and believe it or not, many of the characters I have in my stories are based on some particular hotties that I know or passing. Whether you’re a man or woman, you’re going to look and lust for a beautiful creature. That’s human nature and it has nothing to do with whether we’re happily married or in a fantastic relationship. Beauty and sensuality is beguiling and the what if’s are even better.
     I’ve talked about the thought of dangerous men or entering into what some might consider a wicked relationship that could wind up burning you, but doesn’t the thought of being with someone new, someone that is not your type necessarily exciting as hell? How far have you gone to entice a stranger or acquaintance? Have you told him about your desires or allowed yourself to worry about what he might think? Now I know, you ask…what can I really do?
    You can jump in with both feet. Now…if you’re attached, that’s a different story, but if you’re not and you know that hot maintenance man or your UPS guy is single and just the one for you, ladies – why not ask him out? Why not go outside of our comfort zone? What do you really have to lose? My guess is that he’ll be honored and floored. Dating is difficult at best and if you are shy, it’s going to be tougher. Strike up a conversation on Facebook or join a reading group – but you have to say something…don’t you?
     I thought I would take you back to where my naughty writing career began. I have this particular hot UPS man the yes…delivers all kinds of packages to my house including those in plan brown wrapping. He’s tall and also chocolate in variety and the nicest guy you would ever meet. So I had a little fantasy about him one night and Treats in a Plain Brown Wrapper was born. See what you think… Careful – VERY “X” rated.

     Oh yeah, Trista Rogers, world famous (at least in her mind) erotic writer had it bad for the stunning UPS man. The sound of the rumbling truck entering her cul-de-sac brought her out of fantasyland. “Oh my, there he is.” She checked her slinky attire and smiled. The tight black skirt and soft fiery red cashmere sweater that showed just the swell of her ample breasts was the perfect sizzling outfit to tempt Al. Yep, she looked hot. At least she appeared ready for him anyway. She set her wine down in the kitchen, glided to the door in her four-inch heels and waited until she heard his boots land with a solid thud on her front deck.
     She threw open the door and pretended to be surprised. “Oh Al, sorry. I was just coming to check the mail.” Not that she didn’t meet him at the door in such a sly way every once in a while, but on this particular day, Trista decided finally to kick up the heat with her attire. She fought a giggle.
     Oh. He noticed.
     The look on his face held shock, desire and something else entirely. Al Weatherby stood speechless. His mouth gaping open, he glanced down the length of her and a tiny bubble formed between his lips. As he blinked furiously, the box tumbled out of his hand bouncing onto the deck. Pop! He choked, sputtered and jerked the small bundle to his chest. “Sorry.”
     Trista felt like a juicy steak nestled on a silver platter. Her gaze fell to the bulge in his pants. She could easily tell his cock was pulsing against the thin material. There was no doubt he was burning hot and turned on as hell. She resisted the urge to reach out and slide her hand down his chest to cup his crotch. “Al, you okay?”
     She smiled slyly and put her hand onto her hip. “How are you doing today, Al? Would you like to come in for a cold drink?” Or a wild little tryst between the sheets? Oh, down girl! Whew baby! Okay, so mixing business with pleasure was dangerous, but what the hell, she was a kinky girl, right? And she had waited far too long for this man. How many times had she thought about asking him out? Scaredy cat! Enough was enough. Trista wasn’t sure if he was dating anyone, but she had to try something, perhaps delicious decadent behavior.
     Al shivered. “Um...that would be thoughtful. Whew, long day.”
     “Come on in. Glad to be of service. I’m having a glass of wine. I know you’re still on duty but how about a cock...a Coke?” She stifled a giggle at her faux pas and grabbed a frosty can out of the fridge. “Glass?”
     “Not necessary.” As he grabbed the slickened can, Al shifted his eyes slowly down from her face to the point that they just hovered over her breasts. Glancing up, he licked his lips and took a long sip, keeping his eyes locked on hers. “Oh, here’s your package. Unfortunately it’s only part of the order.” He set the brown parcel down on the large island.
     She felt the sizzle of his gaze in direct correlation to her now dripping pussy. Oh boy, her panties were already soaked and she was only sharing a drink. “Oh pooh. Well, I guess you’ll be coming...back I mean.” Was she coming on to him? If her pointed nipples were any indication, she knew the answer and hell, so would he.
     He swallowed hard, coughing violently. His fingers bent the can and Coke spewed and he tried to catch the drops with the back of his hand. “So, um Trista? I never asked you, what do you do?”
     “I’m a writer.”
     “Excellent, what do you write?”
     “Oh, I write...saucy little stories mostly for women.” Every time she told a male that she wrote erotic stories, they instantly hit on her thinking she could perform all the acts she wrote about. Granted, as she stood staring at Al’s handsome face and the way his chiseled high cheekbones accentuated his full ruby lips, she had a feeling she could be sweet talked into doing every one of the wild fantasies she wrote about with him. “Yeah, you bring me tools of my trade that I order for research.” Tools of the trade? He brought her kinky little sex toys to use on a cold lonely night and couldn’t wait to see his reaction. Would that give her an indication that he was as wild and wicked as she was?
     “Oh, that’s fascinating.” His face flushed, but he managed to smile and take another sip. “I’m sure that keeps you, overworked!” He took another long gulp of the soda in his hand and this time experienced a full-fledged choke.
     Overheated, huh? She knew he was in a state of arousal. Oh yeah. There was no mistaking his dick throbbing in those oh-so-skin-tight brown pants of his. Trista licked her lips wanting to explore his yummy, thick chocolate stick. Deciding there was no time like the present, she threw all caution to the wind and opened her mouth. “So Al, are you married or could a girl ask you out on a date or perhaps much more? Maybe a little sizzling afternoon nookie?”
     The remnants of the Coke flew out of his mouth and all over her sweater. Beads of perspiration tricked down his cheeks. “I...uh...oh shit sorry!” He jumped into action, slamming the can down on the counter and grabbing her kitchen towel. With frantic hands, he began to rub her chest, gliding over each breast, gathering the remnants of the almost non-existent soft drink.    
     Trista purred. The closeness they shared sent the electricity humming around them into overdrive. She knew that he was about to do something irrational, totally sinful and she pushed. “Al? May I tell you that you are one hot and sexy hunk of a man?”
     He stopped in mid action and slowly lifted his eyes.
     “I’m serious.” Trista cooed.
     Al growled slightly and dropped the towel but continued touching her. Caressing her. He grazed his hand over her fully erect nipple, cupping her breast and kneading her through the soft folds of the racy sweater. “Did anyone ever tell you that you are stunning?”
     “Tell me.” Trista moaned quietly as she fought to get the crystal to the counter before she crushed it between her fingers. The maneuver successfully completed, she stared into his lust filled eyes. Was this really going to happen? Oh my God above, please let this happen. She hadn’t had a man in well over a year. And somehow, the memory of her last encounter left her wishing she pitched for the other team. She nibbled on her bottom lip and parted her legs as far as her tight skirt would allow. She knew he could get into so much trouble with his naughty actions based on what she had read about the UPS code of ethics, but she egged him on with her soft whimper anyway.
     “Dear God woman, you are so damn sexy. I have wanted you for so long.” He jerked her body to his, crushing her lips, his tongue pressing inside.
     She reveled in the sultry taste of her wine and a hint of his cinnamon candy as his tongue ravaged her mouth. She fit perfectly into his arms and as the kiss took on a life of its own, she melted into him.
    As he ground his throbbing cock into the heat of her belly, he nipped her lower lip while his hands massaged and caressed her back. He broke the heated moment only long enough to whisper hoarsely. “Beautiful woman.”
And available at Amazon Kindle, Book Strand, Coffee Time Romance & Barnes & Noble
  Thank you, Cassandre, for stopping by Scorched Sheets. I definitely enjoyed reading your post. ;)

Wednesday, 18 May 2011

Scorching Excerpt from Rockstar

by Em Petrova

Sig’s feet cut divots into the sand as he came to her. “Baby. Come here.” He drew her into his arms then, and her world tilted sharply on its axis, pulling away from sanity and reality into a realm of superstars and this delicious man. The man who had invited her, of all people, to share his time off in Maldives.

He took her hand and led her out of the trees. “Wait,” he said, turning back. “Are you wearing sunscreen?”

“Yes. I slathered it on before I left the plane. I burn quickly, despite my dark hair and eyes. The tube is in my bag. Do you have some with you?”

“Yes. I thought of it on the way out of the house. Come and sit and talk to me, loabi.” 

“What is that?”

“An endearment in Dhivehi, the native language to Maldives. Tell me about you. What have you done since we met?”

Waves of heat swelled from the sand, and he chose a ring of shade near the base of a tree, but with a clear view of the water. The aquamarine ocean lapped the edges of the sand. Sea birds wheeled over the water, and schools of fish flitted beneath the surface, visible in the crystal-clear water for a long distance.

Magnolia sank to the sand, taking care to pin the hem of her dress beneath her hips. She cocked her head and for long moments, her gaze ran over his face, his hair, down his chest to the hardening bulge in his shorts.

Sig’s smile spread as slow as honey. “What?”

Her teeth sank into her lower lip, and then released it. “It’s like a dream.”

He reached for an errant curl that fell into her eye. The coil slipped through his palm. He brought it to his nose, inhaled, and let it slide over his lips.

A hungry groan burst from him, setting her ablaze with the memories of him making that sound. He crushed her curls in his fists, and then her tongue was against his.

In one swift movement, she was under him. A puff of laughter burst from her lips and rumbled through his chest as he claimed her mouth. She opened wide to accept his tongue, pressing hers against his, withdrawing, swirling in a mating dance.

She made a small noise of wanting in her throat. He moaned and deepened the kiss. His tongue met hers stroke for stroke, igniting a fire that couldn’t be doused. His hand knotted in her hair as the other slipped over the hollow of her belly.

She arched her back, and her full breast filled his palm. The juicy peak hardened, and they shared a groan as his thumb circled it.

“Sig. Sig. I’ve wanted this for weeks.”

He tore his mouth away to stare into her eyes. “Weeks?”

“Shut up and kiss me.” She clasped his shirt and brought him back to her mouth.

He smiled against her lips, and she felt the soft brush of his teeth against hers. “I like an eager woman.”

“What woman isn’t eager with you?”

She imagined that to most women, a night with him was a status symbol. A leg-up in the industry or a way to give themselves importance. They didn‟t see past the flashbulbs of the photographers or the costumes he wore onstage. But she saw only the amazing man hovering over her.
Sig sank his tongue deep into her mouth and his hips mirrored the action, pressing her down into the sand. His cock swelled, stretching the fabric of his shorts.

He captured her hands and pinned them to her sides. Grains of sand worked between their fingers, gritty in sharp contrast to her skin. In little nipping bites, he tasted the point of her chin, the tender underside of her jaw, and the pulse of her throat. There he found the dew caused by the tropical heat, and he lapped it away.

His hair spilled over her round breasts as he nuzzled them. Through the thin cotton of her dress, he drew the tip of one breast into his mouth. He forced moist, hot air through the fibers, and she cried out.

“God, Sig. You’re good. So good. Don’t stop.”

His heated attentions flowed through her body, melting the crust of ice she‟d created around her heart. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to wrap her lips around his throbbing rod and pleasure him.

He released her hands and stroked the undersides of her arms, slowly. Gooseflesh rose in his wake, down, down, over her wrists where her pulse throbbed, to her damp palms. Palm to palm, to the ends of her fingers.

Magnolia’s back arched off the sand and he slipped his hands into the space, bringing her breasts against his mouth. He nudged aside the cloth and edged his tongue beneath the satin of her bra.

Deftly, he pinched the clasp of her bra and sprung it. She moaned as the constricting band loosened. He ran his hands down the curve of her spine, to her ass. He kneaded the round globes for the barest of moments before sliding her panties off. Next he lifted the hem of her dress and drew it upwards.

“I’ve got to see you beneath the Indian sun. Golden and glistening with sweat,” he rasped, and tossed her dress away. It floated to the sand in a crumpled whisper. He peeled away her nude satin bra. Her breasts popped free, the nipples straining for his touch.

He dropped his mouth to one, worshipped the tip with his tongue. It puckered, and he sucked it for a long time before turning to the other.

Magnolia’s breaths came in small squeaking moans as he ravished her. Her nails scraped his shoulders lightly, and she couldn’t wait to sink them deep into his muscles, as she had when he entered her before.

“I’m going on a kissing journey,” he said, pressing a kiss to the cramped space between the mounds of her breasts. “Here.” He delivered a wet kiss to the V of her ribs. “And here.” The dip of her belly. “Can’t let this go untouched.” His tongue swirled about her outy bellybutton. She sucked in a sharp breath. “And this is the destination.”

He plunged his tongue into her moist dark curls, moaning at the flavor of her musk. The slippery nub pulsed against his lips, and she gripped his head and lifted her hips to his mouth.

“Oh, God, Sig. Don’t stop. More, more, more.”

He prodded her honey hole with the tip of his tongue. Juices flooded her slippery folds. Slowly, he worked upward in small brushing strokes, until he found her core. She stopped breathing as he lapped at her love nub. Each stroke brought her hips off the sand.

“Sig. Sig, I need you.”

He ignored her and sucked her clit into his mouth, raising a scream from her. The sound of her pleasure mixed with the low babble of water and the rush of breeze. Sig slid one finger into her tight sheath.

The walls of her pussy pulsed. He added a finger to his first, and drove them gently upward, pressing against the inner wall where her g-spot was located. Pressing. Releasing. Until she felt the first tremors take her. Her slit tightened beneath his mouth, and he held her hip with one hand to keep her against him as waves of ecstasy shook her. He increased his speed on her clit, driving her higher.

Her fists twisted in his shoulder-length hair, and her love cream flooded his tongue. His fingers worked more slowly, his kisses tender and open-mouthed on her soaking sex.

“Please. I need you.”

He lifted his head. Their eyes clashed louder than a fifteen foot wave on the shore during a storm. His expression would live forever in her memory, even after this affair ended. And it had to end. It was too good. Nothing this good could last. Not for Magnolia.

He surged upward to capture her mouth. Untamed emotion warred through her. Her hands worked the front of his shorts and she ripped off his shirt. In seconds, he was nude, a condom rolled into place, poised, and she was going fucking nuts with the need to feel him inside her.
But first, she had to know. “Why did you bring me here, Sig?”

“After that night in my dressing room, I couldn’t stop dreaming about this, Magnolia. I woke from one dream still pulsing with orgasm. I haven’t done that since I was fifteen. Now look into my eyes while I take you, Magnolia. Don’t look away from me. Not once.”

In one thrust, he sank to the root. His rock-hard erection was sweet torture. He held still, making love to her gaze, amazingly in control. Her lips were still damp from his kisses, swollen and deliciously bruised.

Her heel hitched around his hip, and he started to move. Slow, deep, long thrusts that drew gasps from them. Faster, her core on fire, the head of his cock bumping her womb with each movement. Her world narrowed. The rush of the sea faded, and she was deaf to everything but the blood in her ears. The sun dimmed, and only Sig Locke remained lit.

I hope you enjoyed a little taste of Rock/Star-Adventure Two of FORBIDDEN
Em Petrova

Thank you very much, Em, for stopping by. I look forward to having you on Scorched Sheets again!

Sunday, 15 May 2011

Six Sentence Sunday: Sneak Peek from "Falling Star"

Okay, I know I missed the sign up for getting on the official list for Six Sentence Sunday, but I'm going to post it anyway. I'll make sure to get signed up early next week. :)

As promised last week here's a small taste from the sequel to "Shooting Stars".

The set up is, Willa has just accused Kee and Schy of treating her as a possession. This is Kee's response to her accusation.

From "Falling Star"--

She tried to pull free of his hold, but only succeeded in making him tighten it.

“That is so not how either of us sees you,” he said, his voice thick and husky as though he was trying to hold back what he was feeling, but not quite succeeding.

“Really? Then tell me how it is that you see me.”

“We see a woman who’s intelligent, vibrant, commanding, and sexy as hell. And we both just want the chance to hold onto you if even for just a moment.”

I hope you enjoyed this weeks six. You can find "Shooting Stars" at Dreams N Fantasies, Wicked Ink Press and D'Ink Well. I hope to be finishing "Falling Star" in the next few days. I'll keep you posted on any updates regarding it. Have a great week.

Until we meet again...


Tuesday, 10 May 2011

Tempest Tuesday

Alright, my lovelies!

Time to test out another new concept. Tempest Tuesday will highlight the tempest that can both surround and consume the love interest in a romance. Whether it's sweet to the hottest of erotic romances, at the heart of them all are those two elements that throw those characters we love together and also threaten to rip them apart.

I'll occasionally feature something from a current work in progress, but for today I'm going to write on the fly. The first true meeting of some characters from a story that hasn't been written yet since this scene jumped to the forefront of my mind when I was considering what to use. It's the story of Chester Bloomfield and Deirdre Easton (no title yet). They are secondary characters  in the planned sixth book of my Rift Hunter Series. Their story will actually be the first in a spinoff series featuring the Fae.

Deirdre stood off to the side partially hidden between the foilage, watching Cass and Leo dance around the moonlit garden surrounded by millions of roses that perfumed the air. God, what she'd give to have someone look at her the way Leo gazed at her sister. She almost snorted out loud at the thought.

Never going to happen, De! The little voice in her head said. No man alive wants a woman who's short and on the chunky side to boot. 

She quickly silenced the damn voice with a well placed mental slap. She knew she wasn't pretty by most people's standards. Had even accepted it. But, seeing her baby sister find love with that blond Greek god of a man brought to the forefront of her mind all the faults the men she'd dated had pointed out over the years.

She felt a tear slide down her cheek. She swiped it away and deciding to leave before she brought the rest of the party down with her melancholy mood. She turned and had only taken two steps when she ran into a solid and extremely masculine chest. The scent of jasmine, sandalwood and something else roiled off him in waves, that should have been overpowering, but somehow it didn't. Instead it made her think of satin sheets, starlight and his naked flesh rubbing deliciously against hers.

"Where are you rushing off to, Deirdre? You know how upset Cassandra will be if you just disappear without saying good-bye."

The voice seemed to float on the air around her like the sound of tinkling bells that had been Tinkerbell's voice but deeper, more rich and melodic. Not high pitched and grating like she'd always considered Tinkerbell's. This one was dark and erotic and it sent shivers dancing across her skin. "I'm sure she'll..."

Whoever it was reached up and brushed away a tear from her cheek with his thumb. She strained to see through the darkness, wanting to find out if he was as sexy as his voice made him sound. But, all she could see was his shadow as he brought his finger to his lips and licked the tear away.

"Mmmm....I you taste as decadent as your sorrow?"

Deirdre opened her mouth to reply, but her voice seemed to have fled. Which was odd since she normally had a retort for everything. It was her defense mechanism. All she could think about...wish for was that he would want to find out.

"What no sassy riposte?" He made a tsking sound. "I'm disappointed, fenyw. And here the only reason I agreed to be Leo's best man was because I knew I'd get to engage you in a spirited exchange again."

She started to ask who the hell he was to talk to her that way when his words sunk in. Leo's best man. Engage you in a spirited exchange? There was only one person she'd argued with that had ever called it that. 

Chester Bloomfield.

Tall, dark, lithe and graceful. If you could call a man graceful, it would he him. No matter what he was doing. Running to do Leo's bidding for The Colosseum, chasing after and fighting the bad guys, or dancing...the man knew how to move his body and he looked damn good doing it.  There was also something else about him that she couldn't put her finger on. It almost reminded her of the powers Cass and Leo were able to control, but more ethereal...more ancient.

He also annoyed the hell out of her with his constant baiting. Ever since the day they'd crossed paths for the first time, they'd been circling each other warily. Like two caged animals trying to wait out the other. 

"Leave me alone, Bloomfield. I'm not in the mood for this tonight. I just want to go home and crawl into my bed. It's been a long day." She started to shove her way past him, but his arm snaked out at the last second and she found herself being spun around so that her backside came up flush with his front. She went still, images of the dream she'd had the night before flashing in her mind.

Images of him bending her over a bed, a table...really didn't matter and possessing her from behind. 

She shook her head. There was no way she was going to go down that road. He was too beautiful to be interested in her. Even as the thought crept into her mind she felt him nuzzling her neck, pushing the thick tangle of red-gold curls over the opposite shoulder. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She silently cursed when she  heard the breathless tone of her voice.

He nibbled the sensitive flesh, his lips inching ever closer to her ear. He bit into her earlobe harder.

A burst of intense pain shot through her, only to be replaced with a searing heat the next instant when he suckled it. 

"Isn't it obvious, fenyw?" He chuckled softly in her ear. "I'm seducing you."

Hope you enjoyed this tempting treat! Next week I hope to have a snippet from "Falling Star" for you!

Have a great week!

Drannoeth Da...


PS...Fenyw is woman in Welsh and Drannoeth Da means good morrow. I translated both on Google Translate.

Saturday, 7 May 2011

Six Sentence Sunday

Happy Mother's Day!

I want to give a shout out to all the mother's for everything they do for their families. We often put ourselves last on every list. It doesn't go unnoticed. Have a great day! Hug your kids for they grow up faster than you expect!

Here's another tempting taste of "Shooting Stars"....

She watched as the men made eye contact. Some unspoken communication passed between them and she felt another finger slide over her back in a sensual caress. 

She looked up at Schy. She was about to ask the question burning in her mind, but was stalled when he spoke.
"Come on, sweetheart. Another star awaits." 

If you'd like to read more of "Shooting Stars" you can find it at Dreams N Fantasies and Wicked Ink Press. Be sure to check back next week as I've decided to take my Six from the sequel "Falling Star". Until then here's the link back to Six Sentence Sunday. Hope you all have a wonderful week!

Much Aloha,