Monday, September 30, 2013

More than a wolf...

As a writer of romance, I live in a fantasy world. Each day brings a world where dreams happen through my hero and heroine. This idea scares a lot of people...actually, the word fantasy scares many people. I've always wondered why. It's a beautiful word and opens the door to ideas and joy and happiness. When I was a kid I read book after book after book. Like a sponge I absorbed every romantic detail, every fantasy, every story line. What young girl didn't open the crisp pages of a romance novel and dive in and return with our own dreams of the future? Each day we should step outside of our comfort zone, breathe in danger and feel the thrill of adrenaline. Sometimes our first step is through a romance novel.

In Wicked Pleasures, I stepped outside of the box, or my comfort zone. I'd never written about wolves and this was all new. I loved it so much, I tuned it into a sequel...Wicked Wolves, and I'm currently on the second book, Wicked Lust.

Buy link: http://www.amazon.com/Wicked-Pleasures-Wolves-ebook/dp/B00F1JX2X2/ref=pd_rhf_se_p_imgnr_4

Blurb:
He’s her captor, but the passion he ignites within her is beyond anything she’s ever imagined…

When Bronte Sheridan is kidnapped and taken to an isolated house in the Colorado woods, she is determined to free herself from the wolf, Roark, who claims he is protecting her. As the story unfolds, Bronte is stunned to learn there is truth to his story. And even more shocked to discover the explosive sexual chemistry between them.

Roark needs Bronte for more than sex. She holds the key to saving his family. But what happens when she discovers the true nature of the evil spell that has loomed over the pack for a century? Human and wolf aren’t meant to mix, but the hot sex factor is off-the-charts. Can either of them walk away from the magnetism, and history, that draws them together? Can Bronte ever truly love a half-wolf?


Excerpt:

BRONTE SNUGGLED DEEPER into the nest of pleasing warmth. She’d never felt such comfort.  Stretching her muscles, she sighed languidly as a rush of indulgence whirled through her. The nightmare of being held hostage by an arrogant ass couldn’t even fade the glorious feeling.  No other time had she slept all night.
Rolling over, her face pressed against something iron hard. Inhaling deeply, she froze. Her heart skipped a beat. The smell was familiar—woodsy mixed with mint. And who the hell was breathing in her ear?
Sliding one eye open, she jerked. Shit! She darted across the bed, pulling the red satin sheet with her. The kidnapping wasn’t a dream. The arrogant ass was here, in bed, with her! Worse, she was in his bed and he was sleeping soundly. Damn! He was naked!
She raked her gaze downward, soaking up every inch of his nudity.
Hell, she didn’t want to look at him, but for the life of her, she couldn’t help herself.  Admiring his physique broke some unwritten rule about captive not ogling her captor, but if he wasn’t aware, maybe it wasn’t so wrong. He was the description of perfect male, making her self-conscious of her own less-than-perfect body. From his broad shoulders, over massive chest, narrow waist, and—she jerked her glance away. Oh hell! He was hard and a size that matched every other large part of him.  It was so wrong that such a jerk had a body of Adonis.
“Forget the body,” she whispered. She wondered how he’d gotten naked. She lifted the sheet. And how the hell did I get naked?
She was going to be sick. Stomach twirling, she squeezed the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb. She couldn’t remember anything after he’d pulled out needle and thread and—
Biting back a moan, she held up her bandaged hand. With haste she’d never known, she tore off the white gauzy material. Shit! Shit! Her heart beat faster. She stared at her wounded hand neatly stitched and covered in clear salve. Looking over at the sleeping man, her mind fabricated ways she could teach him a lesson on boundaries, and so proudly flaunting his goods. Her eyes naturally fell to his long cock. She should follow through with a few of her own evil ideas.  Wonder how he’d like a few stitches in his tool?
No use. She was a wimp. At the mere sight of blood she’d probably pass out, and ending up unconscious was the last thing she wanted.
A horrible notion flashed through her mind. Was it possible they had sex? If she was out while he stitched her wound, anything could have happened. She reached down and touched her inner thighs. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, no swelling or sensitivity, and with a cock his size, she’d have physical evidence.
Some tension left her muscles. Although he didn’t violate her, would he next time?
How had he knocked her out? Had he hypnotized her?
There was no time to stick around and debate her questions. She knew this could be her one and only chance to get the hell away.
Bronte gave the sleeping figure one more glance. He still slept. His breathing was heavy and his chest rose and fell evenly. As quietly as possible, she slid to the edge of the bed, eased her legs over the side and placed her feet onto the cool floor.  She stood and wrapped the sheet around her body as she scanned the room for her clothes. They were gone. She guessed Roark had hid them from her, thinking she wouldn’t escape without clothes. Dressed or not, she’d get out of this place. Nudity was nothing compared to spending more time in Roark’s loony bin.
With a quick glimpse over her shoulder to make sure he was still asleep, Bronte started across the room toward the door. She took each tiptoed step with great care, but every breath and every time her foot pressed against the wood, it sounded like an explosion in her ears. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. Her heart fluttered at the possibility of freedom. Reaching the exit, she placed her palm on the knob, twisted and her hope dropped. Nothing happened. It was locked. The bastard! Maybe she could stand the sight of blood, just this once, if it meant getting revenge. She turned on heel and ran into a wall of flesh and muscle. Bringing her gaze up into an expression of pure wickedness, she gulped loudly.
“You didn’t think I’d allow you to walk out of here, did you?” His voice was husky from sleep. He yawned and wiped his eyes.
His laid-back attitude made her want to rip his eyes out. And having him stand there naked and proud, made her fury multiply. How dare he be so smug! “You can’t keep me here forever.”
 “How long you stay is completely up to you, sweetheart. You’re in control more than you think.”
She slanted her eyes, wishing she could shoot daggers into his head. “I’ll never have your child. You said you have plenty of willing women so why not find someone who is eager to have your baby?”
The corner of his lips curved downward. “I also told you that I didn’t pick you.”
Holding the sheet over her with one hand, she used the other to rub her aching temple. It wasn’t possible to have a conversation with someone who was in serious need of mental help.  “Okay, you’ve told me that. You didn’t pick me.” It was no use. “Where are my clothes? I am allowed to wear something, right?” He lowered his eyes over her sheet-covered body and every part of her quivered, in a very bad, but good, way. She tugged the satin material tighter as if it was a shield from his view. He brought his gaze back to hers and his twinkling eyes offended her, yet excited her. She’d need to see a therapist after this.
He laughed. How could he think this was humorous?
“Of course clothes are permitted. That is until you decide you want to frolic naked. It’s such a feeling of freedom, not to mention, without all of that material in the way it’s much easier to gain access to the lovely parts.”
Her face flamed with heat. She wanted to tell him just what she thought, but knew he’d give her some egotistical response. For now, she needed to get dressed. “Clothes? Where are they? White top, black pants.”
       “You can’t wear those.” He turned his back to her and went to the wardrobe. “I’ve already thrown them out.”
“Thrown them out? Why?” Bronte wanted to scream.  She watched him take out clothes from the cabinet, thinking he was going to give her something to wear, but instead he shook out a pair of dark denims and started to put them on. Her eyeballs itched to watch his tight backside, but she refused herself the pleasure. Nope, she wouldn’t do it. But as the jeans moved upward, her gaze went downward. She swore the man was a devil with power. And to top it off, his sex was hard…again. Did it ever deflate? She wondered how he’d fit himself inside the pants?
He turned and she made sure her stare was on his face. “They were spotted with blood.”
“Huh?” Her mind was confused.
“Your clothes. That’s what we were talking about.”
“And whose fault is it that they were bloody?” She huffed.
“Relax, Bronte. That color of pale doesn’t work for you,” he said as he passed her to the door. With his back to her, she wondered if she had time to find something to crack him over the head. She scanned the room until his voice snapped her into reality. “Tsk, tsk. Such brutal thoughts for a wisp of a woman. I’m not sure you could reach high enough. I liked you admiring my body much better.”
She opened her mouth to blast him with a four-letter word when her mind wrapped around the fact that he’d just read her thoughts. Every hair on her body stood erect. It wasn’t the first time he seemed to know what she was thinking.
He looked at her over his shoulder. “Do you think you can behave outside of the confines of this room? I’d hate to tie your wrists again. Touching you is much more tempting when you’re bound and pissed off.” He wriggled his brows.
“You’re unbelievable,” she snarled.
“Unbelievable is not the right word, sweetheart. I haven’t lied to you once to earn that label.” He smirked. “Now, answer the question or I’ll leave you in here until you lose some of that ladylike charm.”
“I deserve answers to my questions as well.” Her strength was weakening. Her hope of getting away was fading. This man had her right where he wanted her, but she refused to give up. Maybe he’d come to his senses.
His jaw loosened and his features softened. “You’re right. In time, you’ll get the answers you want. For now, let’s go to your room. Your new clothes are in there.”
My room?” The words spilled out like a bitter morsel of veracity. She had a room. He planned to keep her. The madness grew deeper.

He reached above the frame of the door and grabbed the key. She bit her bottom lip. So that was his hiding place. He opened the thick wooden door and stepped back, motioning for her to lead the way into the hall. “Remember what I said, fiery wench. Bounds and defiance are irresistible to me. I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment you cocked me in the jaw.”

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Cover Reveal Blitz


BI Badge 1.pngBadIdea-DamonSuede500px.png

Enchantress of Books Blog Tours.jpg.jpg


Book Blurb:
Some mistakes are worth making. 

Reclusive comic book artist Trip Spector spends his life doodling super-square, straitlaced superheroes, hiding from his fans, and crushing on his unattainable boss until he meets the dork of his dreams. Silas Goolsby is a rowdy FX makeup creator with a loveless love life and a secret streak of geek who yearns for unlikely rescues and a truly creative partnership.

Against their better judgment, they fall victim to chemistry, and what starts as infatuation quickly grows tender and terrifying. With Silas’s help, Trip gambles his heart and his art on a rotten plan: sketching out Scratch, a “very graphic novel” that will either make his name or wreck his career. But even a smash can't save their world if Trip retreats into his mild-mannered rut, leaving Silas to grapple with betrayal and emotions he can't escape. 

What will it take for this dynamic duo to discover that heroes never play it safe?

Release Date: October 21, 2013


FACEBOOK & TWITTER: 

@DamonSuede
#BadIdea
#CoverReveal


 Book Links

Author’s Bio:
Damon Suede grew up out-n-proud deep in the anus of right-wing America, and escaped as soon as it was legal. Though new to romance fiction, Damon has been writing for print, stage, and screen for two decades. He’s won some awards, but counts his blessings more often: his amazing friends, his demented family, his beautiful husband, his loyal fans, and his silly, stern, seductive Muse who keeps whispering in his ear, year after year. Get in touch with him at DamonSuede.com.

Author Links:





Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Strange Fetishes

It's amazing what a person will fantasize to get a sexual arousal. Comment and enter to win a free e-book copy of my newest release, Wicked Pleasures (Book 1 of Wicked Wolves Series).

Formicophilia

Like insects? Well, someone with this fetish enjoys having insects crawl all over their body, especially in the southern regions.

Plushophilia
If you have a person living in your home who has this fetish, I recommend hiding the stuffed animals. This person has an attraction to stuffed animals, and will use them during masturbation.

Vorarephilia
Uhh...not only would I NOT be attracted to this person, but I'd fear for my safety. This person get sexually aroused by imagining their body, or someone else's body, being eaten. This is "fantasy" only, but I'm afraid to even speculate...

Inflatophilia
This could range from sexual arousal from inflatable toys to bouncy houses...Yes, I believe we've heard it all folks. 

Burusera

Hint: Used panties. Need I say more?

Erotic lactation

Has a man ever wondered what a woman's breast milk tastes like? Probably so, but these men crave it while having sex.

Klismaphilia

Most people would run from the threat of an enema, but these folk find pleasure in it.

After reading these fetishes, you'll see that a human and a wolf mating isn't as strange as you first thought.


Wicked Pleasures, now available for everyone's viewing pleasure.


Buy link: 

http://www.amazon.com/Wicked-Pleasures-Wolves-ebook/dp/B00F1JX2X2/ref=sr_1_12?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1379514576&sr=1-12&keywords=rhonda+lee+carver

Blurb:
He’s her captor, but the passion he ignites within her is beyond anything she’s ever imagined…

When Bronte Sheridan is kidnapped and taken to an isolated house in the Colorado woods, she is determined to free herself from the wolf, Roark, who claims he is protecting her. As the story unfolds, Bronte is stunned to learn there is truth to his story. And even more shocked to discover the explosive sexual chemistry between them.

Roark needs Bronte for more than sex. She holds the key to saving his family. But what happens when she discovers the true nature of the evil spell that has loomed over the pack for a century? Human and wolf aren’t meant to mix, but the hot sex factor is off-the-charts. Can either of them walk away from the magnetism, and history, that draws them together? Can Bronte ever truly love a half-wolf?

Excerpt:



“Screw you.” Her lips trembled.
He stared down at her, the pain in his groin forgotten as the warmth of their bodies pressed together stirred other sensations. His sore cock twitched and attempted to rise. He almost found it embarrassing that she had that much control over his nether region.  
With each rapid breath she took, her firm breasts pushed against his chest, sending waves of longing through him. Her long hair was scattered across the floor and tendrils rested on her face. He blew the wisps away. He wouldn’t have been more stunned if someone had punched him in the stomach. Her eyes…they were an amazing deep green, just as he’d dreamt night after night. They reminded him of cat eyes, two glimmering mirrors that could see through a person and into their soul.
Taking a deep breath, he refused to let her shake him—not in his heart, his mind, or anywhere else. He had a slip up in his barrier, but he’d make sure he kept his walls up.
“Who are you and what do you want with me?”  Her voice was low and hoarse, her eyes narrowed.
Once he was certain that his voice worked, he said, “You should know, but your memory fails you.”
Confusion took the place of annoyance in her expression. “I’ve never met you. Tell me why I’m here? Why did those men bring me?” she said in between filling her lungs with air.
Bitter veracity rose in his chest.  “How sweet it must be to live each day without knowledge of the pain you’ve caused. And yet, I’m responsible for watching over you.”
“I have no clue what you’re saying. You must have the wrong person. Now let me go!” Mist appeared in her eyes.
“Not only do I have the right person, but it’s time for you to correct what you wronged.”
“You’re insane. You are out of touch with reality.” Her lips clenched.
“Insanity would be a welcome break from this life of torment,” he said.
“Do you want money? I don’t have a lot,” she said.
“Money is useless to me. You will give me a child.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth parted. “Are you crazy? You’d better let me go. My fiancé will have the entire city looking for me.” Her words came out in spurts. “If you don’t let me go, you’re going to regret it. I promise you.”
“Unfortunately, your fiancé isn’t expecting you. I’m sure he thinks you’re on a flight to paradise.”
“How did you know?” she asked.
“It’s taken months to see this through.” He shifted his hips to release the strain in his cock. The zipper in his pants didn’t stretch far enough.
“You…you jackass!” She tried pulling her hands away from his hold. “You can’t keep me against my will. How dare you!” 
His nostrils filled with her scent. “Stop fighting. We’re not strangers.”
“I’ve never seen you before in my life. You’re a lunatic!”
“But I know you.” He smiled. “You can refuse me all you want, sweetheart, but until you deliver me what I request, no one will see you again. The sooner you understand those words, the better for the both of us. I’m only heartless if the need arises.”
Her eyes glistened like emeralds. He thought she’d cry but she didn’t—he guessed she had too much pride. “I’d rather die than give in to whatever you’re asking,” she spat. Determination cocked her chin.  “You and your hooligans can go to hell!”
“Well—” Roark slid the tips of his finger along her jaw line and down the smooth curve of her throat. He stopped at her collarbone and splayed his palm over her chest. “—your wish came true long ago.” A tear slid from the corners of her eyes and moistened her pale skin.
“You’ll have to kill me,” she whispered.
“Too bad I need you alive.”
“Then go ahead! Do what you need to do. I’m not afraid of you!”
She lied—he knew she was frightened. He could smell her fear and it burned the back of his throat. He loosened his hold but remained on top of her. Why couldn’t this be easy? “Can we do this a way that’s constructive?  I’m telling you that you’ll be here for a while. Believe it or not, it’s by your spiteful hand that you’re here now. You could even say that I’m saving your life.”
“If it’s by my hand that I’m here, then I choose to leave.”
“Not a possibility, at least not until you give birth.”
“And that’s not a possibility,” she said through clenched teeth. “I’m not even pregnant!”


“First things first.” He lowered his gaze and saw that her hand was bleeding worse. “You’re soiling my expensive rug.” 

Friday, September 13, 2013

Sexy Excerpt

I woke up this morning feeling as if I'd been run over by a train. It's easy to know when a writer is truly sick--they can't write. Yup, that was me earlier. I forced myself to sit up straight in bed and clicked on the internet, thinking I needed to force some social network and coffee into my system. I ended up getting a whole list of promo done. I stop, and the headache returns. So keeping this short, I'm giving you an excerpt of my latest release, Wicked Pleasures. If you're into erotic paranormal...well, all I can say is...hang on to your seats.



http://www.amazon.com/Wicked-Pleasures-Wolves-ebook/dp/B00F1JX2X2/ref=pd_rhf_se_p_imgnr_1

Blurb:
He’s her captor, but the passion he ignites within her is beyond anything she’s ever imagined…

When Bronte Sheridan is kidnapped and taken to an isolated house in the Colorado woods, she is determined to free herself from the wolf, Roark, who claims he is protecting her. As the story unfolds, Bronte is stunned to learn there is truth to his story. And even more shocked to discover the explosive sexual chemistry between them.

Roark needs Bronte for more than sex. She holds the key to saving his family. But what happens when she discovers the true nature of the evil spell that has loomed over the pack for a century? Human and wolf aren’t meant to mix, but the hot sex factor is off-the-charts. Can either of them walk away from the magnetism, and history, that draws them together? Can Bronte ever truly love a half-wolf?

Excerpt:
Disappointment twisted its way through his chest. A lot rested on this strange woman sitting before him. He realized she had no clue of her power, and proving it to her would take time. His heritage couldn’t stop with him and he’d do almost anything to prevent that from happening. Others counted on him as their leader and letting them down wasn’t an option, even if that meant he’d suffer the consequences.
The silence became overbearing and he growled in irritation.
“I’ll remove the mask,” he whispered and waited for a response, but nothing came.
He moved in and slowly lifted the cover from her head as if he opened the door to a panther’s cage. A large mass of black curls rolled onto her shoulders and down her back. Her face lowered and the hair blanketed her features.  His fingers itched to touch the length and he started to reach to satisfy his need but caught himself. He moaned deep in his throat as he forced the desire away and replaced it with anger, which numbed any other feeling.  He’d gotten used to putting up walls of fury.
Frustration spiraled through him like barbed wire.  “Lift your head, woman.”
Nothing. He didn’t have the time for this. He grabbed her chin and lifted. 
She clamped her teeth down on his thumb and he jerked his arm back, causing her to release her grip. He looked down at the teeth marks and the blood oozing from his skin. “Good try, but I’ve been bitten harder by a flea.” He laughed. At least he’d gotten a reaction from her.
Caught up in the moment, he hadn’t expected her next move. She brought her knee up and planted it into his crotch. Humor fled as he fell to his knees, a sickening pain flooded him and bile rose into his throat. He coughed and sputtered as his vision blurred. “Why does every woman have to go for the balls?” he said through tight lips. He heard rustling and looked up as the woman darted from the chair.  “Fuck!”
Pushing past the throbbing ache between his legs, he reached out and grabbed her ankle, sending her falling face first onto the thick rug. While he had her foot trapped in his grasp, she brought the other up and kicked him hard on the chin. He heard something snap in his jaw but it was nothing compared to the misery he felt in his balls.
Grabbing the other leg, he held her as she squirmed like a fish on land.  “We can do this all night,” he said. “Do you really believe you can get away?”
“Let me go!” She continued to struggle against his grip.
Shaking his head, he waited until she finally quit moving, and then loosened his grip on both of her legs. “One thing I know, as feisty as you are, I’m much stronger, but I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Leave me alone!” Her scream resonated off the walls and pounded through his skull. She jerked and whipped around, attempting to free herself from him again. Her fist came up and connected with his nose and he squinted. He felt wetness and wiped his face across his shoulder, seeing a trace of crimson.
“That’s enough blood for one night!” He crawled on top of her, pinning her under his two- hundred-twenty pound frame, securing her wrists high above her head while his body constricted her movement. She still thrashed underneath him although it was unproductive. “Give up,” he whispered next to her ear.
“Screw you.” Her lips trembled.
He stared down at her, the pain in his groin forgotten as the warmth of their bodies pressed together stirred other sensations. His sore cock twitched and attempted to rise. He almost found it embarrassing that she had that much control over his nether region.  
With each rapid breath she took, her firm breasts pushed against his chest, sending waves of longing through him. Her long hair was scattered across the floor and tendrils rested on her face. He blew the wisps away. He wouldn’t have been more stunned if someone had punched him in the stomach. Her eyes…they were an amazing deep green, just as he’d dreamt night after night. They reminded him of cat eyes, two glimmering mirrors that could see through a person and into their soul.
Taking a deep breath, he refused to let her shake him—not in his heart, his mind, or anywhere else. He had a slip up in his barrier, but he’d make sure he kept his walls up.
“Who are you and what do you want with me?”  Her voice was low and hoarse, her eyes narrowed.
Once he was certain that his voice worked, he said, “You should know, but your memory fails you.”
Confusion took the place of annoyance in her expression. “I’ve never met you. Tell me why I’m here? Why did those men bring me?” she said in between filling her lungs with air.
Bitter veracity rose in his chest.  “How sweet it must be to live each day without knowledge of the pain you’ve caused. And yet, I’m responsible for watching over you.”
“I have no clue what you’re saying. You must have the wrong person. Now let me go!” Mist appeared in her eyes.
“Not only do I have the right person, but it’s time for you to correct what you wronged.”
“You’re insane. You are out of touch with reality.” Her lips clenched.
“Insanity would be a welcome break from this life of torment,” he said.
“Do you want money? I don’t have a lot,” she said.
“Money is useless to me. You will give me a child.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth parted. “Are you crazy? You’d better let me go. My fiancé will have the entire city looking for me.” Her words came out in spurts. “If you don’t let me go, you’re going to regret it. I promise you.”
“Unfortunately, your fiancé isn’t expecting you. I’m sure he thinks you’re on a flight to paradise.”
“How did you know?” she asked.
“It’s taken months to see this through.” He shifted his hips to release the strain in his cock. The zipper in his pants didn’t stretch far enough.
“You…you jackass!” She tried pulling her hands away from his hold. “You can’t keep me against my will. How dare you!” 
His nostrils filled with her scent. “Stop fighting. We’re not strangers.”
“I’ve never seen you before in my life. You’re a lunatic!”
“But I know you.” He smiled. “You can refuse me all you want, sweetheart, but until you deliver me what I request, no one will see you again. The sooner you understand those words, the better for the both of us. I’m only heartless if the need arises.”
Her eyes glistened like emeralds. He thought she’d cry but she didn’t—he guessed she had too much pride. “I’d rather die than give in to whatever you’re asking,” she spat. Determination cocked her chin.  “You and your hooligans can go to hell!”

“Well—” Roark slid the tips of his finger along her jaw line and down the smooth curve of her throat. He stopped at her collarbone and splayed his palm over her chest. “—your wish came true long ago.” A tear slid from the corners of her eyes and moistened her pale skin. 

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Author Spotlight--Christi Williams

Welcome Christi Williams



Title: Take a Chance on Love
Series: First in the Hawk Point Romance
Genre: Sensual Contemporary Romance
Author: Christi Williams
Release date: April 15, 2013
Publisher: Whiskey Creek Press/Torrid Books


Excerpt from Take a Chance on Love:

“I see stars when you touch me.  Do you know that? I don’t care about the future! Right at this moment, I only care about now. Do I need to beg, Micah? I will. I have no pride left when it comes to you.”
“That’s not it, baby. You know that’s not it.” He was at the point where he wondered if this state of suspension, weeks involving only foreplay or nothing at all, hadn’t become a kind of exquisite torture to see which of them would break first.
“Have you had this particular problem with other women?” she demanded, sitting up and swiping tears from her cheeks as if she didn’t want him to know she was crying.
“You’re well aware I don’t have a physical problem, Chancie. I’m killing myself to hold back, only because of you. Because you’re so damned important to me. I don’t want to make a mistake.”
She twisted to stare at him. “Bullshit,” she spat. “This is not just about me anymore. You’re afraid.”
“You make it sound like there’s something wrong with being afraid.” Suddenly he had the urge to put his clothes on.  He lowered his hands from behind his head and sat up beside her. It didn’t feel right to be arguing with her while lying down naked, although he couldn’t have explained exactly why those circumstances made him so uncomfortable.
“You do have a problem, Micah.  And it’s called trust. You need to trust me, and trust that we’ll be stronger together than we are separately. It’s starting to look like I’m going to be changing my whole life in the next few months. I’m not scared to admit I’m afraid. But I’m going to do it anyway, because things can’t go on like they are.”
“The difference is you’re not changing your whole life just because of me.”
The sudden silence in the room was like a thunderclap. The look on her face when he said that, as if he’d slapped her, was almost his undoing. He wanted to take it back, kiss her and make it better, lay her back on the bed and make the world and all its problems go away for at least a little while. 
But he didn’t. He pulled the sheet up over himself, and watched her get out of his bed and throw her clothes on, while he said and did nothing to stop her.

Buy links for Take a Chance on Love:

Kindle

Nook

Christi’s author links:
Twitter: @writerchristi https://twitter.com/WriterChristi
blog: Some Like It Hotter http://writerchristi.blogspot.com/

 Order Perilous Promises:
Barnes and Noble Nook 

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Wicked Pleasures excerpt


Buy link:


Blurb:
He’s her captor, but the passion he ignites within her is beyond anything she’s ever imagined…

When Bronte Sheridan is kidnapped and taken to an isolated house in the Colorado woods, she is determined to free herself from the wolf, Roark, who claims he is protecting her. As the story unfolds, Bronte is stunned to learn there is truth to his story. And even more shocked to discover the explosive sexual chemistry between them.

Roark needs Bronte for more than sex. She holds the key to saving his family. But what happens when she discovers the true nature of the evil spell that has loomed over the pack for a century? Human and wolf aren’t meant to mix, but the hot sex factor is off-the-charts. Can either of them walk away from the magnetism, and history, that draws them together? Can Bronte ever truly love a half-wolf?


Excerpt:
BRONTE SNUGGLED DEEPER into the nest of pleasing warmth. She’d never felt such comfort.  Stretching her muscles, she sighed languidly as a rush of indulgence whirled through her. The nightmare of being held hostage by an arrogant ass couldn’t even fade the glorious feeling.  No other time had she slept all night.
Rolling over, her face pressed against something iron hard. Inhaling deeply, she froze. Her heart skipped a beat. The smell was familiar—woodsy mixed with mint. And who the hell was breathing in her ear?
Sliding one eye open, she jerked. Shit! She darted across the bed, pulling the red satin sheet with her. The kidnapping wasn’t a dream. The arrogant ass was here, in bed, with her! Worse, she was in his bed and he was sleeping soundly. Damn! He was naked!
She raked her gaze downward, soaking up every inch of his nudity.
Hell, she didn’t want to look at him, but for the life of her, she couldn’t help herself.  Admiring his physique broke some unwritten rule about captive not ogling her captor, but if he wasn’t aware, maybe it wasn’t so wrong. He was the description of perfect male, making her self-conscious of her own less-than-perfect body. From his broad shoulders, over massive chest, narrow waist, and—she jerked her glance away. Oh hell! He was hard and a size that matched every other large part of him.  It was so wrong that such a jerk had a body of Adonis.
“Forget the body,” she whispered. She wondered how he’d gotten naked. She lifted the sheet. And how the hell did I get naked?
She was going to be sick. Stomach twirling, she squeezed the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb. She couldn’t remember anything after he’d pulled out needle and thread and—
Biting back a moan, she held up her bandaged hand. With haste she’d never known, she tore off the white gauzy material. Shit! Shit! Her heart beat faster. She stared at her wounded hand neatly stitched and covered in clear salve. Looking over at the sleeping man, her mind fabricated ways she could teach him a lesson on boundaries, and so proudly flaunting his goods. Her eyes naturally fell to his long cock. She should follow through with a few of her own evil ideas.  Wonder how he’d like a few stitches in his tool?
No use. She was a wimp. At the mere sight of blood she’d probably pass out, and ending up unconscious was the last thing she wanted.
A horrible notion flashed through her mind. Was it possible they had sex? If she was out while he stitched her wound, anything could have happened. She reached down and touched her inner thighs. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, no swelling or sensitivity, and with a cock his size, she’d have physical evidence.
Some tension left her muscles. Although he didn’t violate her, would he next time?
How had he knocked her out? Had he hypnotized her?
There was no time to stick around and debate her questions. She knew this could be her one and only chance to get the hell away.
Bronte gave the sleeping figure one more glance. He still slept. His breathing was heavy and his chest rose and fell evenly. As quietly as possible, she slid to the edge of the bed, eased her legs over the side and placed her feet onto the cool floor.  She stood and wrapped the sheet around her body as she scanned the room for her clothes. They were gone. She guessed Roark had hid them from her, thinking she wouldn’t escape without clothes. Dressed or not, she’d get out of this place. Nudity was nothing compared to spending more time in Roark’s loony bin.
With a quick glimpse over her shoulder to make sure he was still asleep, Bronte started across the room toward the door. She took each tiptoed step with great care, but every breath and every time her foot pressed against the wood, it sounded like an explosion in her ears. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. Her heart fluttered at the possibility of freedom. Reaching the exit, she placed her palm on the knob, twisted and her hope dropped. Nothing happened. It was locked. The bastard! Maybe she could stand the sight of blood, just this once, if it meant getting revenge. She turned on heel and ran into a wall of flesh and muscle. Bringing her gaze up into an expression of pure wickedness, she gulped loudly.
“You didn’t think I’d allow you to walk out of here, did you?” His voice was husky from sleep. He yawned and wiped his eyes.
His laid-back attitude made her want to rip his eyes out. And having him stand there naked and proud, made her fury multiply. How dare he be so smug! “You can’t keep me here forever.”

 “How long you stay is completely up to you, sweetheart. You’re in control more than you think.”

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Wicked Pleasures--Cover Reveal

Wicked Pleasures--Book 1 of Wicked Wolves Series. 

Available Soon!!!





One hundred years ago, a curse was placed on Roark and his wolf family. For the spell to be broken, he must find the woman who holds the key in helping him save his family from demise.

Bronte's plans of vacation are thwarted when she is kidnapped and wakes up at Roark's house. He has one request...that she must have his baby. Believing he's a lunatic, she fights him, but odd visions begin to unravel a story that leave her wanting more than her freedom.

Roark has one focus and that is to set right what he'd made wrong long ago.  Time is ticking and death looms. Enemies want nothing more than to take Roark's place as leader, and he faces decisions that may hurt those he loves. As his body grows weaker, one thing grows stronger--his connection with Bronte. His heart and mind are at war...and as the truth is revealed, he realizes he has no control over the power of love.

Can they break the spell before it's too late? Will a child be born between Bronte and Roark, giving the wolf pack a second chance?

Monday, September 2, 2013

Hot Excerpt--Friends With Benefits





Buy Link:
http://www.amazon.com/Friends-With-Benefits-ebook/dp/B00CJY21N4/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1378073123&sr=8-1&keywords=rhonda+lee+carver


Copyright 2013, Rhonda Lee Carver
All rights reserved, Lyrical Press, Inc.
She no longer heard his footsteps. Her breath caught. The presence of her lover changed the aura of her bedroom. The warmth of the room skyrocketed and a faint scent of cologne reached her nostrils. She frantically searched her mind for the fragrance. She knew the smell, but had no time to process the thought. All logical thinking faded when a deep, raspy growl penetrated the air. A lover’s sound of appreciation.
Knowing he was turned on charged her every nerve. Her breasts became tight. Her insides shuddered. She resisted the overwhelming urge to tear off her mask. Would he run away if she did?
A sliver of vulnerability targeted her senses. Yet, she was excited.
Cassie couldn’t be referred to as innocent. She’d had lovers in the past, but nothing like this. All experience floated out the window as she pondered what she should say, if she said anything at all.
The soft thumping of his shoes echoed off the walls as he moved across her hardwood floor. Sounded like he wore boots. Not cowboy boots, but work boots with rubber soles. Was he a construction worker? Her mind conjured up images of tight T-shirt clinging to a sweaty, toned upper body. Worn jeans cradling tight ass and muscular legs.
The apex of her thighs moistened. She had it bad. How could one man, a stranger at that, fan her thoughts into flaming desire?
With use of her sight off limits, her hearing became overly sensitive. She listened to every sound. The rustling of his clothes and a long, drawn-out sigh, then scuffling as he moved to the side of the bed. She pushed herself higher against the headboard, anticipation growing heavy.
He didn’t touch her. She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Hello?” She wished she could have hidden the eagerness in her voice. She didn’t want to come off as desperate; however, her body throbbed in yearning.
Silence.
She started to speak again, but the mattress lowered under his weight. Her body slid a few inches toward him across the slick material of the cover. She pushed herself back up, regaining her pose on the bed. Her breathing grew heavy in her ears. Her heart raced. Could he hear it?
Although she knew it was coming, she jerked when his fingers touched her ankle. She laughed at her involuntary reaction, but it fizzled. His touch seemed like a laser, sending rivulets of heated awareness up her leg and exploding like shards of glass into her loins.
A sigh fell from her lips before she could snatch it back. “Yes.” She clenched her hands at her sides.
Slowly, deftly, his palm trailed a frenzied path upward past her knee, and settled against her inner thigh. A shiver of need gripped her muscles.
The tip of her tongue slid out and moistened her lips on its own accord. She didn’t care that desire plagued her with physical signs of longing. All she knew was she wanted this man. Apprehension disappeared.
“Please,” she pleaded.
His hand, warm and large, relaxed against her stomach.
She squirmed, started to reach out to touch him, but he clutched her wrists with one hand and held them securely. She moaned. “I want to touch you.”
“No.” His voice came as a gruff whisper.