Happy Mother’s Day!

To all the mothers, those still with us, and those who rest in peace—thank  you for simply being a mom!
FLOWERS MOTHER'S DAY

Hump Day – Dogs Don’t Love Baths!

Happy Hump Day!

By now, I’ sure everyone knows I’m an animal lover, but dogs have a special place in my heart. I woke up this morning missing every canine who was once my best friend. Since I don’t currently have a dog buddy, I decided to live vicariously by watching funny doggy videos on YouTube. I think this might become a weekly habit.

This clip so reminded me of trying to bath anyone of my wonderful canine companions. From my first ever doggy buddy, Timothy, an amazing German Shepherd to my last, Spunky—a Black Lab/Ridgeback mixed breed, if I even looked like I was about to say the word bath, they were either dead weight or under the bed.

Enjoy and have a wonderful Wednesday.

Cheers,

Jianne

In loving memory.

   rickyPUPPIES  BROWNIE 

 

Prymal Hunger

I know it’s been a while since I posted and I apologize. The Viking and I were out of the country and our internet access was dismal.

Can you believe that? In this day and age?

Though I’m loathe to admit it, I realized how much I depend on the net to simply exist during the last while. It was so frustrating not being able to Google anything I wanted when I wanted. When your phone’s in airplane mode and there’s no universal net access,  you’re screwed. Unless you want to pay a fortune to tweet or text.

Sigh. I’m praying that we encounter plenty of cheap internet cafes during our three weeks in Scandinavia, Russia, Latvia, and Estonia this coming June.

Meanwhile, I’m scrambling to finish Prymal Hunger ASAP.  Unfortunately, my deadline date’s slipped and that means Prymal Hunger’s release has slipped to August, maybe even September. I’ll keep everyone posted.

No cover as yet, mainly because I haven’t handed in the form. (Aarggh! Another to do to add to my list.) So, I’m going to show the covers of the first three Prymal books:

Prymal Series to Passion

To make up for that bad news, I figured on giving you an unedited peek at Prymal Hunger.

***

A whiff of coffee teased Kydd Kolton’s nose and memory.

Damn, he was supposed to meet Helle, his new PA. His mood soured. He re-traced his footsteps and walked into the only Starbucks available for the three studios situated on the lot. His wolf-vision adjusted to the dimness instantly. He scanned the crowded coffee bar, realized he had no clue what the fuck Helle looked like, and waited for the blasted female to approach him.

Right then, Kydd spied Juicy Darling, waltzing his way. He stifled a groan. Crap. She was the last female he wanted to deal with. Kydd had a strict hookup policy—he never fucked the same woman twice and each and everyone knew upfront their screwing was a one and done. Juicy refused to accept that status.

Juicy, the star of the re-make of One Million Years B.C., wore a skimpier version of the ripped and torn costume that zapped Raquel Welch to sex-bombshell status some half a century ago.

“Kydd Kolton. It’s been way too long.” Juicy looped her arms around his neck. She nuzzled his jaw and licked his mouth.

Kydd repressed both a gag and a shudder when Juicy’s signature perfume, a cloying mixture of musk and frangipani, hit his nose.

Behind him, he heard a throat clear, and a dusky-CFM voice drawled, “Shall I take it that our appointment’s been postponed?”

Snatching at any excuse to rid himself of Juicy, Kydd captured her wrists, removed her hands from his neck to her sides, and pivoted, giving Juicy his back.

He just about swallowed his tongue.

The name Helle suited her. For even without benefit of his wolf-hearing, he recognized the sex and cigars voice that had awoken him and his cock this morning.

A riot of glossy flame-colored windswept curls framed an elfin, freckled-faced woman-child. Honey-hued doe-shaped eyes lobbed scorn and infuriation at him. Her strawberry-ripe plump lips curled into a sneer Freddy Kruger would envy.

He pictured those lips wrapped around his dick and hardened on a heartbeat.

“Well?” Hands jammed on lean jeans-encased hips, she tossed her head back to reveal a graceful, slender neck.

Claim-bite her.

***

Hope that makes up a tad for the release delay of Prymal Hunger!

Have a magnificent Monday!

Cheers,

Jianne

Manacled!

I recently took back the rights to Manacled in Monaco, the first book of mine to be published. I don’t know about other authors, but for me, it’s difficult to re-read my own work. It’s been at least five years since I’ve even glanced at the book, so I was pleasantly surprised to find that I enjoyed the re-read.

Manacled, I shortened the title, will be re-edited and re-published this summer. So, today, I decided to treat you to a little teaser. Isn’t the new cover delish?

managledFinal-FJM_Thumbnail_200x300

Blurb:

Rolan Anthony Paxton, the Pirate’s celebrated wide receiver, dominated the football world for ten years. Fame and fortune falls into his lap and he ridse the rainbow collecting Super Bowl wins. He crooks his finger and women line up — Hollywood stars, super models, beauty queens. A decade later, disillusioned and unable to pinpoint exactly what’s missing, he finds himself staring over the head of his latest arm candy at the end of his career and resenting the young buck gunning for his position. Then he runs into Sarita Khan, the nose-in-a-book classmate whose virginity he claimed on prom night on the fifty-yard line and whose memory has fueled his fantasies for over ten years.

Sarita Khan never thought she’d see Rolan Paxton again. The NFL drafted him two days after Prom, two days after he took her virginity. What were the odds of her son’s father chartering the luxury yacht she’s crewing for a decade later? And that he’d still make her burn like he did ten years ago?

Sarita wants Rolan, but she wants her independence. Rolan’s a control freak bent on domination. Determined to show her who’s master, Rolan slaps on the manacles — and turns this trip to Monaco into a pleasure cruise.

Excerpt:

***

Rolan Anthony Paxton’s dawn fantasy had him in a state of rapture.

One hand cradling his neck, the other thrown across a king-size pillow, he slid his thighs apart over the cool satin sheets to give the expert mouth cocooning his throbbing prick better access. A light twirl over the crown, and that delectable tongue worked its way down the length of him.

“Rolan, sweetie?”

Stifling an automatic wince, he lifted one eyelid and looked at the blonde servicing him. Cindy-something, a Pamela Anderson look-alike on the verge of stardom, great tits and a god-awful high-pitched, nails-on-the-blackboard voice. He should have picked the other one.

“Hmmh?”

The yacht’s engines hummed to life and the boat vibrated and rocked. An open porthole let Mediterranean brine into the room, along with an unexpected morning chill. Monte Carlo’s perpetual traffic buzzed in the background.

At least she hadn’t stopped using those wonderful hands, but that happy thought evaporated with the dig of a nail.

“Ouch,” he snapped. “Watch those talons.”

“Oops, sorry,” she said, and cupped a hand over her mouth to suppress a nervous giggle.

A barrage of firm knocks hit the cabin door and he cut to the sound, mood souring and lips curling. Figured; it took him longer and longer these days, and the slightest mishap turned him off. Age, it had to be, since he was twenty-nine and tired of the same old, same old.

Money, fame, success, and nothing counted anymore.

He knew he should be grateful. How many athletes made it to the Super Bowl, not once, not twice, but three times? Startled out of his brooding by a repeat of rapping on the burnished mahogany door, he shot a glance at the blonde and ordered, “Cover up.” In a louder tone, he called, “Come in.”

Without looking up, he snagged the cover sheet and began drawing it over his calves. He stopped when an audibly gasped, “Oh, no” penetrated the silence.

His head snapped up and a stunned paralysis claimed his limbs.

He’d never forgotten those eyes, the color of liquid caramel, that wild hair, every shade of a fiery sunset, and a bottom lip so plump, so inviting that one night he hadn’t been able to resist nibbling on it for hours.

Sarita Khan, the nose-in-a-book classmate he’d been forced to serve four Saturdays of detention with during his last year in high school. The girl whose virginity he’d taken on prom night after breaking up with the captain of the cheerleading team. Those sweet elfin features had haunted his dreams intermittently over the last ten years. Adrenalin surged in his veins and his heartbeat accelerated. Sarita, his Sarita.

That bronze-dusted complexion paled beneath his scrutiny and she swayed, the breakfast tray balanced on her forearms listed back and forth. She swallowed, slapped a palm onto the table cemented to the left, and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and hopped out of the bed, oblivious to his nudity, stalking forward. “Here, let me take that.”

For a few seconds she gripped the tray tighter, but didn’t lift her lids. Then her hold slackened.

He tugged the tray away and set it on the table. Eyes Krazy Glued to her delicate, heart-shaped face, raking a quick assessment of the changes over the last ten years, he forgot Cindy, the boat, the injuries plaguing his career, everything save Sarita and sweet memories. The compulsion to trace the soft curve of her cheek, cup her face, and suck that lower lip, defeated only by a nervous giggle in the background. Rolan stifled an internal groan and he fisted his hands.

Sarita’s jaw clenched and the pulse at her throat beat like a cartoon character’s heart, thump, thump, in time to the rise and fall of her chest.

“Thank you,” she said.

And the memory of that low throaty voice during their lovemaking cascaded like a waterfall, showering gooseflesh on the back of his neck. Enthralled, stun gunned, he didn’t react when she twirled, stalked to the door, exited, and slammed it so hard it reverberated.

***

Have a superb Sunday!

Guest Author Allie Ritch & Just My Type – Vampire Territory 2 Giveaway!

Ad - Vampire Territory Series

I love having my author buddy, Allie Ritch, visit my blog as we have yet to meet in person, and we only forty minutes apart! One day, Allie. one day soon.

The second book in Allie’s Vampire Territory series, Just My Type (dontcha love that title!) released yesterday. So, take it away Allie and tell us all about your sexy release!

You’re always such a great host, Jianne. Thank you for having me on your blog again. Last time I was here, I announced the release of Drinking Partners, the first book in my Vampire Territory series. I know as a reader I don’t like waiting a long time to read the next book in a series, so I’m thrilled to announce that Vampire Territory 2: Just My Type is already out!

Just My Type came out 4/14/15 and picks up right where Drinking Partners left off. This second book focuses on Melody, personal assistant to master vampire Alex Gage, and Eryx, the Southern master’s guard. There’s another player in the mix, though. Alex’s human brother, Wess, has a thing for Mel, so there’s a bit of a love triangle. Which man will Mel choose?

I had a blast writing the action in this book, and, yes, that includes the hot love scenes. If you want to read about long nights of fighting and loving—fangs, romance, swordplay, sex, firefights, and a whole lot more—then this book is for you.

To win the FREE eBook copy of either Drinking Partners or Just My Type (winner’s choice) – leave your e-mail address in the body of your comment.

AR_VT2_JustMyType

Blurb for Just My Type:

There’s trouble in vampire territory, and Melody is right in the middle of it. A new arrival from Eastern Europe named Taspar Tong is out to take over her masters’ domains using the army he has at his command. Mel is a personal assistant, not a soldier, and big male vampires scare her.

That includes Eryx, the dark-haired warrior who is always watching her and baiting her with his remarks. If only he didn’t look so sexy. Mel figures Wess Gage—their human captive—is a far safer love interest, although Wess is part of the Human Rebellion bent on exterminating all vampires. Can he really see past his prejudice, or will he turn on her?

There are two dangerous men in Mel’s life. She just has to decide which of them is her type—the one who makes her feel human again, or the vampire who makes her blood boil?

 

Excerpt from Just My Type (graphic sexual content):

***

She wrapped her arms around him and pierced his skin with her fangs. Latched on tight, she sucked on his vein and tasted him with greedy swipes of her tongue. His blood hit her like a fireball—so much hotter and more potent than what came in lifeless plastic bags. It scorched her insides and warmed her for one magnificent moment.

Piggybacking on her hunger was another appetite that swiftly caught fire, as well. There was an inescapable intimacy to feeding, and his rich blood awakened all her nerve endings. Her nipples pebbled behind her shirt and bra, and she rubbed them against his firm chest.

Eryx made a sound of approval. “That’s it, sweet Melody.”

Sweet Melody? Some distant part of her marveled at his use of the endearment, while the rest of her was focused on the large male body beneath her. The dagger that was strapped to his leg pressed against her inner thigh, and a far more enticing length was tucked against her crotch. Eryx sported what felt like a huge erection.

Her panties were already damp, and they grew wetter as she continued to draw hard on his vein. Sex and blood—she wanted to be filled by him in every way. Flattening her hands against his chest, she savored the strong beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. His abs felt like cobblestones as she swept her palms over them on the way toward his waistband. When she reached his belt, she opened the buckle and popped the top button of his pants. He caught her hand before she could pull down the zipper.

With her lips still pressed to his skin, Mel groaned in frustration and tried to pull free. Eryx held tight and set her hand on his shoulder before he let go. She was debating another attempt at his fly when he attacked her pants instead. He undid the button on her jeans with a dexterous flick of his fingers. Then she heard the metallic click-click-click of each tooth of her zipper giving way as he slid down the tab in slow motion.

She nearly broke suction when he squeezed his hand inside the crotch of her panties. Already spread wide to accommodate the span of his thighs, she was open and vulnerable to his touch. He speared his middle finger between her labia and zeroed in on her clit.

“I’ll take care of you,” Eryx promised. He was already working the pad of his finger in tight circles.

Mel had heard vampire sex was better than anything humans had. The same sensitivity that gave them acute eyesight and hearing also heightened their sense of touch. Her clit definitely seemed to be supersensitive because it tingled with rapture under the friction. Of course, she hadn’t made love with anyone since her sophomore year of college, so she couldn’t make much of a comparison.

Caught up in the rubbing and her own sucking, she didn’t have room to worry about what she was doing or with whom. There also wasn’t her usual anxiety about whether or not she’d reach orgasm. She rode his hand and squealed in delight when he penetrated her with his finger.

Desperation filled her, and she could still feel the hard ridge of his erection. She reached down to free him from his pants, but he growled at her in warning. Then he distracted her by thrusting a second finger into her sheath. Her climax blasted through her as violently as a firefight.

Mel pulled her fangs free as her pussy clenched and sent pleasure shooting up her spine. Eryx covered her mouth and drank her cry. His kiss wasn’t as gentle or warm as Wess’s had been. Like the vampire himself, his kiss was dark and powerful and demanding. He didn’t release her lips until she finished cresting and sprawled boneless against him.

Several pounding heartbeats later, Mel’s brain unscrambled enough to realize she hadn’t gotten to touch his cock. It remained stiff and formidable beneath her, just out of reach. She was too tired to sit up, but she shifted in his lap.

Eryx tightened his grip to hold her still. “If we had a few more hours, I’d strip you naked and make you relieve this ache.”

“Hours?” she mumbled.

He laughed, low and sinister.

The sound sent a shiver through her as the sun rose and put her to sleep.

***

Buy Links: Just My Type is available from Loose Id in all the formats you need for your e-reader, and you’ll also find it soon at Amazon, ARe, B&N, Kobo, iBooks, and other sites where e-books are sold.

Loose Id: http://www.loose-id.com/vampire-territory-2-just-my-type.html
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Just-Type-Vampire-Territory-Book-ebook/dp/B00W5TGLYS/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1429149091&sr=1-1
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/just-my-type-4

Allie Ritch’s Links:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AllieRitch
Website/Blog: https://allieritch.wordpress.com
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/AllieRitch
Google+: https://plus.google.com/111312224583397875521/posts
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/allieritch
Goodreads Page: http://www.goodreads.com/AllieRitch
Google+: https://plus.google.com/111312224583397875521/posts
ARe Café: http://www.arecafe.com/members/allie_ritch/
TRR Page: http://www.theromancereviews.com/allieritch2

Wow! I need an ice bucket!

Thanks for sharing that sizzling excerpt from Just My Type, Allie.

Have a tantalizing Thursday everyone!

Cheers,