Excerpt – Branded by Étaín , The Beasts of Bärvik, Book One

December 3, 2013 by 2 Comments

Branded_by_Etain-Jianne_Carlo-200x320 Here’s another excerpt from Branded by Étaín , The Beasts of Bärvik, Book One:

“’Tis a prosperous settlement.” Nikolas pulled the hood of his thick cloak forward.

“Aye.”

“How fared your meeting with Princess Étaín?”

“As planned. We are invited to feast at the castle.” Odin’s luck had been with Brand the first day he set foot on Caul Cairlinne.

He had encountered his prey, Princess Étaín, and captured her attention with one heated glance. Every night since then, he had woven his way into her dreams and filled her mind with images of the two of them in bedsport. Timid visions, to be cert.

It had taken all his discipline to keep the images tame. To tamp down his burning desire to bedevil her with carnal pleasure until she did his bidding with not a moment’s hesitation.

Brand studied the crowded market and spied Étaín turning onto one of the paths leading away from the village. She headed in the direction of the blacksmith. A smile chased his lips. He had promised the blacksmith work aplenty, enough to fill his coffers for a lifetime and more, and gained a wealth of knowledge in return.

Princess Étaín.

The truthsayer of Caul Cairlinne, the daughter of King Mac Eiccnigh mac [111] Dalagh[J2] , his wife to be, and the woman who would make him a ruler of this settlement.

Her innocence struck at the ugliness carved into his soul, the beast that had arisen within him and the other members of his demesne when the fire mountain on their isle[J3]  began spewing its innards and dense clouds of acrid smoke and black ash.

Their herds died overnight. Hundreds of cattle carcasses littered the settlement. The stench had been overwhelming. A sickness spread through the population and sent those who were struck into a berserker killing spree. Then the dream weaving began in the survivors and threatened their sanity. Brand had been the first one to speak of it, and he became the leader of the reduced numbers left in the colony.

“Think you she will breed the dream weaving out of you?”

Brand shrugged. “Only time will tell.”

The sun bathed the crush of market goers and glinted off the axes of the fisherman hacking at their catch. He followed Étaín’s lithe form as she meandered between the throngs.

She brimmed with life spirit, the joy bubbling into her lithe fidgeting; the happiness she exuded glowed like ’twas a tiny bright sun following her, which shone only on her petite figure. She bristled with energy and had danced in place earlier while searching the throngs for him.

He smirked. It was him she looked for, it was him she sought, and tonight he would make her his.

Hope you enjoyed!

Jianne

 

Filed Under: News and Updates, romance Tagged With: , , , , , ,

The Romance Studio’s Thanksgiving Party!

November 25, 2013 by Leave a Comment

For the next couple of days, today and tomorrow, I’m running a few contests over  at The Romance Studio’s Thanksgiving Party.  Drop by and meet new authors, read some smexy posts, and win prizes. Here’s the link: http://trsparties.com/ or click on the banner below:

logo - trs thanksgiving party

Here’s the big prize!

Amazon eGift Card Giveaway

Enter for a chance to win a $125 Amazon eGift Card! Deadline is midnight EST 11/26/13! Click here to find out how to enter!

Have a heckva Monday!

Cheers,

Jianne

 

Filed Under: News and Updates, romance Tagged With: , , , , , , ,

That Pearly Drop is OUT!

November 7, 2013 by 6 Comments

So doing the Snoopy Dance!!! That Pearly Drop is out – and the cover got a bit of an upgrade – here it is (had to show off a bit)

Tag Line:That_Pearly_Drop-Jianne_Carlo-200x320

What do the hounds of hell, time travel, a murdered girl, a coach ticket to Wye Castle, and a governess’ letter of employment have to do with waking up in 1763, the mate of wolf-shifter, Ian, the Earl of Wye? Emma’s about to find out.

Blurb: 

Emma knows time travel’s impossible. So, the only other explanation for her going to sleep on Halloween night in 2013 and waking up in Wales in the year 1763 is that she’s insane. There’s a murdered girl, a coach ticket to Wye Castle, and a letter of employment to be governess to the Earl of Wye’s daughter. What’s a gal to do but go with the flow?
Wolf-shifter Ian, Earl of Wye, recognizes Emma as his mate instantly and senses she’s in danger. He knows Emma’s harboring a deep, dark secret. But, no matter what he does, she won’t confide in him. Then he finds Emma wounded and rambling about nine white gorgons who attacked her. The hounds of hell are Ian’s nemeses, and the fact they’ve reappeared in the mortal world after centuries of banishment can only mean one thing…

Here are all the buy links that are live so far:

Amazon ARe  B&N Taliesin

Please like, rate, and review anywhere you can. Already there are Goodreads and Amazon Reviews – here’s a sample:

By Midnight Attic Reader Five stars

I loved Ian and all that was involved in his wolf-shifter ways. The Murphy’s Time-Travel Laws prefacing each chapter were hilarious, especially coupled with Emma’s fumbling to explain her “colonial idioms” and I loved her nicknames for people. I hope to see more of the C-men and I suspect we will see more of Emma’s friends from the future (present?). Great read and I look forward to reading the next installment!

Five stars Oct 31, 2013 Glenda Bettin rated it 5 of 5 stars –

Wow what can I say about this book, I LOVED IT. If I could, I would give it 10 stars, COULD NOT put it down, had me at chapter 1. I loved the mouth on Emma, fav part, just because you’re Catholic, doesn’t mean you can’t talk like a truck driver, OMG that is so ME.

Five stars Nov 04, 2013 Sharla rated it 5 of 5 stars –

I thoroughly enjoyed That Pearly Drop! It had everything I could hope for in a book – HOT sex, humor, angst, and more HOT sex!

I’m having a great day! Hope you are too!

Cheers,

 Jianne

 

Filed Under: News and Updates, romance Tagged With: , , , , ,

That Pearly Drop – Excerpt #2

November 6, 2013 by 5 Comments

That_Pearly_Drop-Jianne_Carlo-200x320Excerpt #2 – That Pearly Drop:

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law: It doesn’t matter if it’s in the past, present, or future—the first person to fall into a pond is always the one who can’t swim.

I have no clue how I made it back to my room. All I know is that I wedged both the trunk and the stool against the door and then collapsed on the bed. I lie there staring at the rough ceiling and reciting the Lord’s prayer over and over.

My brain is defective, and my body is out of whack. How else to explain my reaction to seeing my new boss about to screw a woman? The image of him palming his cock and spreading that pearly drop fills my head. I cover my face with my hands.

Stop, stop.

I cannot be turned on. I cannot. Yet my vajayjay’s quivering and I’m wet. Shame, self-loathing, and an explosive rage trigger a temper tantrum. I pound my fists on the wall and tears pour down my cheeks. All I want is to do is go home.

My fury vaporizes, I flop onto my stomach, and then curl into a fetal position. I am emotionally bankrupt and energy depleted. I stare unseeing at the rough mortar and bargain with God. Make it all a daylight nightmare, let me wake up in my own bed in Boca, and I’ll never miss Sunday mass again. I’ll volunteer for all the soup kitchens in South Florida and do penance for the rest of my life.

The rattle of wheels rolling over cobblestones jerks me back to reality, to the macabre version of reality I now occupy.

My mind jump starts and my heart stops threatening to fly out of my mouth. It won’t be long before someone realizes I never met with the earl. I have to snap out of this stupid terror-trance.

I sit up, the room spins, and my stomach twists into a series of painful knots. How much time has elapsed?

I stand, slog over to the window and squint, trying to see through the dust-crusted glass. The sun’s still shining, and in the distance, I spy two little girls chasing each other and a puppy in a terraced garden. They look so carefree and innocent.

A wave of dizziness has me swaying, and I grab the window frame. Sustenance. How long has it been since I’d even had a sip of water? Exhaustion and shock make my memories fuzzy, and thinking chronologically is beyond me at the moment. I have a desperate need to hear the sound of my own voice. “You need food, a good night’s sleep, and a shot of tequila. Maybe not in that order.”

Hope you enjoyed!

I don’t know about you, but a tequila shot somehow seems to bring everything into perspective-it’s the lime and the salt, I swear.

Cheers,

Jianne

 

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law: It doesn’t matter if it’s in the past, present, or future—the first person to fall into a pond is always the one who can’t swim.

I have no clue how I made it back to my room. All I know is that I wedged both the trunk and the stool against the door and then collapsed on the bed. I lie there staring at the rough ceiling and reciting the Lord’s prayer over and over.

My brain is defective, and my body is out of whack. How else to explain my reaction to seeing my new boss about to screw a woman? The image of him palming his cock and spreading that pearly drop fills my head. I cover my face with my hands.

Stop, stop.

I cannot be turned on. I cannot. Yet my vajayjay’s quivering and I’m wet. Shame, self-loathing, and an explosive rage trigger a temper tantrum. I pound my fists on the wall and tears pour down my cheeks. All I want is to do is go home.

My fury vaporizes, I flop onto my stomach, and then curl into a fetal position. I am emotionally bankrupt and energy depleted. I stare unseeing at the rough mortar and bargain with God. Make it all a daylight nightmare, let me wake up in my own bed in Boca, and I’ll never miss Sunday mass again. I’ll volunteer for all the soup kitchens in South Florida and do penance for the rest of my life.

The rattle of wheels rolling over cobblestones jerks me back to reality, to the macabre version of reality I now occupy.

My mind jump starts and my heart stops threatening to fly out of my mouth. It won’t be long before someone realizes I never met with the earl. I have to snap out of this stupid terror-trance.

I sit up, the room spins, and my stomach twists into a series of painful knots. How much time has elapsed?

I stand, slog over to the window and squint, trying to see through the dust-crusted glass. The sun’s still shining, and in the distance, I spy two little girls chasing each other and a puppy in a terraced garden. They look so carefree and innocent.

A wave of dizziness has me swaying, and I grab the window frame. Sustenance. How long has it been since I’d even had a sip of water? Exhaustion and shock make my memories fuzzy, and thinking chronologically is beyond me at the moment. I have a desperate need to hear the sound of my own voice. “You need food, a good night’s sleep, and a shot of tequila. Maybe not in that order.”

Cheers,

Filed Under: News and Updates, romance Tagged With: , , , , ,

That Pearly Drop – How a Title is Born!

November 5, 2013 by Leave a Comment

That_Pearly_Drop-Jianne_Carlo-200x320So I’m sharing excerpts from Pearly (how my editor and I talk about the book) this week, and I figured the reason for the title should somehow be showcased- so here goes::

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law: Time travel is impossible—until it happens.

I jog-walk down the eerie, shadowed corridor muttering, “You can do this. You can. You’ve faced down oilmen, riggers, engineers. You have five older brothers.”
Door number one goes by.
“You’re from the twenty-first century. You graduated summa cum laude with a double major and a minor.” I pass door number two.
My footsteps slow of their own accord.
I chew the insides of my cheeks and force myself to continue.

“Go big or go home.”
Decision made, I stop in front of door number three, which stands slightly ajar. Raising my hand to knock on the solid wood, I shift and my boot catches on the too-long hem of Diana’s dress.
I snatch at the frame and manage to right myself.
My jaw drops at the scene revealed by the half-open door.
Behind a large, burnished desk stands a man who is the epitome of the Viking god Thor. Massive shoulders, chiseled pectorals, arms a logger would envy, a long, flowing, golden mane, and the profile of an immortal deity. He wears not a stitch of clothing, and the enormous erection he sports mesmerizes me. I can’t drag my eyes from his huge, engorged penis.
He doesn’t notice me, and I understand why when my gaze drops.
A half-naked woman lies sprawled on the top of the desk, which is located parallel to the far wall instead of fronting the doorway. She’s angled so I can see the profile of her face and body clearly. Her head’s half-resting on one elbow and her chin’s tilted back, exposing a slender, graceful neck.
I catch a glimpse of a blue pendant dangling from a thick-linked gold chain hanging to one side. A mane of glossy ringlets are spread in a perfect array around her head and shoulders.
She’s wearing a thin, transparent nightgown, which is scrunched above her waist. Her legs hang down from the desk, and a triangle of pale blonde curls at the apex of her thighs shimmers in the dancing flames of the candles attached to sconces on the opposite wall.
He cups himself.
Fascinated, I follow his tanned fingers as he strokes back his foreskin to reveal the reddened head of his penis.
A heated paralysis strangles my brain. I lick my lips when a thick, pearly drop oozes from the glistening slit in the center of the crown of his cock.
Lightning crackles. Thunder booms.
His head whips around and our stares collide.

Hope you enjoyed!

Cheers,

Jianne

 

Filed Under: News and Updates, romance Tagged With: , , , , ,