Manhandled Just $.99 at Amazon & Sinner’s FREE!

Now’s the time to pick up Sinner FREE at Amazon for a limited time only! And Manhandled is just $.99!!! Simply click on the covers below and remember Sinner’s FREE!

Sinner-Jianne_Carlo-500x800                     Manhandled-Jianne_Carlo-200x320

 

Excerpt from Manhandled:

Rolan Anthony Paxton’s dawn fantasy had him in a state of rapture.Manhandled-Jianne_Carlo-200x320

“Rolan, sweetie?”

Stifling an automatic wince, he lifted one eyelid and looked at the blonde servicing him. Cindy-something, great boobs 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 winced and glanced down. “Watch the nails, babe.”

“Oops, sorry.” She 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 thirty-one and tired of the same old, same old.

Money, fame, success—he had it all and nothing counted anymore.

He knew he should be grateful. How many athletes made it to the championship, 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 look 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 haunted his dreams intermittently over the last twelve 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 hopped out of the bed, oblivious to his nudity, and stalked forward. “Here, let me take that.”

For a few seconds she gripped the tray tighter, but she 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 twelve 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 was defeated only by a nervous giggle in the background. Rolan stifled an internal groan, and he fisted his hands.

Excerpt from Sinner:

The first kitchen cabinet she opened yielded ten packs of candles. By the time Lincoln Sinner-Jianne_Carlo-200x320returned, Destiny had finished her list, and a dozen flickering candles imbued a soft golden glow to the main cabin.

Surveying the room, she sighed.

Wasn’t this every woman’s fantasy?

Stuck in a warm cabin in the mountains with a hunk who looked like he knew more about sex than Antonio Banderas. So he thought she was easy. It wasn’t as if they’d ever meet again in real life. And he didn’t seem to have any problem with her being ten pounds overweight. Okay, okay, maybe fifteen. But who would know? In four months she turned twenty-seven, and she’d never had torrid sex, never had a hot affair.

The wind howled and lifted the top of a snowdrift into the air when Lincoln, carrying a bundle of logs, kicked the door open. An icy finger sailed on the gust, trailing a chill around Destiny’s neck. She wished she’d packed a scarf, and tugged the blanket over one ear.

Lincoln used his boot to slam the door shut.

“Why didn’t you start a fire?”

“With what?” She’d held a dozen lit matches to one log, and the wood didn’t even catch a spark.

He looked to the ceiling.

“The normal tools—paper, logs.”

“Bite me,” Destiny snapped. All dreams of a romantic snowed-in couple of days went poof. What a bully.

He stacked the logs on the other side of the fireplace and, in less time than it took her to inhale, or so it seemed, had a blazing fire crackling and spewing sparks. The scent of pine infused the air.

“I will.” He stood and unzipped his parka. “You like it rough, I take it?”

Lincoln shrugged out of his jacket, stowed the garment on the three-hook wooden coat stand to the right of the door, turned to face her, and smiled.

She shivered. The man had a bone-melting, devil-may-care grin.

“What?” He couldn’t mean….

“You like to be bitten?” A forefinger stroked the cleft of his chin.

“None of your business. What are you? Into kink?”

“Depends on the kink. I’m not into pain, but I’m not averse to a love bite here and there. Or a few spanks.”

Spanks? She was in over her head. Cripes, she’d always wondered about that. Pervasive guilt from Sunday school lessons and spending three hours in a porn superstore made her blurt, “Look, let’s get a few points cleared up. Those toys and DVDs weren’t for me. I don’t do that kind of stuff.” She paused, trying to erase the image from her pupils of her over his knees.

“And here I was hoping that deep throat was your specialty.” He started unbuttoning his shirt. “Do we have food?”

***

Hope this jumpstarts your Magic Monday!

Cheers,

Jianne

 

Wolf Raider Rides!

Wolf_Raider-Jianne_Carlo-200x320

Wow! That’s all I can say about the cover for Book#4 in my White Wolf Pack series—Wolf Raider. Isn’t it delicious? As is he *fanning myself*. This is one of my favorite covers to date. I love the lime colors, the scruffiness of the guy, and his delicious, sculpted torso.

Here’s a quick preview of Wolf Raider:

***

Lizzie swiveled, marched out of the bathroom, and headed for the conference room that had just about become her office over the last few months.

Chad glanced up when she walked through the doorway. The wayward forelock, she found sexier than a roomful of naked Greek gods, dusted a dark brow.

Not a single stain of surprise marked his features.

She hadn’t expected no reaction at all.

What in heck?

The pounding in her ears exploded into a deafening bongo drumming when he walked a slow circle around her, his hooded stare spearing her from the tips of the shiny black boots to her unbound riot of raven-black curls. He removed her nerd owl-shaped spectacles. “You don’t need these.”

Uneasiness wrenched her belly.

He knew.

How?

Oh God.

The temptation to cut and haul ass near blindsided her.

He chucked the glasses onto the table.

Set his thumb to her throat pulse, drew a line from the center of her collarbone up her neck to balance the tip of her chin on his finger. Uttered not a single sound, but his mouth kinked up into a sardonic smirk.  The one that told his prey he knew the answer to his silent challenge.  She gnashed her back molars.

Deciding to brazen it out, Lizzie assumed a classic runway model-pose, one hip thrust forward, chest lifted, and spine as rigid as a steel beam. “I don’t need them to see, if that’s what you’re getting at. They do serve a useful purpose, however.”

“Keeping the wolves at bay?” The crooked grin, once again, didn’t quite reach his eyes. His stare didn’t waver.

If only he was a real wolf, as shifter, the alpha to her beta, the mate she yearned to find. But no, Chad MacTire had no primal instincts beyond gutting and quartering a company. He was a raider, a feral predator who destroyed firm after firm.

It didn’t matter a whit.

The man ignited her every erogenous zone—physical and mental, though until meeting him, she never knew a male’s mind could get her juices flowing. She craved his large, muscled, body, fantasized about his cock. But, she also loved his razor-blade humor, his analytical mind, the way he whittled a takeover to the absolute basics.

This had to work.

Having a hookup with Chad MacTire would drive him out of her head.

***

Hope that teasing preview makes your Monday magical.

Cheers,

Jianne

Start The Week Hungry!

Prymal Hunger’s up and running at Amazon!!! Yay – Snoopy Happy Dance!!!

Save 20% by pre-ordering Prymal Hunger ! Click on the link below:

Prymal_Hunger-Jianne_Carlo--200x320Blurb:

Kydd Kolton leads a charmed life. A Rogue wolf and retired UWF fighter, he parlays his toned bod and surfer good looks into a wildly successful acting career. Rich, famous, handsomer than sin, Kydd’s never had to lift more than a pinky or a perfect brow to snare a woman until he meets Helle.

Helle snares the dream job to launch her Hollywood ambitions—she’s Kydd Kolton’s new personal assistant. After her recent horrifying kidnapping by a sexual predator, the mere notion of desire repulses her. The last thing she expects is her explosive attraction to Kydd. When Kydd tells her he’s a shifter, she’s certain he’s lost his marbles.

Then he shows her his wolf.

And the secret she’s kept for her entire life unravels, tumbling Helle and Kydd into murder and mayhem. Can she trust Kydd to keep her safe?

Excerpt:
***

Helle Francis Rivers froze.

Her lungs went on total shutdown and her oxygen-deprived brain reeled with an intoxicating giddiness.

She couldn’t haul her gaze away from Kydd
Kolton’s mesmerizing eyes, one moment the breath taking blue of the azure California sky, the next a turquoise sparkling with emerald facets.

No human being should be so gorgeous.

Kydd Kolton was even more beautiful in person than onscreen. The straight, shoulder-length blond hair, those incredible turquoise eyes, and the way they actually twinkled when he flashed her the baddest-bad-boy grin on the planet.

A thunderstorm of déjà vu frazzled her gray matter. An overwhelming awareness of him swamped her. Helle felt like she’d known him for an eternity. She recognized his distinct scent, a mixture of leather, grass and wind, comfort, and spiraling excitement.

Why did he smell so familiar, so right? So frigging sexy.

She clenched her vaginal walls hoping to stem the creamy rivulets now tickling her panties. This could not be happening. No man had ever turned her on.

Not once had she ever experienced desire.

Curiosity—yes.

Desire—no.

How many times had she Googled the symptoms? Mentally evaluated them while kissing or being caressed? Not once in her life had her sex ever creamed. Except for that hint of moisture while she’d been on the phone with Kydd Kolton first thing this morning.

No. No. No.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She did not, could not, want to jump Kydd Kolton’s bones.

All at once, an image of Kydd and her naked on a beach with foamy waves lapping at their joined bodies sucked away what was left of her rationality. The fine sand molded and sank when he drove his cock into her.

Whaaat?

Helle stiffened to repress an all-over body shudder.

Was she actually fantasizing?

“And who’s this?”

The scratch-on-a-blackboard voice jerked Helle out of her sensual daze. The contempt-laced question came from a mouth of plumped and painted perfection. The face belonging to those luscious lips held not a hint of a flaw. The traffic-stopping body attached to Ms. Perfect’s countenance flared plumes of envy and instant dislike within Helle.

Gawd.

What a fool she was.

How could she imagine Kydd Kolton desired her when Ms. Perfection was draped all over him?

For a second, Helle’s gaze touched down on the blonde’s G-cup breasts. She choked back a howl of frustration. As if Kydd Kolton would deign to examine her almost non-existent A tits.

She had imagined his reaction.

Must’ve.

For Helle knew without a morsel of doubt no man could ever want her. Not a woman with her morbid secrets. Secrets so dank, so vile it had driven Josiah to his death.

Josiah.

Why did she have to think of Josiah now?

***

Now ain’t that a great way to start the week???

****SAVE 20% OFF THE REGULAR PRICE BY PRE-ORDERING!****
PRICE WILL GO UP TO THE NORMAL $2.99 ONCE THIS TITLE RELEASES, SO BUY NOW!

Merry Monday everyone!

Cheers,

Jianne

My Alpha & Spatial Challenges!

I’m direction challenged. Spatially too. All my friends know never to ask me whether turn left or right. Instead they say— which hand? You can imagine how difficult it was for me to write a book situated on two sets of back-to-back neighborhood alcoves. I  kept getting so confused  while writing the action scenes for My Alpha that I eventually had to draw the two streets and the main road connecting them. Here’s what I came up with;

Alpha map

 

Guess I should also add, I’m drawing challenged too :).

My Alpha, book #2 in the White Wolf Pack series,  was released yesterday and should now be available at all major book sellers.

Here’s the sexy cover and the blurb;

My_Alpha-Jianne_Carlo-200x320Blurb:

Susie White wants no picket fences, no alpha, and no cubs. White wolf woman she may be, but no pack for her, no sireee. Alpha me not, that’s her motto. In all caps.

Half-breed wolf Joe Huroq’s not looking for a mate. His job in international security’s too dangerous and too erratic for relationships. Stop and go screwing, that’s his motto—hot and heavy between missions. Then he glimpses his new neighbor tanning nude and the situation explodes. Literally. Susie’s house is consumed by fire.

What’s Joe to do but offer Susie sanctuary?

Susie can’t resist the temptation of hunky bad-ass Joe. She suggests a friends with benefits arrangement, which he accepts with remarkable alacrity. The sex is frantic, steaming, and non-stop. Neither one can keep their hands off the other. Then Joe’s best friend’s son is kidnapped on the way home from school, the fire’s deemed arson, and two other kids go missing. A serial killer’s on the loose, and he has Susie in his sights. Susie refuses to accept Joe’s mate claim. Can he keep her safe when she won’t obey a single order?

Click on the cover to go to the Amazon buy link for My Alpha!

Have a fabulous Friday!

Cheers,

 

Jianne

Wolf Raider!

My_Alpha-Jianne_Carlo-500x800Because I’m immersed to the eyeballs in wolves—I’m currently writing Wolf Raider, #3 in the White Wolf Pack series, and Wùlfe, #1 in the Viking Invasion series—I figured I’d start off this week with a bang and give everyone a taste of Wolf Raider!

Excerpt from Wolf Raider:

***

Blizzard conditions—check.

Transportation impossible—check.

Being ‘forced’ to spend the night at Chad Lexington’s condo—check.

“My sister keeps a few clothes here.”

The object of Lizzie White’s sexual fantasies for the last five months raked her from tilted beret to BDSM-style boots. Her breasts sizzled under his searing stare. She prayed her feverish desire and frazzled nerves didn’t show, and clamped her mouth shut.

“She’s shorter than you.”

Chad’s gaze fixed on her chest and no amount of willing her blood to cool worked. Her nipples budded and her juices tickled her labia. Sweat coated her nape and her grip on the laptop case white-knuckled.

“It’d probably be better if I loaned you sweats and a T-shirt. They’ll be big, but that’s better than wearing too tight clothes.”

The devil had it in for her.

Chad’s sweats abrading her pussy. The material that gloved his cock riding her clit. Cat on a hot tin roof had nothing on the sexual tension driving Lizzie. “Thanks, but not necessary, I sleep in the altogether. I am sorry to put you to such an inconvenience, however.”

Lie number one—she wasn’t sorry at all.

Had Mr. Stoic actually blinked at her I-sleep-naked declaration?

“It’s not as if you caused the worst weather conditions in the last century of Chicago weather.” As usual, his smile didn’t quite reflect in those impenetrable silver-rimmed eyes.

She repressed a grin.

Of course, he’d never in this universe believe she’d caused the blizzard deliberately. But she had. It had all been part of the plan to seduce him. Lizzie couldn’t wait for him to see her without the glasses and the dowdy clothes she normally wore. As it was, the boots had had him flummoxed from the second she’d stepped into his condo.

“The snow’s so wet I wouldn’t be surprised if we lost power soon.”

Perfect.

Hot screwing happened in blackouts.

Both their glances swept to the wall of windows opposite and the white sheets of dense flakes cuffing the glass. Lizzie hoped the heat climbing her throat didn’t mean she was blushing. No man ever had this effect on her except Chad Lexington.

“What do you want to eat? I’m not sure how long The North Plains Kitchen on the lobby level will remain open and I don’t stock food beyond a stash of power bars.”

He didn’t glance her way but continued to study the falling snow.

Lizzie gnashed her teeth. Not once in the last five months of working together day after day had he shown an iota of interest in her as a woman. He baffled her.

In so many ways it felt as if they knew each other inside out. Chad was the only one on their five member team who got her sardonic sense of humor. She couldn’t begin to count the number of times they’d shared rolling-eyes smiles when no one else understood one of her mocking comments.

Yet, not once had he ever given her a male once over. And at least once every few hours, in the middle of some complex derivative analysis, some lurid fantasy of them naked and sweaty popped into her head.

She figured Chad and the other team members must believe she had a bladder issue because of her frequent bathroom visits. She, who once wore only thongs, had switched to old lady panties because of the embarrassing frequent stickiness between her thighs.

***

Hope that kick-started your week!

Cheers,

Jianne