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Wednesday, July 30, 2014

#CurvyGirls trilogy

Eliza knows she has a bit more plump on her frame than Craig's normal tall, ultra-skinny type and decides to school Mr. Grant on the pleasures of a full figure. She is in it for the fun, the sex, the bragging rights. But when she discovers he wants more, will she take that final leap? Or will Eliza bolt right back to the comfort of the uncomplicated fling? 

Curvy’s Cad is the third in my Curvy Girl trilogy. It's a 36,000 word m/f story with a sassy curvy woman and the debonair cad who wants her. Coming August 7!

Countess Curvy: A Curvy Girl's Earl Audrey Mills is in London to organize a charity fashion event, where she meets Duncan Collins, the Earl of Thronhill. Confident in her curves, Audrey doesn't expect Duncan to want more than a holiday fling. But when things begin to heat up, will she panic and run? Excerpt Buy Links: Amazon Amazon UK Amazon CA All Romance Barnes and Noble Kobo
Boss Likes Curves: A Curvy Girl's Billionaire VP of Development, Sabrina McKenna, has worked hard to get where she is with Gideon Hotels. When Gideon Marquez asks her to attend several important business functions, Sabrina agrees. It's only after 2 months of these functions that she realizes they've been dating. And she's fallen hard for her boss. Can Gideon convince her what he feels for her is forever? Or will Sabrina's insecurities make her flee? Excerpt Buy Links:


Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Interview with @MsMelissaGraves for her new release Bleeding Heart

A veteran writer of fan fiction known as MissBeizy to her online readers, Melissa Graves’ stories have thousands of followers. At age 13, she wrote her first work of fan-based fiction, and by age 16, had met her future husband in an online vampire fiction chat room. A fan of science fiction/fantasy, she has a degree in anthropology and a passion for good chocolate, amateur erotica and fan worlds that celebrate diversity. She is mother to two cats.
Follow Melissa Graves and learn more about her work at

What is your story's heat level? How do you approach the sex scenes?
On a scale of “the kids are home and I can read this” to “oh dear, I may have to schedule some alone time before I crack the spine on that one”, I'm going to go ahead and say that you should probably plan ahead!  The sex scenes in Bleeding Heart are the result of two characters who are very much in love, but who also want each other more than they've wanted anyone else in their lives—they are full on, no holds barred romps.  I've always been a firm believer in explicit erotica combined with romance and story telling that makes you care about every moment those characters spend in bed, and Bleeding Heart is that and then some.  These men talk and fuck and fall in love like its their job.

How do you maintain activity as a writer when sitting at a desk all day?
My cats are very dedicated (someone has to keep refilling that kibble bowl).  No, but really—I spend a ridiculous amount of time on the computer, and it's really important to me to manage my mental time.  I make sure to have other things to do, whether it's chores or time with my husband or taking my eyes away from text and putting them on movie or a television show or a friend or a new restaurant.  Often, the only way that I can be productive as a writer is to stop writing and come back to it later.  I'm a night owl, but there's a certain point where your brain says “please, no more”, and you know you'll be useless if you don't learn to take a break.

What is it that you loved about the main characters in your story?
They're such a wonderful blend of different traits that it's a pleasure to write them.  I don't like writing in a vacuum where a story becomes an obvious expression of “This Is What I Believe In”—basically just an author using characters to express their take on the world and nothing else.  Kyle is broken and lost and looking for love and purpose.  Brian thinks that he has already found his purpose, that he knows who he is and what he contributes to the world, but then he meets Kyle and realizes he's been seeing things through rose-tinted glasses.  Elisa is a hardened, hard-working realist, but if not for Clara, who is a tough business woman with a sweet center, she may never have made it to where she is today.  They are a wonderful sampling of the human spectrum, despite most of them not being human at all!

What do you feel is your strongest type of writing? Humor? Angst? Confrontation scenes? Action? Sex? Sensuality? Sweet Romance? And why?
I often feel as if I'm an erotica writer with an action writer inside of her just dying to get out, which is funny because I always whine when I write action scenes and insist that I'm no good at them.  Sex is absolutely my primary joy to write, but when I hit my stride, ooh boy, action scenes!  Sensuality and sweet romance are like spices to me, adding layers to the erotic flavor profile of my stories.  But without a doubt, I am first and foremost an erotica author.  Nothing pleases me more than writing people enjoying sex, especially when they are experiencing something or someone new.

Are you social media savvy? If so what do you suggest for others? If not, why not?
In a lot of ways, no, because despite being in my thirties I sort of fell off of the social media bandwagon for a few years in my late twenties and missed a lot of the fun stuff.  But getting back into writing and fandom and jumping back onto several social media platforms has begun to change that for me.  Websites like Twitter and Facebook and Tumblr and Instagram are absolutely 100% vital to getting yourself and your work out there nowadays.  For others struggling with it, I say take it one website at a time.  Use the social media in ways that you are comfortable with, but most importantly—ask people for tips on how to use them!  Social media has become the vehicle by which most artists are getting themselves noticed and hopefully, eventually appreciated these days, and I think that trend is here to stay.

What are some things from your life or things you have observed that you've infused into your stories?
The “blood drinking as foreplay” thing, from start to finish, is something that I honed over years of role-playing on the Internet when I was a teenager.  Of course, blood drinking + sex is nothing new in literature/films/television—I'm not claiming credit for that!—but the specific kind of blood drinking that you read about in Bleeding Heart, with the localized anesthetic, the associated sexual euphoria, and the coagulant after the bleeding stops, as well as the way that the feeding creates a hunger for both the vampire and the human to do it again is the result of many nights spent in a chat room with the boy who would, twelve years later, become my husband, role-playing sex and blood drinking and all sorts of fantasy character madness.

If you had an unlimited budget, where would you like to visit for story-related research?
Bleeding Heart is set in Chicago, Illinois, so I'd love to spend some significant time there.  Urban settings are so much fun for vampire stories, but I'd also love to go overseas—London, Paris, Venice.  I've never been outside of the continental United States, so that would be a treat!

Any fun facts about the research for your book?
Well, I'm sure I'm on some sort of list somewhere, with all of the hours I spent Googling stuff about human anatomy and blood loss.  I'm not a murderer, I'm just doing research for a book!  (That's a bumper sticker, isn't it?  I really need to get one of those.)

Finally, tell us a little about your newest release!
Bleeding Heart is definitely an erotically-charged romance, but it's also the story of two very different young men meeting each other at interesting points in their lives.  Neither of them are really looking for love.  Kyle is a young, new vampire, and pretty lost—he'd be happy just to have a place to live, and isn't thinking about romance at all.  Brian is a medical student who is very close to finishing school, has a fairly settled life, and even though he hasn't had much luck with long-term boyfriends, he isn't hunting for one.  One day they look up and there they are, seeing each other through a glass window for the first time, and suddenly the whole course of their lives shift.  The question is: can they make it work?

Where to Buy: Interlude Press 

"I know," Kyle says apologetically. "I can't help it." He swallows. "I mean, it only happens when I—when—I get excited. Sorry. Just, missed you."
"You—you can." Heat pounds in Brian's cheeks.
Kyle goes still, panting against his skin. "W-what?"
"You can, if you want," Brian repeats. His body is aching all of the sudden, for something new, for something more, for something that they haven't done yet. He can feel it, simply at the idea—it has been since they started kissing, of course, but now it's fully awake and invested in the proceedings—against the front of his jeans. "You can."
"Have you ever—"
"No," Brian answers. It's impossible to think clearly with Kyle holding him against the door, with Kyle's head bent over his neck like that. He's so hard that his jeans are starting to hurt; the angle at which he's risen against them is uncomfortable, but he can't move. "Please." The anticipation is like ants beneath his skin, crawling and crawling and crawling. "Please."
Kyle kisses the half-numbed skin just inches off of Brian's neck. His fangs are fully distended now and Brian can feel them, smooth and hard as they brush his skin.
The need to feel the pain that he knows he'll feel, to feel opened, to feel his blood run past Kyle's eager lips is sudden and new. Kyle can and will drink from his body; Brian can let him do that, this is a thing that they can do together, and it is as exciting as it is frightening.
"You can," he repeats. He feels dizzy. "I want you to. Want to take care of you, please. Do it." His hands are shaking so hard that he can't even maintain a grip on Kyle's waist, but it doesn't matter; Kyle is supporting him.
"God," Kyle breathes, shaking, his lips damp as they pass over Brian's shoulder again and again. "Ever since you—that night with the wine glass, I—god, I've dreamed of your blood so many times."
"Please," Brian hisses, arousal pounding through his body. "Do it. Do it."

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Saturday, July 26, 2014

#NewRelease! In Your Corner by Sarah Castille (@sarah_castille)


"You have to go. I won't be able to control myself. I've wanted you so bad for so long and after I've been in the cage...I can't think straight." He gives a guttural groan and his fist clenches on my hip.

Primitive. Primal. His need speaks to me. I tighten my grip on his neck and rock up to kiss him. He takes over. His kiss is hard and demanding.

"Mine." His voice is raw, savage and for a moment I truly believe he may lose control.

He rules in the ring

Two years ago, Jake and Amanda were going hot and heavy. But when Jake wanted more, Amanda walked away. Jake immersed himself in mixed martial arts, living life on the edge. But that didn't dull the pain of Amanda's rejection-until a chance encounter throws them together.

A high-powered lawyer, Amanda was a no-strings-attached kind of girl. But two years after her breakup with Jake, she still hasn't found anyone who gets her heart pumping the way he did. And then he shows up in her boardroom, hot as sin and needing help...

But can he rule her heart?

Jake is darker, sexier, and impossible to resist. As their chemistry builds, Amanda's not sure if she can stay in control, or if she's finally willing to let him claim her body and soul.

Buy Links:

“Don’t move.”

Totally immersed in painting the cupboard, I freeze mid–paint stroke at the sound of Jake’s deep voice behind me.

“What? Am I doing something wrong?”

He closes the distance between us and runs his finger along the back waistband of my gym pants, sending delicious tingles up my spine. Then he slides his hands around my waist, bared by the rise of my T-shirt as I stretch to reach the top of the cupboard with my paintbrush.

“Yes. You look too damn sexy. Do you know what it does to a man when he catches a glimpse of something he isn’t meant to see?”

“I hope it makes him tell the woman she can call off the panic attack and drop her arm,” I mutter as I do just that. “I also hope it makes him decide his hands might be of better use somewhere other than around her waist.”

Jake slides his fingers around to my stomach, resting them just over my mound and his voice drops to a low growl. “I could make use of them here.”

“So says the man who turned down a good offer just the other night at Redemption.” I remove his hands and turn to face him, putting on a brave face while inside I seethe. Who does he think he is coming on to me after brushing me off?

“No games, Jake. You made your position clear. I got that. I’m not interested in being screwed around.”

He presses his hands against the cupboard on either side of my head, caging me with his body. “What are you interested in?”

“Moving on,” I say honestly.

His pulse throbs in his neck and his eyes harden. “With whom?”

“No one right now.”

He gives a satisfied grunt as if I had just cleared up a question in his mind. “Everyone is out back having a good time. You should be there too.”

“There’s a lot of work to do. I want to get it done. The faster I open shop, the faster I can start my lawsuit against Farnsworth.” I slip under his arm and edge along the counter.

“You’ve been working since six o’clock this morning.”

Grabbing a clean cloth from the counter, I make an effort to wipe the grease off my face. “I’m used to working twenty-hour days. I’m not afraid of hard work.” But I am afraid of mercurial fighters who run hot one minute and cold the next.

His face softens, and he takes the cloth from my hand and holds it under the tap. The pipes gurgle when he turns the rusty faucet and water gushes out, skimming over the cloth and trickling into the sink below. Without warning, he lifts me and settles me on the counter.

“You don’t have to work like that anymore.” His voice is calm, soothing. I am momentarily lulled out of work mode and into heat mode as he eases his hips between my legs and reaches to turn off the faucet. “It’s Saturday night. Time to relax and have fun.” With a firm hand, he cups my jaw and then wipes the cloth gently over my nose, forehead, and cheeks.

His gentle touch, the warmth of his hand, his breath, minty and sweet, and his hard body nestled between my thighs all converge in an unbearable rush of sensation. I grab his wrist, forcing his hand away.

“Jake…I’m good. Really. There’s so much to do. I’ll come out when I’m done and I’ve cleaned myself up.”

“I like you this way,” he murmurs. “You look…cute. Real.”


He brushes his thumb over my cheek. “Amanda without the armor. Your clothes, hair, makeup…nothing is perfect. It’s just the real you. I never got to see the real you before.”

Torn between being mortified and pleased, I reach for another cloth. “Real Amanda is covered in dirt and has holes in her sweats.”

He traces a finger down my throat to rest in the hollow at the base of my neck. The room heats to one hundred degrees, and if I’m not mistaken, I hear the sound of my blood boiling.

“I like holes in sweats.” His voice drops, husky and low, and his finger continues its downward journey into the vee of my shirt.


He traces lightly over the crescent of my breast. “I like dirty girls,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. “I can’t stay away.”

Oh God. Every bit of warmth rushes to my center as his deep, sensual voice ignites one of my dark fantasies. Jake, straddling my bound body, growling commands, telling me what he’s going to do to me in the filthiest language I know. A soft moan escapes my lips and we’re back on the roller coaster again.

“This game you’re playing confuses me.” His heart beats strong against my palm when I lay my hand over his chest.

“Me too.”

“Then what are you doing?”

His eyes take on a feral gleam and my breasts tingle.

“Playing dirty,” he growls. Tangling his hand in my hair, he tugs my head back, exposing my throat to the heated slide of his lips. “Sometimes you have to stop thinking too much and just go with it.”

My breath comes in short pants as he sucks gently on the pulse at the base of my throat. Barely able to form a coherent thought for the pounding of blood in my temples, I scramble for sanity. “There’s too much between us to just go with it. We need to talk…”

His hand closes in my hair, twisting roughly. “Lawyers talk. You don’t look like a lawyer now. You look fucking sexy, and your mouth is all lush and pink and needing to be kissed. You want to talk, Amanda, or you want that kiss?” He nips the hollow at the base of my neck.

Pleasure and pain meld together and I whimper as a heated rush of sensation floods my veins. “Kiss.”

Jake smiles. “My dirty girl wants a dirty kiss.” Holding my face, he slants his mouth over mine and kisses me.

Soft kiss. Sweet kiss. Warm, firm lips tasting faintly of coffee. His five o’clock shadow brushes my chin as his tongue eases my lips open to stroke against mine. My body melts against him as he explores my mouth, leaving nothing untouched. Tongues wind and tangle. Two years of fantasies coalesce in a single rasping breath.

“’S not so dirty,” I mumble against his lips.

“Oh, you don’t know how dirty I can be.” Jake grips my hair and tugs my head back with a firm, hard yank, sending little bolts of lightning straight to my core. Then he kisses me hard and fast. Rough. His teeth scrape my bottom lip as his tongue dives deep, filling me, taking what I have to give and demanding more. The pounding of my heart shifts from lust to fear as he consumes me, and for a moment I worry he has forgotten I need to breathe.

When he breaks the kiss, I draw in a long, ragged breath. “You never kissed me like that before.”

“You were never like this before,” he murmurs, his fingers easing up my shirt, his thumb tracing over the crescent of my breasts. “Raw and open, vulnerable, needing my help. So fucking real.”

My breath catches in my throat as he explores, cupping and squeezing my breasts and then teasing my nipples through my lace bra until they are tight, aching peaks.

“My clothes. Take them off.”


New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author, Sarah Castille, worked and traveled abroad before trading her briefcase and stilettos for a handful of magic beans and a home near the Canadian Rockies. She writes erotic contemporary romance and romantic suspense featuring blazingly hot alpha heroes and the women who tame them.

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Other books in the series:

The first book in the series (all standalone stories), Against the Ropes, was a Publishers Weekly Top Ten Pick for Romance & Erotica for Fall 2013 and was also a #1 Erotic Romance Best seller on Amazon. It also won the JABBIC contest for sexiest cover.

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

#Excerpt Curvy's Cad: A #CurvyGirls Mistake?

The cover models for Curvy's Cad are Billy and Sheena. They were lovely to work with and don't they look great together?


“You’re a sadistic bastard, you know that?”
Eliza Lyons huffed, annoyed with Craig and annoyed with the damn key card she inserted for the fifth damn time into the slot. Finally she got that green light. With a triumphant sound, she pushed opened the hotel room door and jerked her suitcase behind her.
Naturally, Craig followed.
“For what?” Craig Grant looked entirely too relaxed for the conversation she was about to have with him. Relaxed and smug, she thought as the door banged closed behind him. “For telling you the truth?”
“For taking pleasure in telling me the truth,” she shot back.
As she snapped around to look at Craig, who didn’t seem ready to leave anytime soon, Eliza caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the dresser. Great. Her hair, currently copper, looked like she’d taken style advice from a porcupine. She closed her eyes and reached for a well of sanity she knew had to lurk somewhere inside. With a sigh, she dropped her purse on one of the beds and abandoned her suitcase in the middle of the room.
Digging into a pocket for a hair band, she turned and tried to ignore Craig leaning against the wall. His arms crossed over his ridiculously muscular chest, one eyebrow raised over very dark brown eyes that watched her with amusement, and his dark hair was perfectly styled. No one should look that good.
Not even in the Hamptons.