View Full Version : 24th - Erotic Chat with Cobblestone Press Authors
June 23rd, 2008, 11:47 PM
Join us all day long with the authors of Cobblestone Press as they share those juicy tidbits about their books and share those naughty covers Gumpoppinfool
June 24th, 2008, 11:43 AM
Hi there! I'm just wandering out of bed... I was up last night doing promotional stuff for my first book, which comes out on Friday! :D
So...is this where I'm supposed to be? I'd love to chat about books and give away free stuff!
June 24th, 2008, 11:47 AM
oh free stuff and books my 2 favourate things :huepfen017: I've got a parents evening at school to go to in a bit but I'll be back later
June 24th, 2008, 12:58 PM
Well, now that I've had my morning coffee, I guess I'll post a little something about my upcoming release. :D (And maybe I'll find a new, very racy excerpt to post that hasn't been released before!)
Claire is tired of pretending to be polite, docile...human. She wants to unleash the animal inside her, and she wants to do it with a man who can really handle her. Then she meets Lars, a dangerous, sexy alpha, in a smoky bar. They share some moonshine, a potent shifter aphrodisiac, and have blisteringly hot sex.
Their one night of intoxicated passion leaves her wanting more, but Lars isn't interested in a woman who can only let loose while under the influence. Claire must then decide whether she's ready--and willing--to truly embrace her wild side.
FUN MOONSHINE LINKS
Read an excerpt: http://moirarogers.com/?q=node/109
Watch the trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qwh0p-wyh2U
Enter to win a free copy: http://moirarogers.com/?q=node/182
Get free promo items: http://moirarogers.com/?q=node/184
Read the free prequel: http://moirarogers.com/?q=node/126
Join my announcement list for a chance to win a copy of Moonshine...and for the first chance to win all of my upcoming releases. (I'm a busy girl who signed her ninth contract last night, so there will be plenty of free books to be had!) http://groups.yahoo.com/group/moirarogers/join
I'm off to pick out a suitably naughty excerpt...something never before seen, just for you guys!
June 24th, 2008, 12:59 PM
Hi there! I'm just wandering out of bed... I was up last night doing promotional stuff for my first book, which comes out on Friday! :D
So...is this where I'm supposed to be? I'd love to chat about books and give away free stuff!
Yep! This is the place. Congrats on your book:huepfen017:
June 24th, 2008, 01:01 PM
Yep! This is the place. Congrats on your book:huepfen017:
Thank you!! I'm so excited I don't know what to do with myself. :D
June 24th, 2008, 01:59 PM
Thank goodness for calendar reminders! I'd almost forgotten.
I'm Ericka Scott and I write Seductive Suspense. I have four books available through Cobblestone Press with another release, The Vampire Oracle: Chalice, coming out in July.
This is one of my favorite covers. I simply love the vampire's reflection in the cup.
June 24th, 2008, 02:07 PM
And to go with that cover, here's a sneak peek excerpt from The Vampire Oracle: Chalice by Ericka Scott
This excerpt is rated R:
Fighting back a swell of nausea, Sapphire watched the shadow under the door recede. Whoever had attacked her apparently wanted her alive, and not dead. She pressed a hand to her temple and shuddered when it came away sticky with blood. Or perhaps he just wanted her to die slowly. She hadn’t lost a lot of blood, but being unable to manufacture more of the precious life force put a crimp in her situation. She needed to feed.
She knew she had recovered from the blow to her head much faster than her attacker had anticipated. Then she’d hidden in her closet. Now, if she could just get him to open the door…
She rested her ear against the thick wooden panel, hoping to get a clue as to his location. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on picking up the tiniest of sounds, and was rewarded when she heard a flurry of noise. Running footsteps, a slamming door, and then…silence. Had her attacker been disturbed? Or had he just left her to die? She slowly twisted the door knob and pushed, but the door remained stubbornly closed.
It was insane. No doors in her penthouse locked of their own accord. Access to all rooms, heating, air-conditioning, and security—indeed, absolutely everything inside the apartment was controlled by her assistant, Van Helsing. She had always known people were not a good security risk. Someone downstairs had to have let the intruder onto her floor and disabled the alarm when the security system was breached. That’s why she’d created Van.
He was the perfect assistant, simply because he wasn’t human. Van was an artificially intelligent computer program she’d designed five years ago. No way would he ever turn against her. Perhaps he thought that by keeping her locked away, he was keeping her safe.
She raised her fists to start banging and shouting for help, when the small amount of light seeping under the door dimmed.
Damn it. The intruder hadn’t left after all.
Her first moan was unintentional. But the intruder paused, as if he were listening. So she moaned again.
"Come closer, you bastard, and open the door. I’ll give you a taste of pain," she murmured under her breath. Then she moaned again, theatrically.
This time, she clearly heard someone approach the door.
She put her hand on the knob and felt it turn. Whoever was on the other side was strong; the door shuddered. But it obstinately stayed shut.
"Well then, don’t open, damn it." A male voice cursed.
Sapphire went still. She knew that voice. Drake Chastain? If Drake had broken into her apartment and hit her on the head with a baseball bat, then he was surely responsible for the disappearances and deaths of all those other women. The world spun dizzily for a moment. But if he were responsible, then she was wrong about everything. In which case, being locked up was the safest place for her for the time being.
The door shuddered under her hand again.
"Oh, please," Sapphire murmured. "Don’t open."
To her surprise and chagrin, the door swung wide and sunlight flashed in, blinding her.
Although she couldn’t see, she did the only thing that came to mind. She lunged out, fangs bared, and prepared to dispense with her attacker before he killed her first.
A spitting wildcat was Drake’s only thought as he held the tall, thin redhead at arm’s length. Once again, he was glad for his height and long reach. A hurricane brewed in the depths of Sapphire’s sea-green eyes, and with each toss of her head a sinister hiss slid through her gleaming fangs. She kicked out at him with her long legs and managed to land a few blows dangerously close to his balls.
He didn’t want to risk her disabling him, so he tossed her into the middle of the bed. "Damn it woman, I’m here to rescue you."
He braced himself for impact when she pulled up into a crouch. She stared at him, her breath coming in harsh gasps. That’s when he saw blood and a fast-coloring bruise on the side of her beautiful face. Instinctively, he reached out to push her long curly hair aside and take a closer look at her injuries.
She flinched, as if she expected him to hit her.
"What happened?" he whispered. "You’re hurt."
"As if you don’t know. You broke in and attacked me."
"No, I didn’t. " Drake shook his head. "Your apartment security had already been breached when I arrived. You can ask Chester; he’ll back me up." Drake hoped so, anyway.
"Chester? Management fired him six months ago."
"What? But—I –" Caught off guard, Drake motioned behind him, as if he could miraculously conjure up the doorman to substantiate his story. When he looked back at Sapphire, she was smiling. "What?"
It might have been nothing, but her smile changed her entire demeanor. To his relief, he realized she was no longer afraid of him.
"Well, if you didn’t break in, who did?"
"You didn’t see who attacked you?"
"Nope." Sapphire shook her head, and then grimaced with pain. "I only heard the whoosh of air right before something hit me. I take it you didn’t see anyone, either?"
"I wasted the opportunity. When I first came in, I thought there might be someone in the kitchen, but I came to the bedroom instead. As soon as my back was turned, I heard someone running. Then the front door slammed."
"You didn’t go after them?" Sapphire’s voice sounded odd, and Drake shot a sharp look in her direction.
"Are you okay?"
She raised her hand to her forehead, and before Drake could cross the room, she fell, hitting her head on the footboard of the bed.
He lifted her off the floor and placed her in the center of her bed. Then he ran a hand across the back of his neck. He recognized her symptoms and knew what she needed. Blood. She’d obviously lost just enough to make her weak. She’d need to feed…and soon.
His cock hardened as he looked at her. She was dressed for bed in a filmy white nightgown that showed off more than it hid from view. He could see her nipples through the fabric, and at the junction of her thighs was a mound of darkness he knew hid the pink lips of her sex. The soft curve of her breasts rose and fell with each breath she took. It had been over two years, but he could still remember the feel of their weight in his hands. He ached to touch her, to taste her. To fuck her. All he had to do was climb onto the bed with her. She needed him.
No. He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned away. She didn’t need him. She needed blood. Anyone’s blood. She had a stable of young studs on whom she fed regularly. It was also a given that her nightly feeding was probably accompanied by a generous dessert of sex. Yet the thought of her being with someone else, even if there were no feelings involved, sickened him.
She had left him. He was the one who had called her, sent flowers, and tried everything to win her back. But she had spurned all his efforts. So what made him think she’d want him now? Hell, just a few minutes ago, she’d seemed convinced he was the one who’d attacked her.
Yet…he glanced back over at her thin build, and his heart tugged painfully in his chest. He still loved her. It would only take one word from her, and he’d offer up his neck and his heart.
Sapphire stirred and moaned, her hand fluttering to her head. Then she opened her eyes and looked at him.
Hell, it didn’t even take a word.
Copyright 2008 - Ericka Scott
June 24th, 2008, 02:30 PM
Excerpt #1 from Moonshine
Claire knew she stuck out like a sore thumb from the moment she walked into the bar, and realized it had nothing to do with the fact that she looked like shit. Dos Culebras was not a bar women usually entered alone unless they were professionals. The few non-hookers in residence belonged to men frightening enough to convince the rest of the clients to leave them alone.
She was not a professional. Worse than that, she was a shapeshifter who challenged every man in the bar just by walking into it. Hell, she wanted to be a challenge. She needed to meet another shapeshifter tonight. Someone like her, who understood her strength. Who could handle her strength. Someone who wouldn't be afraid.
She heard her ex-boyfriend's voice as she took her beer to a small table in the corner. It's not you, Claire. You need someone...like you. Oh, he'd been full of false sympathy when he'd broken up with her. He'd pretended it wasn't because she'd proven herself to be stronger than he was—yet again.
Humans are fragile. A morbid thought, but so true. Humans were fragile, and she had to stop wanting to be with one. Over twenty years had passed since magic had first crashed into science and bled into everyday life. The terror had finally subsided, and lots of men now found it hip to have a supernatural girlfriend. At least until she embarrasses them in front of the boys by being stronger than they are.
Human men. Their egos were as fragile as their bodies.
She was halfway through her beer before she realized she had attracted a stranger’s attention. He sat across the bar from her, in a corner booth, with his back against the wall and one booted foot propped on the cracked vinyl in front of him. A cigarette dangled from his mouth, and a long-neck hung loosely from his fingers. Tattoos encircled his arms, tribal designs that stood out against his skin and disappeared beneath the sleeves of his T-shirt. He looked dangerous. Perfect.
Even at that distance, his eyes bored into hers. The intensity of his unwavering gaze made her uncomfortable. She had no problem recognizing another shapeshifter. Not a wolf, which she might have expected, but a coyote. Like me.
She met his gaze unflinchingly, knowing he wouldn't be able to resist the challenge of her presence.
You'll do, whoever you are.
After a moment he rose, one fluid motion bringing him out of the booth. He stalked towards her, his movements at once graceful and dangerous, and she couldn't take her eyes away from him. He stopped at the corner of the bar and slid onto a seat. For a minute, Claire thought he wouldn't speak. Then his icy blue eyes softened, and he said in a low voice, "You look like shit."
"Thank you. I feel like shit," she replied quietly. "That's why I have a beer."
He paused for a moment, then set down his bottle. "I know who you are, you know."
It figured. Coyotes weren't rare, but there were only ten female coyotes in town compared to the fifty or so males. She turned her eyes back to the man and ran them over him in an assessing manner that bordered on insulting. "Really? Haven't seen you in any of my classes. You don't look like the college type."
He just grinned, and the simple action transformed his face from broodingly dangerous to dangerously handsome. "Touchy bitch."
"Yeah, maybe." She finished the rest of her bottle and set it on the table. "My boyfriend just dumped my ass because I'm tougher than he is. I'm feeling a little touchy."
He stared at her for a second. "Beer ain't taking the edge off of that, doll. You do shots?"
She slanted him a look, wondering if he was the type of man who could find her something better than alcohol. Maybe the tricky little magical drug making the rounds now. Custom designed for shapeshifters, it provided the adrenaline rush of a shift, along with a healthy dose of desire. Right now, she wanted something to remind herself just how far she was from actually being human.
Of course, she wasn't exactly sure how to ask him if he happened to have a bottle of moonshine in his pocket. So instead, she settled for a vague reply. "If I wanted to do the stuff I usually do, I wouldn't be here."
He nodded. "Hey, Wanda. Give us a couple of shots of Johnnie Walker, yeah?"
Claire waited until the woman set a shot glass in front of her. Then she picked it up and tossed it back, coughing a little as the liquid burned its way down her throat.
When she managed to blink away the reflexive tears that sprang to her eyes, she found him watching her. "It's a long way from milk and cookies."
“Yeah.” He threw back his own shot without blinking. "I'm Lars."
"Lars." Claire dropped the shot glass back on to the bar. "Hi. I'm Claire."
June 24th, 2008, 02:36 PM
Excerpt #2 from Moonshine
He'd thought she might balk at riding on the back of his bike, especially with both of them high as kites, but she just accepted the helmet he offered and climbed on. They sped out of the city and into the countryside, her arms wrapped firmly around his waist. He could feel her heart pounding even through his jacket, but she didn't make a sound.
He clung to her hand as he nudged open the door of his tiny trailer and pulled her inside. "Come on in. Want another beer?"
"Sure." She wandered toward the table, running her fingers absently over its edge before touching one of the pieces of the radio he had spread out over it. "You fix stuff?"
"Simple electronics. " He shoved a laundry basket out of the way before opening the fridge and pulling out two bottles. "I’m not so good with computerized stuff."
“I want more of the moonshine.” She accepted the beer from him, her eyes unreadable as she drank half of it in one long pull.
He eyed her for a long moment, then nodded. She might not be used to it, but it wasn't going to kill her. "You can have another cap."
Claire poured it herself this time, accepting the flask from him with a dangerous smile and unscrewing the lid. The scent of moonshine hit him, sending hot excitement racing through his body as she measured out the liquid and tossed it back. She handed him the flask and relaxed against the couch, one hand falling to rest above her head.
"Fuck..." Her eyes closed, and her other hand slid to her stomach.
He smelled her arousal, heard the way her heart beat just a little too quickly. He took another hit of the moonshine himself before screwing on the cap, swearing when heat flooded his body.
Claire moaned, and her head lolled back on the couch. "That’s the best feeling I’ve ever had."
He grinned, then groaned as the rush overwhelmed him. "You ain't seen nothing yet, doll." He knelt in front of the couch and tugged at her legs, moving her closer to its edge. He knew just how intense the slightest touch would be right now, so he wasn't surprised when she moaned again the second he touched her.
Claire lifted her other hand over her head, wrapping both of them around the back of the couch, as if she needed to cling to something. "How is it going to possibly get any better?"
Her nipples were hard, pressing against her T-shirt. He reached up and pinched one. "Haven't decided yet."
"Fuck!" She slid into his lap, straddling his legs with her upper body still arched over the seat of the couch. Her hands curled into the hem of her T-shirt, and she tore it in her haste to drag it over her head.
"That's how it gets better," he said, tearing one of the straps of her plain bra. The fabric peeled down easily, freeing one breast. She ground her hips against his with another moan and snapped the other strap, leaving her bra wrapped uselessly around her torso.
When she moved it was fast, her hands coming up to his shoulders. She shoved off the couch and pushed him back on the floor. His head knocked against the TV stand, but he barely felt it. All of his attention was focused on Claire and the heat coming off of her.
She planted her hands on either side of his head, her hair tumbling around them as she rubbed her body against his. "I can't hurt you, can I?"
"You can try." He stretched up and bit her nipple.
Claire hissed in a sharp breath, grabbed the edge of his shirt, and yanked it hard enough to tear it. "I'd rather fuck you," she said, making it obvious she thought the two were mutually exclusive.
Lars let her open his shirt, then flipped her onto her back, pinning her to the floor. "Why not both?"
She struggled to free her hands—really struggling, instead of just giving him token resistance—and moaned when he tightened his fingers around her wrists. "Isn't that a little twisted?"
The moonshine still raged through his system, making his blood boil. His cock hardened, and he ground it against her. "Who gives a fuck? I like it, and so do you."
Claire bucked her hips, not hard enough to throw him off but with considerable force. Then she twisted her head and bit his arm, her accompanying snarl one of arousal instead of anger.
Lars hissed, first in pain, then in laughter. "You can do better than that." He bent his head and dragged his tongue up the side of her neck, all the way to her ear. "Play with me."
June 24th, 2008, 03:10 PM
your books sound wonderfull ladies
June 24th, 2008, 03:25 PM
June 24th, 2008, 03:56 PM
June 24th, 2008, 05:06 PM
Here's an excerpt from my most recent release from Cobblestone Press.
Fool's Gold came out in January.
It was the last pack trip of the season, finally.
Although Rae Morgan would be the last to admit it, she was already tired of leading pack-ins to the mountains. There was so much raw beauty in the Superstitions, but nine out of the ten people on the trip would notice none of it. For they were all looking for just one thing. Gold.
"Champ’s gone a little lame," her uncle, Pete Morgan, remarked. "Perhaps you should take Max instead."
She gritted her teeth and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. His wrinkled face was devoid of any emotion. Looking at him, no one would guess he was only one-eighth Apache; he looked like an elderly tribal leader. He acted like one as well. At Fool’s Gold, his word was the law. However, there was no way in hell she was going to ride the ancient pony, Max, while her customers rode on younger, faster horses.
"I did notice Champ was lame this morning. I planned to ride Sunny instead."
Why did he have to question every decision she made? Damn it, she was an Army veteran, twenty-nine years old, not a child anymore. Even as her gaze roved over the supplies, she could feel her uncle standing over her shoulder, checking right along with her.
Rae felt her shoulders tense as she waited for his expected veto. Sunny was young, high spirited, and a challenge to ride. If he insisted she ride Max, she was going to lose it.
To her surprise, he gave her a slow nod. "Sunny’s a good choice" He cleared his throat and added, "I have your roster. Looks like your guests might be more of a handful than your horse."
Rae turned to her uncle. Her smile dimmed when she saw his face. She grimaced. "Not lots of little kids I hope."
"No, even worse, cancellations. You only have four people this time around."
"What’s going to be hard about that? Cooking for five instead of eleven is easier in my opinion," Rae said.
"Not when two of the four are your ex-husband and his blushing bride."
Rae swore under her breath. "You are kidding, right?"
"Nope." Pete waved the roster at her. "I’ll take this pack-in for you."
"No." She shook her head. "I’ll do it."
Why in the hell was Jason showing up here? Morbid curiosity? She was sure rumors of her injuries had made the rounds. Did he feel as if he had to come and confirm it all himself? Men in the Army were worse than a bunch of old women when it came to gossip. Well, she’d give him an eyeful if that’s what he wanted. Then he could go home with his perfect wife to count his blessings. Jerk.
As if Pete had read her mind, he said, "I don’t think it’s you he’s coming to see. Old Missus Jack said this Sue Ellen woman is related to Sinclair Hawke. I was wondering if that old map had finally come to light," Pete said with an offhand manner.
"Do you really think so? I thought the map was just some old legend. I mean, if there really was a map, why didn’t Sinclair find the gold?"
Her uncle’s voice dropped to little more than a whisper. "I’ve heard tell the guardians killed him."
"The Apache guardians? Really, you’re digging up lots of old rumors today." Rae shook her head. "You’d think everyone would have figured out if no one’s found the treasure by now, it probably doesn’t exist."
Pete gave her a quizzical look. "Just because it’s not been found don’t mean it don’t exist."
She gaped at him. "Don’t tell me you believe in those old wives’ tales?"
He just shrugged in reply and gave her a wink.
Rae would have pursued the argument further, but she happened to glance down at the roster names, Jason and his wife Sue Ellen, a Marcus Thompson and…She sucked in her breath as the name on the line below came into sharp focus.
Could there be more than one person by that name? Perhaps there was more to this rumor of a map. Mica was descended from the Hawkes who had lived in Stallion Springs for generations. If Sue Ellen was descended from Sinclair Hawke, it’d be quite a coincidence if they were on the pack trip together by accident.
Her heart beat a little faster just thinking about Mica and what it would be like to see him again after all these years. She’d met him at the University of Texas, a far cry from Stallion Springs, Arizona. Even though they hailed from the same hometown, she never deigned to make his acquaintance until the fateful day she’d watched him play a scrimmage in front of the dorms. Skins and shirts. With his dirty blonde hair and light brown eyes, no one would have guessed he was half Apache. Not until he took to the football field. His determination and ruthless play made him stand out from the rest of the team. Rae had been only one in a group of admiring girls and had no thoughts of him noticing her. After a particularly dramatic touchdown, he had tossed the ball to her. Eyes sparkling, he’d urged her to toss it back to him. She did and, after he caught it, he’d spiked it and did a high-stepping dance around it, complete with war whoops.
She had seen him around campus occasionally, and they even had one class together. But she had been too driven to get good grades and graduate to pay too much attention to any man. Even if he was Mica Hawke.
She graduated with honors. Instead of pursuing a corporate job in some big city, she craved adventure. So she enlisted in the Army, determined never to go back to the quiet life in Stallion Springs. In retrospect, standing alone at the bus terminal the day after graduation was a pitiful way to start a new life—all alone with only a limp duffel bag to keep her company. The bus had been announced, and she had picked up her bag and walked into a hard body. Even before she saw his face, she’d known who it was. She opened her mouth to apologize and gasped when his mouth came down forcefully on hers, his tongue stabbing deep into her mouth.
Her brain turned to mush, and she melted into him. He was hard everywhere, his arms, his chest, and his erection pressed into the softness of her belly. Too soon the kiss was over. He smoothed her hair back from her face and looked at her as if he were memorizing every detail of her face. Although she hoped he would kiss her again, he didn’t. Without saying a word, he picked up her duffle bag and took her hand to lead her to the bus. She wasn’t sure how she walked over to the bus or up the steps for his kiss had shattered her to her core. She couldn’t even trust her voice enough to whisper goodbye. When she finally staggered to an empty seat and collapsed against the hot vinyl, she desperately hoped he hadn’t seen the tears in her eyes.
Even now the thought of him and his kiss caused her traitorous body to surge with heat. Her nipples hardened, and she felt a flame of desire ignite low in her belly. Heavens, what in the world was she thinking? He was probably married by now with a passel of kids. Whatever desire he’d once felt for her would surely be gone.
If it wasn’t, it would be the first time he took a look at the left side of her body.
* * * * *
Mica Hawke tipped his hat over his eyes and feigned sleep.
When he had awakened from his dream a week ago, the phone had been ringing by his bedside. Upon answering it, a woman’s nasally voice introduced herself as Sue Ellen Mateo, Mica’s long-lost cousin. The story she had told him about uncovering the map in an old family Bible sounded far-fetched enough to be true. But was it? Well, there was only one way to find out. He would have to go to Arizona and have a look at the map.
The van hit a bump, and he shifted position so he could study the other occupants of the shuttle van from the airport. Sitting across from him, an attractive couple pored over a hand-drawn map and talked about gold. He knew who they were, Sue Ellen and her husband Jason. At the moment, they didn’t have any idea who he was, and he wanted to keep it that way for a bit longer. The map looked authentic enough, and the couple certainly treated it as if they believed it was genuine. It lent credibility to Sue Ellen’s story but didn’t rule out the chance the couple was perpetrating a hoax directed at Fool’s Gold. As a forensic document examiner, he’d seen more than his fair share of authentic-looking forgeries and interviewed con men and women who were better actors than any Hollywood star. Still, his gut feel was this was the map, and his fingers itched to hold it.
The man sitting behind the couple did nothing to hide his interest in the map. He sat high in his seat peering over their shoulders. Hawke didn’t like the speculative gleam in the older man’s eyes. Gold lust was something many men caught and some killed over.
The shuttle driver was giving a dissertation on the story of Joe Waltz and the Lost Dutchman Mine. The driver’s voice was monotonous, but Mica listened anyway. The subject was more than appropriate since the van’s destination was a place called Fool’s Gold in the town of Stallion Springs. There, for an ungodly sum of money, he was going to take an uncomfortable three-day horseback ride into the mountains. All because of a dream.
He wasn’t sure who was the biggest fool—him or the treasure hunters who’d gone before him.
"Are you sure we can convince her to let us follow the map?" The woman asked in a high, nasal whine. She was pretty in a blonde vapid sort of way, but her voice put his teeth on edge. The man sitting beside her didn’t seem fazed by it at all. Mica bit back a grin and questioned whether it was because the man didn’t mind or because he wasn’t listening.
"Of course she will," the man said. When the woman shot him a dubious look, he quickly added. "Well, I was married to her once, you know."
"So, you’ve told me."
"Besides, after what happened in Iraq, I’m sure she’ll do anything to get her hands on some money. The VA is notoriously cheap about paying for prosthetics. She also got burned. I’m sure she has some horrific scars she’d like to have fixed."
"I don’t want to talk about her anymore." The woman tossed her hair over her shoulder. "So, what is the price of gold?"
"About six hundred dollars."
"A pound?" The woman asked.
"No, an ounce."
"Oh!" The woman gave a sexy shiver, and her blue eyes sparkled.
The brakes on the bus hissed as they pulled up in front of a low adobe building.
"Welcome to Stallion Springs," the driver said.
Mica tipped up his hat, reached down for his duffle bag, then stared out the window. Oh, God, it was her!
In a flash, he was back in college. He’d had a hard-on for the pretty brunette from the first time he saw her in chemistry class. It was an open lecture so, over the next few weeks, he timed his arrival so he could walk behind her into class just to watch the sexy twitch of her ass. All semester he tried to work up the nerve to ask her out and failed. Rae Morgan. Even her name made his heart beat faster. If he closed his eyes, he could almost remember how her lips felt under his when he’d kissed her. Despite his shyness, he had managed to kiss her…once.
He had been passing her dorm on Sunday morning when he saw her come out the front door. It was the day after graduation, and everyone one else seemed to be packing up cars and vans with their belongings. All she carried was a duffle bag. He followed her on a whim and had been disconcerted when they ended up at the bus terminal. He watched her buy a ticket with his heart frozen like a stone in his chest. She was leaving! He didn’t have a clue what to do, but he knew he couldn’t just walk away…so he had kissed her. Did she even remember after all these years?
He took a deep breath and prepared to step out of the van. She hadn’t seen him yet. There was an air of seriousness about her as she stood at the foot of the van steps with a clipboard in her hand. Her long black hair had been cut short and now swung around her shoulders with a sassy flip at the ends. Taking a closer look at her, he realized she’d filled out in all the right places. She had large breasts, a trim waist, and flat stomach. Did she still walk with a tantalizing twitch of her ass? He’d definitely be watching to find out. Her eyes were still the same deep blue he remembered, but they weren’t wide and innocent anymore.
She’d grown from a girl to a woman. Well, he’d grown, too. No longer shy and awkward, he made a vow. This time he’d get more than just her name and one measly kiss.
Copyright 2008 - Ericka Scott
June 24th, 2008, 06:03 PM
I run a contest every month at my website where I ask people to write silly little poems out of my website keywords from the previous month. The winner is picked by a guest judge, who bestows one of his or her new releases upon the winner. I pony up a gift certificate to Cobblestone Press to add to the prize package, so it's fun to win!
This month's contest is almost up, but there's not a lot of competition so far, so get over there and enter if you want some free stuff! :D
Click here to enter! (http://www.moirarogers.com/?q=node/183)
June 24th, 2008, 06:21 PM
I've got Seduction 101. I loved that book. Eric was so cute!
June 24th, 2008, 06:27 PM
I've got Seduction 101. I loved that book. Eric was so cute!
Have you read any of Moira Reid's Cobblestone Press releases? I loved her Valentine's Day book... Paid in Full. :D That and Ericka's Postcards from the Dead are two of the first books I read from Cobblestone!
Of course, now I have a big long list of favorites. :D I'm getting published alongside some talented authors!
June 24th, 2008, 06:40 PM
I just got in, and I have to say that the excerpts are really Yummy!:orange:
June 24th, 2008, 07:44 PM
Since Moira mentioned Postcards from the Dead, I'll post an excerpt. I'm waiting with bated breath and crossed fingers that Deanna Lee will accept the second book, Phone Calls from the Dead - which is Rosalie's book.
Music spilled out into the street from the open front door of Dino’s, a popular nightspot. Inside, televised sporting events shown on screens over the bar vied with the music played much too loud upstairs.
The bar was packed, and he was late. Drew felt a momentary flutter of panic when he walked in the door. What if she didn’t come? Then, an even worse thought assailed him. What if she did?
Rosalie and Kyle were sitting at a table by the bar. Sitting, facing the door, was his date. He’d expected her to be tall, thin, and red-headed like her sister, Rosalie. The woman listening intently to Kyle was curvaceous, and oh-my-god gorgeous. He sauntered through the crowd to their table, reminding himself this was supposed to be a date, not an interview.
Kyle introduced him to Cassie, and Drew found himself mesmerized by her eyes. They were the color of dark chocolate. And when she smiled, stars sparkled in the liquid depths of her eyes and two deep dimples winked in her cheeks. She might work in the morgue, but he wouldn’t have guessed it. The freckles generously sprinkled across her nose gave evidence she spent time in the outdoors. Even the tips of her strawberry blond hair were bleached gold by the sun.
He didn’t know whether to shake her hand or just nod a greeting. For the first time in his life, he was struck speechless. His mouth was dry, and his tongue felt as if it was stuck to the roof of his mouth. Sitting down, he reached for the pitcher of margaritas in the middle of the table and poured himself one.
"I’ll take a refill." Cassie leaned into him, and her left breast pressed against his arm. It was like being struck by lightning. A jolt of lust shot straight to his cock. Good thing he was sitting, or he’d have been embarrassed to have his pants tent around his erection.
"Another one?" Rosalie asked, her hazel eyes wide. "That’ll make three."
"I’m not driving home; Drew will drive me." Cassie gave Drew a wink.
"Besides, you’re always telling me to cut loose and enjoy myself. So, I am and I think Drew here is the man to help me with it."
Drew laughed. "So, Cassie. Kyle tells me you work for the city?"
Cassie shifted her seat closer to Drew’s. "I don’t want to talk about work. Why don’t you ask me about the summer Rosalie and I swam nekkid in the neighbor’s pool."
Rosalie looked like she’d swallowed an olive and Drew bit back a smile.
It was right at that moment a group of college-age guys, admirers of Kyle’s, gathered around the table. One of them asked Cassie to dance.
Drew wasn’t prepared for the myriad of emotions that played across his heart when the boy, no, make that young man, took Cassie’s hand and led her to the small square dance floor. In her jeans and striped blue silk shirt, she looked out of place among all the glammed up girls dressed to impress.
Then, she started to dance. Drew couldn’t tear his eyes away from her as she gyrated and shimmied in time to the music. Dirty dancing at its finest. Cassie and the guy were practically having sex on the dance floor.
Drew clenched and unclenched his fists. It took all his restraint not to pull the guy off her and beat him to a bloody pulp. He kept having visions of Cassie, naked and hot, in his arms. He was supposed to be there to get information out of Cassie, not to fuck her. But somehow, the message hadn’t gotten from his brain to his cock. Would the music ever end?
He caught the look of astonishment on Rosalie’s face. Obviously, this wasn’t the Cassie she knew. But she was one he definitely wanted to get to know better. On an impulse, he stood up from the table, and strode into the midst of hot, sweaty dancers. With one move, he pulled Cassie into his arms, tight against his body. Drew shot an apologetic smile at the young guy she had been dancing with and whirled her away. He pulled her to him, and her full breasts pushed into his chest. Swaying back and forth in time to the music, he felt her tight puckered nipples through his shirt. He looked down at her. Her eyes were closed and a smile danced across the corners of her lips.
As if under a spell, he leaned down and kissed the soft pout of her mouth. At first, she softened in his arms, her mouth answering his with a passion that made him breathless. Then, when he slid his tongue between her lips, she gasped as if she suddenly realized where she was, and her eyes flew open. With a start, she pulled away, and started weaving her way toward the table.
Her kiss had left him hungry for more and a little embarrassed at the clear evidence of his arousal. Luckily, the lights were dim on the dance floor.
"You’re drunk," Rosalie accused Cassie as she slid into the seat beside her.
"I sure am," Cassie agreed, and picked up her glass to take another drink.
"Honey, we’ve gotta go. The game will be starting in a few minutes." Kyle pulled on Rosalie’s arm.
"Are you going to be okay?" Rosalie touched Cassie’s arm.
"I’ll make sure she gets home okay," Drew assured Rosalie. Her gaze roved his face before she looked over at Kyle.
"He’ll take care of her. And if anything happens, I’ll break his balls," Kyle replied, giving Drew a meaningful look.
"Ouch," Drew replied.
"Okay," Rosalie said, but she hesitated in her seat, her gaze darting from Cassie to Drew and back. Finally, she gave in to Kyle’s tug on her arm. Still, even as she and Kyle walked across the room, she looked back over her shoulder at Cassie, concern clearly written on her features.
Drew held himself erect until he saw Kyle exit the room with a still-protesting Rosalie, then he slumped in his chair and lifted his margarita glass in a toast to himself. Things couldn’t have worked out any better. Hopefully, once Cassie was good and drunk, it wouldn’t be hard to pry her secrets from her.
Several hours later, Drew found it hard to keep his mind on his mission. He had to find out about the postcards, but how? Cassie was deliciously drunk, but despite the late hour, they’d done nothing more than talk about inane matters, like the score of the basketball game, and how they’d met Kyle.
Perhaps now was the time to introduce a more personal question. But what to say–-he couldn’t just blurt out, ‘so have you heard from your dead husband lately?’
"So, you work at the morgue." Drew shouted over the music.
"The morgue. That’s where you work?"
Cassie nodded, her head swaying to the beat of the music. "I’ve worked there for two years, ever since my husband died."
Now, they were finally getting somewhere. "I heard he was killed in a mugging?"
Cassie nodded again. "He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Rosalie doesn’t believe he was there by accident though."
"I don’t understand."
"The son of a bitch was having an affair," Cassie shouted. Unfortunately, there was a lull in the music right then, and her voice carried, attracting the attention of several tables in the vicinity.
"Oh, I didn’t know." Drew pulled a sympathetic face. "How long had you been married?"
"Forever?" Cassie shrugged. "Or at least it seemed like it at the time."
Cassie turned her attention to Drew. "Have you ever been married?"
"No. I came close once, but she changed her mind."
"I’m not, or I wouldn’t have met you tonight." Drew reached forward, and cupped her face in his hand.
Despite his best intentions to keep this on an impersonal level, sparks of desire flashed through him. He wanted to kiss her again, hold her in his arms, undress her–savor her. But he had to find out about the postcards.
He finally pulled his raging hormones into check and formed a coherent question. "So, what’s it like working at the morgue?"
Cassie bit her lower lip as if thinking of a response. "It’s heartbreaking. I’m the personal property supervisor, which means I collect the decedent’s property, log it in, call the family, and make arrangement for them to pick up the items when they come to identify the body."
"If it makes you sad, why do you do it?"
"Because I know how they feel. When I had to claim Rick’s body and his possessions, everyone was so nice and sympathetic. It made it so much more humane. When I was offered the job, I figured I could pass that on."
"That’s a nice thought." It was nice; Cassie was a compassionate woman. So, what in the hell was he doing here trying to discredit her paranormal experience? Not that she’d told him anything about it. Kyle may have been blowing him a load of shit. "So, what sort of things do you normally deal with? I assume wallets, keys, purses and the like. But anything, well, unusual?"
Cassie’s eyes fixed on his. "Funny you should say that."
"Well," Cassie said. She glanced around as if to make sure she wouldn’t be overheard. "It’s not so much what we find on the body that’s unusual. It’s what I receive the next day that’s creepy."
Drew leaned forward. Here it was. "What’s creepy?"
Copyright 2007 - Ericka Scott
June 24th, 2008, 07:51 PM
Ericka your two excerpts are fantastic. I'm going to have to check those two books out.
June 24th, 2008, 08:24 PM
Sorry to be so late, but I got called in to work today. And without further delay...
I love my cover. The cover is part of what inspired me to write this story. When the submissions call for the Vampire Oracle went out last year, I couldn't quit staring at this cover. I looked at all of them, read every premise and I kept coming back to this one. And I am glad I did.
Here is a blurb for Innocence.
Joss has always believed that becoming a vampire was the coward's way out. His guilt has eaten at him his entire existence. His fear of accidentally draining a bed mate has kept him a celibate vampire for 150 years.
Elizabeth's voice on the radio captivates him. The living world suddenly holds a new allure for him. When tragedy strikes and he has to turn her to save her life, can he accept her belief that seeking life is what takes courage?
June 24th, 2008, 08:32 PM
Your book sounds great Lia.
Poor Joss being celibate for 150 years. Maybe his luck is about to change.
June 24th, 2008, 08:42 PM
The Vampire Oracle:Innocence</O:p>
Joss stood in the shadows outside the coffee shop. He’d tried telling himself he was stupid. That she was just another girl. He’d had friendships through the years. When that didn’t work, he tried to convince himself to cancel. She was safer if he never crossed her path again. He spent the last four hours trying to reason his way out of this predicament without any success. He could see her sitting there alone, waiting for him.
Closing his eyes, he tried to think. He turned away from the window and took two steps before turning back and walking to the door. His hand tightened on the handle as he drew in a deep, calming breath before opening the door and stepping into the bright interior.
Elizabeth raised her head from studying the menu when the bell over the door jingled. A smile curved her lips as he crossed the black and white tiled floor to the red vinyl booth where she sat. He stopped as he reached her, unsure if he would really be welcomed.
“I’m so glad you made it,” she said, her smile reminded him of the sunrise, full of hope and promise of a new beginning.
“Sorry. I know I am late.” He slid into the booth opposite her.
“Hey, I’m glad you came. Do you want a cup of coffee?”
“Yeah.” Joss raised his hand to grab the waitress’ attention.
After the waitress brought him a cup, they sat in silence. Joss didn’t want to be the first one to talk.
Everything about Elizabeth screamed at him to run. He’d made a decision about how he would live his life, and he hadn’t been tempted to break his own rules for over a hundred years. He’d never been tempted this much. He should leave. For her safety and his own, he really needed to go.
“Joss.” Elizabeth said his name quietly.
He jerked his head up to look at her and met her gaze across the stained white Formica tabletop. Her blue eyes stripped away his insecurities. He wanted to know her. He needed to.
“I don’t normally let my hormones get the better of me, but I haven’t been able to think about anything other than seeing you tonight.”
“I really wanted to see you again, too,” he admitted.
“Do you want anything other than coffee? I had dinner earlier, but if you want something, it won’t bother me if you eat in front of me.”
“No, I already had...something.” At least his dinner tonight wasn’t drunk or drugged, just down on his luck. He sent him home with a hundred dollars in his pocket and a renewed sense of purpose. Most people would consider it a fair trade.
Copyright 2008-Lia Morgan
June 24th, 2008, 08:47 PM
And just so you don't think he stays celibate long...
The Vampire Oracle:Innocence
Joss led her in to the living room. Built-in bookshelves flanked a large fireplace, and Elizabeth released his hand to cross to it. She ran her fingers lightly over the intricate mantel. Below, a carved panel depicted a stag on a hillside, his antlers raised to the sky.
She knelt to get a better look, then turned back to look at him with unshed tears making her eyes sparkle. “Did you carve that?”
“It was one of the first things I did when I bought this house.”
“Joss, this is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.”
“It is really remarkable.”
“I used to hunt with my father. I remember one morning the sun coming up over a hill. There was just a hint of frost on the ground. The air held that crisp bite of fall. I looked up, and there was a buck standing there. He lifted his head just as the sun rose behind him. He stood there framed in the morning light. Then the wind changed, he caught our scent, and bolted away into the woods.”
“Wow. You talk like it was just yesterday.”
Joss pulled in a deep breath. If she only knew just how long ago it was. He shook his head and looked away from her.
“It was the last time we went hunting together. I left home not long after that. My father died before we had another chance to hunt together.”
Elizabeth stood up, reached out for his hand, pulled him to her, and hugged him, laying her head against his shoulder.
“If I said that I understood how you felt, that would be a lie. Actually, I would be perfectly happy to never understand that. But if you ever want to talk about your family, I will be happy to listen.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off the floor as he hugged her. He turned in a circle before placing a kiss on the tip of her nose and letting her slide down his body until her feet reached the floor.
“See, that is just part of what I like about you,” he said. “You’re the most open and understanding woman I think I have ever met.”
Elizabeth slid one of her hands up his chest and cupped his jaw before threading her fingers through his hair. She leaned away to look him in the eyes. “What else do you like about me?”
Her blue eyes were full of mischief as she looked up at him. Her position pushed her breasts against him, and she took a deep breath, lifting them even higher.
Joss sighed in surrender. He didn’t have the strength to resist her any longer. His efforts had been futile since the first moment he saw her standing over the body of her attacker with a can of mace in her hands, prepared to take him on as well.
He tightened his arms around her again, pulling her against him, then lowered his lips to hers, placing little kisses at each of the corners and center of her bottom lip. He nipped lightly at her plump lip before soothing it with his tongue. Then he slanted his mouth over hers, and his tongue breached her lips to twine itself around hers.
He slid one hand down to her butt, splaying his fingers over the round globe of her bottom before dropping lower to slid one arm down to lift her completely off the ground.
She parted her legs, and he lifted her higher. Feeling her warmth through the fabric of his jeans, he lifted one knee to rub against her with his denim-clad thigh. She wiggled in his arms, her mouth never leaving his, and lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist.
She dragged her lips away from his to kiss along his jaw, her breath hot against his neck. He groaned as she caught his earlobe between her teeth.
He lifted her even higher and paused for a moment, his lips covering the steady pulse at her neck. Her intoxicating scent coupled with her hammering pulse beneath his lips was almost more than he could bear. His incisors lengthened against her skin, and he jerked his mouth away from her. Instead of biting her, he buried his face against her chest.
Pushing the neckline of her blouse to one side, he buried his face between her breasts, pressing his lips to the delicate curve. His tongue slid across her soft skin.
Copyright 2008-Lia Morgan
June 24th, 2008, 10:55 PM
Another great excerpt Lia. I love the little conversation they have. It's so cute!
June 24th, 2008, 10:59 PM
Thank you. Glad I could perk up your Tuesday!
Thanks so much for having us here today. I've enjoyed sharing some of my gorgeous cover art and excerpts from my books with all of you!
Have a great rest of the week.
August 3rd, 2010, 10:39 AM
Thank you for sharing your captivating blurbs and excerpts! :)
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