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
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
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!
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
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!
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.
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
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."
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."