4:40 PM

Wednesday's Witty Words from Wise Women

"I think you have to take charge of your own life and understand that you're either going to live somebody else's dream or live your own dream."

- Wilma Mankiller

9:56 AM

In the Author Spotlight

Selena Illyria

AL: Hi Selena Thanks for being in the “Author Spotlight” this week.

Selena: Thank You so much for having me.

AL: So, tell us what’s happening with you.

Selena: Nothing much is going on. I just saw the movie Sherlock Holmes and loved it. I’ve been catching up on my paperback to be read pile with Rogue Angel: Spirit Banner by Alex Archer.

AL: You have lots and lots of books for us to read. Please share with us about your newest or upcoming release.

Selena: My most recent release is from the Del Fantasma multi-author series at Aspen Mountain Press called Chocolate Snake Bites (Out Now). About a couple who is having communication problems.

My upcoming release is from the Last Call Europe multi-author series at Changeling Press called Dog Sled (Comes out April 29th) about a pack alpha and the wizard’s familiar and black cat shifter he has his sights set on.

AL: What other works are you deep into?

Selena: I just started my next contribution to the Dragon Kin series at Changeling Press and am almost done with book 3 in my Hades Helmet series also from Changeling Press.

AL: Who inspired you to follow your dream of writing?

Selena: My friends. They encouraged me to write and submit.

AL: Out of all your stories do you have one that is more near and dear your heart?

Selena: Oh, that’s hard, all my stories have a little piece of my heart.

AL: What is one glaringly/specific personality trait that you put into your hero/heroine that is all Selena? One that a family member or friend is hey, this is so you. :-D

Selena: Oh lord, um, hmmm that’s a hard questions. Um, my quirks. My silliness. LOL

AL: Okay, let’s dig a little deeper…If you could meet someone famous in either history, or present day…who would you like to meet and why?

Selena: Oh boy, so many people. I’m in a musical mood so maybe Beethoven or Mozart, but I wouldn’t ask questions, I’d just want to hear the music. LOL

AL: What's your favorite music?

Selena: Oh, my taste in music goes across the board from classical to some metal to pop to jazz to the blues. Depends on my mood really.

AL: What decadent delight must you have no matter what?

Selena: Chocolate covered pretzels. Mmmm, salty, sweet, crispy goodness.

AL: What is the most adventurous thing you’ve ever done?

Selena: Oh goodness, hmmm, going to visit my friend Shar, all by myself on a train. (This was during my trip to England, had to go up north all by myself. It was my first time in England.)

AL: Silly question…You have to ask a fictional character out on a date—who would you ask and what would you do together?

Selena: Hmmm, first one that comes to mind is Garrison from my story Last Call Europe: Chocolate Bliss. We’d have dinner and just talk. Yes, just talk, I swear. LOL

AL: Please share a favorite quote(s) with us.

Selena: Let’s see my most recent favorite is from the Dalai Lama:

“I find hope in the darkest of days, and focus in the brightest. I do not judge the universe.”

But my most favorite quote is one I have up on my website:

"In a man’s letters his soul lies naked." - Samuel Johnson

AL: Thanks so much for sharing with joining us this week, Selena.

Selena: Thank you so much for having me.

AL: If you’d like to find out more about Selena please visit:

Website: www.selenaillyria.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/selenaillyria
My Space: www.myspace.com/selenaillyria
Twitter: www.twitter.com/selena_illyria



Werewolf Silvano wants a break from the drama in pack business. A night out is exactly what he needs. He doesn't count on his rival's familiar Hexuba strolling into Last Call.

Black cat shifter and wizard's familiar Hexuba has always wanted Silvano even though he's the enemy. One night is all she asks to indulge her wildest fantasies with him. Come morning she'll be gone.

Will one night be enough?


Warning: Excerpt contains file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for readers under the age of 18.

Silvano stood in his bathroom staring at his foggy reflection in the mirror. He drew in a breath and blew it out. Tension sung through his body as he prepared himself for the monthly fuckfest. Or, as his elders liked to call it, the compatibility test. He didn't buy it for a second. Find your mate by fucking them. He scoffed at the notion but there wasn't much he could do about it. Either he slept with all the available females in his pack to find a suitable alpha female or he lost his pack. So it was decreed in the pack bylaws, the rules his father had followed as laid out by his father before him and so on and so on, ad nauseam.

As a hormone-driven youth, he'd reveled at the chance to fuck so many willing women. Now, as an adult of thirty-four, with his thirty-fifth birthday right around the corner, he was tired of it. All of it. He'd fucked practically every available woman in the pack. His father had even thought of bringing in women from an allied pack to see if he would fit better with one of them. He'd turned them all down. It wasn't just the sex that was tiresome, but also the elders and his second lieutenant, the rules, the obligations...

He was alpha, the leader, and yet he couldn't make up new rules or lead his people the way he wanted. The system was antiquated, governed by laws and decorum that didn't fit into today's world of paraphiles, people obsessed with the paranormal and all aspects of it. The young pups lived in a sort of static environment, caught between tradition and the modern age where werewolves could blend in with the normal populace without being shunned for doing so.

The other problem on his horizon was twofold. One was from an ex-pack member, Turk. The man had been begun to dabble in the dark arts, accessing the magick in his blood from his wizard ancestry all in a bid to take over the pack that had exiled him long ago. Silvano feared for his once childhood friend. According to reports, Turk was going insane, being driven by dark forces. There was very little Silvano could do short of killing the man, and he was reluctant to do so. Many in both packs had blamed him for Turk's current behavior. Silvano had refused to step aside during the pack challenge and let Turk win.

He shook his head. Silvano couldn't have allowed that. The man was unstable. And now there was the problem of Turk's black cat familiar: Hexuba. Just thinking her name heated his blood. His cock went from flaccid to semi-hard. He could see her face, the velvety dark chocolate colored eyes. Just a glance made him want to drag her someplace private, away from distractions, and discover what secret places on her body made her cry out and moan.

"Fucking hell." He fisted his cock at the base and stroked slowly, allowing the arousal to grow. "Hex." He hissed out her name as his mind painted her image among the wisps of steam. Her delicate nose, high cheekbones and lush, full lips came into view. He groaned again as his thoughts drifted to feeling those lips against his as she explored his body. Silvano could feel the pebbled tips of her nipples scraping across his belly as she moved downward. He wanted to feel her mouth on him, feel her tongue lap at the slit atop his cockhead before swallowing him whole.

The fantasy continued to build as his imagination painted Hex on her knees, lips dragging along his hardened length. The minx would tease him, giving him just enough pressure to send pulses of pleasure up his spine and throughout his body before releasing his cock. She would lap up his seed while pumping him with her hand before returning to torment him with her mouth, and he would love every minute of it.

"Silvano, are you ready?" a high-pitched female voice called out.

The fantasy evaporated just like the steam and he swore. His cock lost some of its hardness as real life came crashing in. With a sigh, he shook his head. "Time to do my duty."

9:21 AM

Wednesday's Witty Words from Wise Women

"From birth to age eighteen, a girl needs good parents, from eighteen to thirty-five she needs good looks, from thirty-five to fifty-five she needs a good personality, and from fifty-five on she needs cash."

- Sophie Tucker

10:33 AM

In the Author Spotlight & Contest
Jeanne St. James

1. Answer the following question correctly and EMAIL it to me at  *DO NOT POST the answer here. Put “contest” in the subject line.

What’s the first name of Logan Reed’s sister? (Read the excerpt to find out!)

2. And/or do the following and show proof by leaving the link in your comment:

- Tweet this contest/interview on Twitter
- Post this contest/interview on your blog
- Post this contest/interview on Facebook
- Post this contest/interview on MySpace
- Post this contest/interview on a reader email loop
- Post this contest/interview on your website

You will get one entry for each that you do above that has a link back to this contest/interview! Make sure that you leave a way for me to contact you if you are the winner!

Entries are due by midnight EST on Sunday April 25th. The winner will be chosen the next day out of all the entries received.

AL: Hi Jeanne Thanks for being in the “Author Spotlight” this week.

Jeanne: Thanks for having me!

AL: So, tell us what’s happening with you.

Jeanne: Recently I adopted a deaf French Bulldog, which we named Iggy. He’s a blast. I used to breed and show German Shepherds so this was a big switch for me. But seriously he is like a big dog in a compact body – though he is big for a Frenchie … 35 lbs. So people could follow his adventures I started a blog for him http://bigearscanthear.blogspot.com he actually gets a lot of hits!

AL: What new or upcoming book do you have for us to sink our teeth into?

Jeanne: Actually I have three releases out right now, Banged Up with Liquid Silver book (a m/f erotic romance), a short m/m erotica story called Rip Cord with Phaze and my latest is Double Dare with Loose Id which is JUST coming out in print! I’m so excited about that.

AL: What is the most difficult part of being a writer and do you write whenever the mood strikes, or do you have a specific routine?

Jeanne: Well, lately it has been with the mood strikes. I have to be in a creative mood to write. I don’t like to force myself. I feel that the reader can pick up on that.

AL: Do you believe a person has to have a special type of personality to write erotic romance?

Jeanne: Yes. I think an erotic author has to be very comfortable with sex… And have a great imagination when it comes to sex. If an author tries to write a very hot, explicit scene and is not comfortable doing so, I think it’s noticeable.

AL: Do you have a mentor or critique partner that you work with consistently?

Jeanne: I have a couple critique partners who are willing to read through my works in progress. It’s nice to have fresh eyes look at my stuff. It’s amazing all the little stuff they catch.

AL: Is there an author(s) out there that you’d love to do an anthology with?

Jeanne: I never thought about it before, but it would be hard to choose. There are really so many great authors out there!

AL: I see in a couple of your books you have pro football players as main characters…are you a football fan? I have to ask cause I LOVE football season and am already counting down to mid-August.

Jeanne: Absolutely. I LOVE football. I’m a HUGE Steelers fan and go to the games when I can. My husband has been on the season ticket waiting list for almost 15 years.

AL: What annoys you enough to be considered a pet peeve?

Jeanne: Oh. Ha ha. How much space do you have? My top peeve is: Smokers throwing their cigarette butts out their car windows, or on the ground. Ugh. It’s littering and piggish!

AL: What type of music do you relax to?

Jeanne: All kinds. I love 80s music (hair bands) and current “modern” country to classical. The only music I won’t listen to is basically gangsta rap.

AL: Can you share some of your plans for 2010 and beyond?

Jeanne: I’ve been doing lots of promo on my three releases… that takes up a lot of time… In addition, I was one of the founding authors to start Romance Writers Behaving Badly blog where a bunch of romance/erotic romance authors got together for a group blog. It’s been a lot of work, but it’s been fun and they’re really a great group of authors! You can check out our group blog here: http://romancewritersbehavingbadly.blogspot.com/

AL: Silly question… If you kissed a frog, what would he turn into?

Jeanne: Well, with my luck, it certainly wouldn’t be a prince. Hopefully another French bulldog because I want another one! Though my husband is not agreeing at this time since we still have an 11 year old German shepherd.

AL: Please share a favorite quote(s) with us.

Jeanne: One by Laurel Thatcher Ulrich: “Well-behaved women rarely make history.”

AL: Thanks so much for sharing with joining us this week, Jeanne.

Jeanne: Thanks so much for having me! And good luck to everyone who participates in the contest.

AL: If you’d like to find out more about Jeanne please visit:

Website: http://www.jeannestjames.com/
Blog: http://jeannestjames.blogspot.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/jeannestjames
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/jeannestjames



What could be better than waking up next to a hot guy? Waking up sandwiched between two of them.

Quinn Preston, a financial analyst, is not happy when her friends dare her to pick up a handsome stranger at a wedding reception. What better reason to give up men when her previous long-term relationship had not only been lackluster in the bedroom but he had cheated?

Logan Reed, a successful business owner, can’t believe that he’s attracted to the woman in the ugly, Pepto-Bismol pink bridesmaid dress. And to boot, she’s more than tipsy. After turning down her invitation for a one-night stand, he finds her in the parking lot too impaired to drive. He rescues her and takes her home. His home.

The next morning Quinn’s conservative life turns on its ear when Logan introduces her to pleasures she never even considered before. And to make things more complicated, Logan already has a lover.

Tyson White, ex-pro football player, is completely in love with Logan. He has mixed emotions when Logan brings home Quinn. But the dares keep coming...

Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, BDSM theme & content, male/male sexual practices, ménage (m/m/f).


Quinn Preston almost choked on her Alabama slammer when her friend elbowed her in the ribs. "Ooof."

She saved her drink before it could spill all over her ugly bridesmaid dress. Yeah, that would have been a shame: to ruin such a nice, frumpy, pukey pink taffeta dress. One the bride had said she would be able to wear in the future. Like to a cocktail party. Or maybe her own funeral. Yeah, right. No one in their right mind would want to get caught dead in this thing.

Ruining the dress wouldn't have been a loss, but losing her drink would have. She was drinking slammers for a reason -- to get good and drunk.

Lana nudged her again. "You see that?" She nodded her head toward the back of the room.

"What?" Quinn really didn't care what Lana was excited about. She just wanted to get this day over with. She was tired of watching the happy couple. She was tired of pasting on a plastic smile for the photographer. And she was really tired of listening to the sappy congratulations. All things she might never have -- the wedding, the husband, the bridal bliss. And something her parents never failed to remind her. Especially now that she was in her early thirties. And single. Again.

"Not what. Who."

"Huh?" She sucked on the dainty little straw the bartender had put in her drink. Hardly anything would come out of it. Maybe it was designed just for stirring. She pulled it out and threw it onto the bar. She really needed one of those big giant straws that came in those fancy frozen drinks.

"Him. Over there." Lana grabbed Quinn by the shoulders and turned her around to face whatever had caught her friend's attention.

"Oh, him." She took a deep draw of the punchlike drink, only there wasn't a bit of punch in it. Not the fruit kind anyway.

"Yeah, him." Lana dragged out him like she was sucking on a maraschino cherry and enjoying the sweetness on her tongue.

Quinn didn't even take a good look. Men were on her shit list at the moment. She didn't care how hot they were. The potent drink in her hands was all the company she needed. She smiled into her glass; it was the best date she'd had in a while.

Another pink taffeta blur whizzed up to them, out of breath.

"Jeez Louise. Did you see that hunk of man meat?" Paula, another victim of the wedding fashion nightmare, was flushed and had a bead of sweat running down her chipmunk-like cheeks. "Do you think he's single?"

Quinn raised one shoulder in a half shrug and turned back to the bar. It was bad enough when the three of them had to stand next to each other at the altar, then throughout the grueling pictures, followed by having to sit beside each other at the head table. All in that awful pink froth. But now that it was all over, and they had done their duty for their friend Gina, there was no reason they all had to stand there looking like someone threw up Pepto-Bismol.

She leaned into the bar and asked the semicute bartender the time. When he answered that it was six, she gritted her teeth. They had only been at the reception for an hour. It was way too early to bail.


With a sigh, she turned back to her friends. They were still ogling the male eye candy across the room.

Paula's sigh drifted over her. "I wonder if he likes women with a little meat on their bones."

A little meat? She opened her mouth to correct Paula, but shut it quickly. Her friend didn't need to be on the receiving end of her miserable mood.

"Quinn, I bet he'd make you forget Peanut."

Quinn winced and took another long draw from her drink. She loved the flavor and the tanginess on her tongue. And she was trying to forget Peanut. She hated the nickname her friends had called her ex-boyfriend, Peter. Once they had actually called him Peanut in front of his face -- by accident, of course. Right. It had taken her a while to brush that one under the rug. He had never liked her friends after that.

On the other hand, her friends had never liked Peter from the beginning. Unlike her parents, who loved the bastard. Probably more than they loved her.

"Yeah, Quinn, he could probably fuck your brains out, and you'd never remember that douche again."

Quinn frowned at Paula. She noticed her friend's string of pearls hiding in the skin around her neck. Quinn's hands automatically went to her neck to finger a similar necklace -- a part of the stupid wedding costume. Ugh. She hated pearls!

She hated taffeta. She hated pink. She hated frilly dresses.

She took a long swig from her glass.

And she hated Peter. The asshole.

His gift to her last Valentine's Day wasn't an engagement ring. Oh no, after five long, wasted years of dating the shit, he couldn't have gotten her a ring. Nope. Instead he sent her a text message.

That was it.

A stupid little text message. One line.

We've grown apart and I've found someone new.

She deserved more than that. Something better. After all those years of loyalty, standing by his side, being the "good, proper" girlfriend. As Peter had expected. As her parents had expected. The girlfriend any decent man would want on his arm. Right?

Not even a sorry. Not even an explanation. Nothing.

And the next day, FedEx had delivered a box with all the things she had left over at his apartment during the last half decade.

Quinn emptied her glass and turned back to the bar, blocking out her friends' chattering over that man.

She needed another man like she needed a hole in the head.

She slid her glass over the bar top, and before she could ask for another, a deep voice washed over her.

"Put her next drink on me."

Dumb ass. The drinks are on the house. She turned to ream whoever it was, and stopped. Her mouth opened, but nothing escaped.

You look like a fish out of water with your mouth hanging open like that." When he smiled, the lines around his eyes crinkled. He was tan, an outdoorsy tan, not a manmade one. And he had beautiful green eyes. Shit. She had never seen such beautiful eyes on a man. His nose was a little crooked, like it had been broken, and it made him even more beautiful. No. Not beautiful. He was. He was.

Quinn closed her mouth and swallowed hard. He was so unperfect, he was perfect. His hair was a dark brown with natural highlights, more proof he liked being outdoors. It was long and pulled back into a neat ponytail.

She hated long hair on men. But it was right on him.

He had a beard that wasn't a beard. It was like a longer five-o'clock shadow.

She hated facial hair.

He had a strong, corded neck that disappeared into a stiff dress shirt. The collar had been already released and one more button undone below that. The knot of his tie was loose and hung crookedly from around his neck.

The sleeves of his crispy white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and his forearms were tan covered in dark hair. His hands.

Oh. Damn.

His hands were large. They were working hands. They weren't soft and pampered. But calloused and thick and strong.

Capable. Capable of doing all kinds of things.

Quinn's nipples hardened under the scratchy taffeta.

His hands could do all kinds of dirty, nasty things.

Things Peter had never wanted to do.

Quinn ripped her gaze from him and spun back around to the bar, bracing herself against it for a second to catch her breath. She grabbed her fresh drink and took a gulp.

"Whoa. Slow down there."

She pressed the cold drink against her forehead in an attempt to cool herself off.

She needed to go change her panties, she was so freaking wet.

She could feel his heat next to her; his body was like a furnace. She wanted to plant her hands on his chest and feel how hot he really was. Her fingers convulsed around her glass.

Are you okay?" The deep timbre of his voice sent a shot of lightning down her body, landing right in her pussy.

Quinn could only nod her answer.

He palmed her bare shoulder and turned her to him. He stared down into her eyes, his lips widening into a smile.

His lips. Oh man. Those lips probably could do all sorts of things to her, with her. Lips that were made for more than kissing.

"Yes." Oh my God, she thought. That was the kind of yes she blurted when she was in the midst of an orgasm. At least from what she could remember. It had been so long since she'd come. With a partner, anyway.

She felt the heat crawl up her neck, and she stepped back, breaking the contact.

"I…I'm fine." She cleared her throat. "Thank you for the drink." She took another sip before raising the glass to him in thanks.

"It was nothing." When he laughed, her knees almost buckled. "Enjoy it."

He stepped away and then paused. But it looked as though he thought better of whatever he was contemplating, and he continued on his way.

Quinn leaned back against the bar and let out a shaky breath.

She was suddenly flanked on either side by her friends. She had been so distracted, she hadn't even realized that they disappeared.

"Quinn --"


"Oh. My. God!"

"I told you he was hot!"

"Oh! I wish I weren't married already."

"I wish he liked chubby chicks."

Quinn couldn't take any more. She raised her palms in surrender. "Stop. Enough."

"But, Quinn --"

"But nothing," Quinn answered Paula.

"You're just going to let him walk away?"

"Paula, he isn't going anywhere. Unfortunately I'm not going anywhere. We have to be here for two more hours, at least."

Lana said, "Are you going to let Peter ruin the rest of your life? All men aren't assholes like him."

Quinn harrumphed and took another sip of her slammer.

"Why don't you at least dance with him?"


"Why not?" Lana asked.

Why not? Because if she did, she might come right on the dance floor? Because she might end up in a puddle of her own juices? The picture in her head shocked her: it was of her lying in a heap in the middle of the dance floor in the throes of an orgasm. Surrounded by all the wedding guests.

This drink was stronger than she thought.

"Because no one is dancing yet."

"Sure they are. Look."

Quinn glanced over at the area cleared for dancing, and sure enough, a crowd of people were out there shaking their groove thing. Quinn had been too busy trying to get her drink on to notice.

From the looks of the participants on the dance floor, a few of them had been partaking in the open bar also. Even the bride and her new husband were bouncing and shimmying in the crowd.

At least they were a happy couple.

Quinn took another drink.

Lana frowned at her. "Are you just going to drink tonight, or are you going to do something about your situation?"

"Situation? What situation?"

"Getting laid."

Quinn checked over her shoulder to see if the bartender was listening. He was. He had a big grin plastered on his face. Great.

The father of the bride came up and asked for a gin and tonic. While he was waiting, he turned to them. "Hi, girls. Enjoying yourselves? You look great in those dresses. My wife picked them out."

Oh joy. Quinn would have to remember to smack -- she meant thank -- her. She couldn't wait to rip the scratchy, ugly piece of shit off.

All three women gave him a smile but bit their tongues. Eventually he wandered away, and Lana and Paula jumped right back to harassing her. Good thing they were her friends.

"C'mon. It's not going to hurt to have a one-night stand. Look at him."

"I already saw him." Holy moley, she knew they meant well, but they were getting on her last nerve.

"Yeah, and we saw how you were drooling too."

She had not drooled. Her hand automatically went up to her mouth.

Paula said, "He probably isn't interested in you anyway."

"Yeah, you couldn't get someone like that. You attract losers like Peter," Lana said.

If they thought their reverse psychology was going to work, well, it wasn't.

"Looks like he's with Paige Reed, anyway."

Quinn's gaze shot over to the corner of the ballroom where the tall man stood next to the petite, dark-haired beauty. Paige Reed. Figures.

"I thought Paige was dating Connor Morgan," Quinn mumbled.

She must have mumbled loud enough, because Lana answered her. "She is. Connor had to fly to Australia for something to do with his job."

"So why is she with him?" Quinn asked. Why was she so curious all of a sudden? Why did she care?

She didn't. She nursed her drink. After one and a half Alabama slammers, she was starting to feel pretty tipsy. She wasn't used to drinking. And when she did drink, she usually had wine, not hard liquor, and especially not such a hard-hitting mix of liquors.

Paula leaned into the both of them and said in an exaggerated whisper, "Maybe he's an escort," like it was a scandal, and then laughed.

Maybe he was an escort.

He was probably worth every penny too.

His back was to them now, but that just gave Quinn the opportunity to study how broad those shoulders were in his dress shirt. When he moved, the fabric bunched and pulled with his muscles.

Lana gasped, jerking Quinn out of her thoughts. "He's not an escort! That's Logan Reed, Paige's brother. I haven't seen him since we were kids. Holy shit, did he grow up."

"I'll say." Paula agreed. "Quinn, I dare you to go ask him to dance."

"Not interested."

Lana joined in. "Yeah, I dare you too. Don't be a wuss."

If she were a wuss, she wouldn't have come out in public in this pink atrocity. And the matching shoes were killing her feet. The last thing she needed was to be dancing. She'd be crippled.

"That's a double dare, you know, with the two of us daring you.."

Oh, boy, a double dare. She would definitely do it now -- not. "You're crazy."

"No, you are, if you pass up this opportunity."

"How do you know he's available?" Quinn asked them.

"You don't know until you ask him," Lana said. "But if I remember correctly, his wife left him a while ago. There had been some rumors."

There had been some rumors about her and Peter too, but rumors were just that: rumors. She didn't take any stock in them.

Paula suddenly shouted, "Truth or dare?" making Quinn jump. It was like they were teenagers all over again.

Lana quickly said, "Truth." And bounced on her toes like she was fifteen.

Jesus, would someone please put a bullet in my head? Quinn needed to be put out of her misery.

Paula asked Lana, "Do you shave or wax?"

"Shave. Okay, Quinn, your turn. Truth or dare?"

Quinn was not playing this juvenile game. It was stupid; she was not going to fall into what was clearly a trap.


"How bad was Peter in bed?" Lana asked.

Damn. She wasn't going to answer that one. Even as drunk as she was. She didn't want to relive their vanilla, boring lovemaking. And she definitely didn't want to admit it or talk about it.

There was only one thing left for her to do.

1. Answer the following question correctly and EMAIL it to me at .
*DO NOT POST the answer here. Put “contest” in the subject line.

What’s the first name of Logan Reed’s sister? (Did you read the excerpt to find out?)

2. And/or do the following and show proof by leaving the link in your comment:

- Tweet this contest/interview on Twitter
- Post this contest/interview on your blog
- Post this contest/interview on Facebook
- Post this contest/interview on MySpace
- Post this contest/interview on a reader email loop
- Post this contest/interview on your website

You will get one entry for each that you do above that has a link back to this contest/interview! Make sure that you leave a way for me to contact you if you are the winner!

Entries are due by midnight EST on Sunday April 25th. The winner will be chosen the next day out of all the entries received.

10:01 AM

Wednesday's Witty Words from Wise Women

"If you can keep your head about you when all about you are losing theirs, it's just possible you haven't grasped the situation."

- Jean Kerr

9:32 AM

In Author Spotlight

Sloan Parker

AL: Hi Sloan Thanks for being in the “Author Spotlight” this week.

Sloan: Hi Ann. Thank you for inviting me to your blog. I’m excited to be here! This is my first interview as a published author.

AL: So, tell us what’s happening with you.

Sloan: Today I’m loving the sunshine and warmth outside. It finally is spring here in the Midwestern US and life is good. I spent some relaxing time this past weekend with my sweetie and that always puts a smile on my face. I also spent the last couple of days checking things off my task list, and that usually means more writing time ahead, which helps widen the smile.

AL: Please tell us what you have for us to read.

Sloan: My first release, MORE, is a gay erotic suspense (m/m/m). A confirmed loner spends an explosive night in a sex club with two men who ultimately ask him to break all of his rules and form a three-way relationship. In the end, he finds himself with more than he ever knew he wanted. Too bad his father is determined to destroy his something more.

AL: What other works are you whipping up for us?

Sloan: I’m currently putting the final touches on my next novel, BREATHE, another gay romance. BREATHE is about loss and guilt, forgiveness and family, but it’s also erotic and romantic. It’s a story about both sides of the pain caused by a tragic accident. A story that asks, is love enough?

I also have two short stories that I’m submitting to an anthology later this month. Both are gay erotic romances. They are sexy and romantic and each look at an important moment of a man’s life in, what I think is, an interesting way. I had a blast writing them.

AL: When you write do you do a detailed outline before you get started or do you have the idea then just 'fly by the seat of your pants'? :-)

Sloan: Detailed outlining works well for me. My mind moves too fast and I write too slow for me to get all my ideas into a first draft. Sometimes the scenes in my outline have one or two sentences. Sometimes they are fully flushed out with dialogue, setting descriptions, and character movements. I layer in the emotional responses and characterizations during the writing and revising phases.

AL: What do you like best about writing? What is your least favorite thing?

Sloan: I like exploring the characters, really figuring out how each would react to the situations I throw at them.

I guess my least favorite part of the process is the speed at which I work. I make so many passes through revising each story to get it worded just the way I want and to get the characters developed enough for the story to flow the way I want it to. It can be frustrating at times, but it’s a process that works for me, so I’m trying not to question it.

AL: In your bio you state that you are bisexual. Besides writing LGBT romance with men do you see yourself down the road writing LGBT with women?

Sloan: The next several projects I’m planning will also feature gay/bi men. I don’t know what the future will hold after that. I’d like to keep my mind open to any ideas that come my way, but most, if not all, of what I write will focus on GLBT romantic relationships. I will add that, hopefully sometime this year, I’ll be writing a short lesbian romance for my sweetie. She’s been begging me for a lesbian story that’s both erotic and romantic. Not sure where that will end up. Maybe only for my sweetie’s eyes.

AL: Okay, let’s get personal…Are you a writer only, or do you do other activities outside of writing?

Sloan: I’m also a freelance web developer, although I’ve been cutting back on my workload to make more time for writing. Fortunately for me, I have a wonderful partner who supported me in that decision. My other passions are reading, my sweetie, our furry little beasts, my family, and friends. I try to make time for the important things these days, as I find time just keeps getting shorter and shorter. Is that an age thing? Or am I falling into some black hole of time suckage?

AL: You have a list of movies that you like…what is your absolute favorite of them all and why?

Sloan: Oh man, you’re getting serious now. Just one movie? I guess right now, I’m partial to Rudy. I watched a clip a few weeks ago that reminded me why that movie rocks. It’s the ultimate “underdog works his ass off and accomplishes what no one believed he could do” movie. I love the motivation it instills every time I watch it. I recommend it to people all the time (even non-sports fans). We all have dreams. We can all relate to Rudy. I’ve been writing since I was a kid. Actually finishing a book and submitting it took years to accomplish, but here I am. Metaphorically, the day MORE was released I felt like I was Rudy running out on the Notre Dame field in uniform for the first time. Yeah, I’m a dork.

AL: Tell us, what’s the most unglamorous thing you’ve done in the past week?

Sloan: I was really behind on work this past week, so one morning I rolled out of bed, skipped the shower, went straight for the laptop, and pinned my hair back with a paperclip. I stayed like that for a couple hours before I finally made it to the shower where I discovered said paperclip still in my hair. I had forgotten it was there. Yeah, UNglamorous!

AL: If I asked your best friend what type of person you are, what would he or she tell me?

Sloan: That’s a tough one. We see ourselves so very different from how others see us. I guess she’d say I’m an introvert who’s most comfortable hanging with friends at home over a game of cards and a beer than out at a bar. She’d probably say I’m funny (but trust me, I’m only funny to her). She might also say I’m focused. I can easily get my head buried in whatever I’m working on and forget to do anything else (like go to the bathroom or take a shower).

AL: Silly and fun question… You’re the heroine of your book, why do you fall in love with the hero(s)/heroine(s)?

Sloan: For me, being draw to someone is all about the attraction. Not just the physical, but an attraction to who they are, that special something you see in them that calls to you in a way few other people do. I guess all the characters I write about call to me in some way. With MORE, I was enamored with Luke the moment I started writing the first chapter in his POV. He was damaged and lonely and looking for love, only he didn’t want to acknowledge any of those things. I knew once he let himself accept a physical attraction that led him to spend more than one night with someone, he’d start to break down the walls he’d built and show us the beautiful man he is on the inside.

AL: Please share a favorite quote(s) with us.

Sloan: Here’s one of my favs:

“We are each of us angels with only one wing. And we can only fly while embracing each other.” -Lucian de Croszonza

AL: Thanks so much for sharing with joining us this week, Sloan.

Sloan: Thank you again for having me, Ann. Your questions were a lot of fun!

AL: If you’d like to find out more about Sloan please visit:

You can also follow me on Twitter and Facebook



For fifteen years Luke Moore has lived by three rules: stay off his father's radar, never spend more than a single night with any man, and never fall in love again. But one night of explosive sex and two men whom he can’t get out of his head have Luke breaking them all. Richard and Matthew push him past all his boundaries—both sexually and personally—and now he’s no longer hiding from his senator father; he’s taking him on. And he isn’t just falling for one man; he’s falling for two. If you're going to break the rules, might as well break them big.

But Luke’s father has his reasons for hating how his son lives, and he’ll do whatever he can and use all his power to keep Luke away from Richard and Matthew.

Can this threesome find a way to make their unconventional relationship last with the world around them trying to pull them apart? And will Luke be able to keep breaking his rules for Richard and Matthew, or will he head back to his familiar way of life just when his new lovers want to bind him tighter?


I awoke an hour later, my father’s long-ago words still ringing in my ears.

“You start living a decent life or I swear to God, I will track you down and take away every lover you ever have. I’ll make them see who you are. I’ll make them hate you. I’ll make your life a living hell.”

Goose bumps formed at the base of my neck before I opened my eyes. I shot off the bed and didn’t bother with clothes. I charged down the hall and lunged for the computer.

I entered the password three times before I hit the correct keys. My fingers tapped the edge of the desk as the video program opened. The playback started, and I clicked several times to advance the screens faster, scanning for any sign of my stalkers. The video playback caught up to the current time.


My breathing slowed. It was the first time I’d forgotten to check the tape on the door or the cameras.

The phone on the desk rang. I stared at it for four rings before I answered. No one had the number to my land line. Work had my cell number. The apartment wasn’t in my name.

“Luke Moore?”

I straightened and pressed the phone closer to my ear. “Yes.”

“My name’s Mark Summers. I’m a reporter with The Washington Times. I’m doing a story on your father and wondered if you’d be able to answer some questions.”

“How’d you get this number?”

“I’m looking to do a human interest piece -- about the man, his family, that sort of thing. I’m not out for dirt.”

I banged a fist on the desk and hit the edge of the keyboard. Three keys popped off. They scattered and bounced on the floor. I watched as the letters M and N and B randomly surfaced over and over like the balls spinning around in a bingo cage. The tiny pieces of plastic clicked as they collided. They sounded like they were snickering at me.

I tried to keep my voice calm, neutral. “I asked you a question.”

“I’m not going to be the last call you’ll get. At some point, you’ll have to answer questions. No one knows about his family.”

"Why now?”

“Seriously? He’s a big name these days. His energy bill saved a lot of jobs in this country. People want to know the man behind the name.”

“Trust me; you don’t want to know him.” I slammed the phone down as I stood and kicked the flimsy chair backward, scraping a bare heel.


I cradled the injured foot in my hands and hopped around naked. I tripped over the busted chair and plunged onto the couch. The springs jammed into my hip. Pain exploded down my leg and mixed with the throb in my foot.

The crumbled, destroyed chair lay sprawled on the floor, mocking me. A reminder the time to move again was close. I stood and hobbled to the bedroom.

One place would make me feel better.

* * * * *

I arrived at the Haven a few hours later -- the earliest ever -- dressed in leather pants, a burgundy dress shirt, and a cocky smirk on my face, determined to put all thoughts of my father, my past, and any other emotional crap behind me.

The Haven was my place to play. My place to feel better about my life and how I lived it.

I wanted to fuck the shit out of someone. I wanted to dominate, to take charge and possess someone, deny him an orgasm until I wanted him to come.

My expectations of what the night would entail affected my demeanor, and I stood taller. I eyed the room for a candidate before taking a seat. The hurried manner in which I went about the task would have bothered me on any other night. Not now. I had something to prove -- to myself and to the voice of my father.

Yet, as I surveyed the room and sat on a bar stool, the image of one man assailed my thoughts -- a grinning, licking, groaning Matthew.

Shit. I slammed a clenched fist on the bar.

“Something wrong, Luke?” the bartender asked.

“Uh, no. Nothing. Glass of water, please.”

I raised the water to my lips and kept swallowing until I sucked in air instead of the cool liquid. I shoved the glass aside with the back of my hand. The scratching in my throat continued with each gulp of air.

I closed my eyes, and the daydream of Matthew and me slid into view. Richard soon arrived. He pushed into me with abandon while I continued to fuck Matthew.

I rubbed the back of my neck with an open hand. The gesture created more tension instead of easing it. Sex with the same men more than once wasn’t the experience I wanted. Not that night. Not any night. It was too expected, redundant, reliable, and complicated. I wanted none of it.

Except I did want them. I couldn’t deny how much I wanted to feel them in my arms, to touch them, to kiss them again.

9:18 AM

Move Phrase Friday ANSWER


1:25 PM

Movie Phrase Friday

MS: Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

TC: If you're thinking "Holy shit! Holy shit! A swordfish almost went though my head!" If so, then yes.

What movie is it?

4:58 PM

Wednesday's Witty Words from Wise Women

"Marrying a man is like buying something you've been admiring for a long time in a shop window. You may love it when you get it home, but it doesn't always go with everything else in the house."

- Jean Kerr

8:57 AM

In the Author Spotlight & Contest

Kaylin McFarren

CONTEST: Win a t-shirt (valued at $35) and free PDF copy of Flaherty's Crossing by visiting and leaving comments on Ann's blog. Don't forget your email address so Kayling can contact you if you win.

AL: Hi Kaylin Thanks for being in the “Author Spotlight” this week.

Kaylin: I've truly been looking forward to this. Thank you, Ann.

AL: So, tell us what’s happening with you.

Kaylin: Well, I've been enjoying the wonderful spring weather we're having here in Oregon. The birds are chirping, our gardens are in full bloom, and for the past week, fishermen have been out on the river trying to catch Chinook Salmon. It's so fun watching all the outdoor activity, it's a struggle to get anything done inside.

AL: Please tell us about your newest release, Flaherty’s Crossing. For the readers: This is a wonderful sentiment of love. 100% of the proceeds on this book will be donated to the Cancer Research Center at Providence Medical Center in her father’s name.

Kaylin: Flaherty's Crossing is a story about choices and how they affect the rest of our lives. It's about finding faith in our selves and in others, realizing there are often two sides to every argument, and learning to forgive the ones we love before it's too late.

AL: What other works are you deep into?

Kaylin: At this time, I'm working on an action-adventure manuscript titled Severed Threads, which I'm hoping to wrap up very soon. Here's the story in a nutshell: Believing herself responsible for her father's fatal diving accident, Rachel Lyons has withdrawn from the world and assumed a safe position at a foundation office. When called upon by a museum director to assist her former love interest with the recovery of a priceless artifact from a sunken galleon, she has no intention of cooperating – until her brother is kidnapped by a drug-dealing gangster. In order to save him and gain control over her own life, Rachel must not only overcome her greatest fears, but also relive the circumstances that lead to her father's death. When this on-going adventure comes to a final end, there will be three page-turning stories in the Severed Threads series.

AL: How much research time do you put into most of your books?

Kaylin: Flaherty's Crossing was truly a labor of love. Since it was based on my personal account, research was relatively limited. Not so with Severed Threads. I've spent the better part of five months in libraries, engaged in interviews, documenting and researching online. Since ancient Chinese history, scuba diving equipment, trade routes and dozens of other elements were involved, accuracy is most important.

AL: How do you decide upon your settings? What about the names of characters? Do you ever change either mid-stream into a story?

Kaylin: In regard to settings, I tend to gravitate towards familiar locations and townships, but I've also discovered that traveling overseas extensively has allowed me to incorporate my experiences in unexpected ways. I'm totally convinced settings are like characters, needing to serve a purpose. In Flaherty's Crossing, Kate's estranged father lived in an isolated lake-side cabin. Her journey down a winding mountain road reflects her distorted reality and brings her to a major crossroads in her life.

As far as names in a story, sometimes I change my secondary characters' identities, looks, and traits, But for the most part, I have a pretty good sense of who my heroes and heroines are from the get-go and try to stay consistent throughout my writing.

AL: Have you ever wanted to write your book in one direction but your characters wanted to go in another direction. What did you do in such a situation?

Kaylin: Not so much with Flaherty's Crossing. But with action-adventure or romantic suspense, my characters seem to want to go in all sorts of the directions, which is probably why I'm writing my next story as a series. Although I'm a professed pantster, I'm finding that giving myself and my "counterparts" perimeters in a pre-written summary helps.

AL: Okay, Kaylin, grab a glass of wine, a tissue and some chocolates, we’re about to get personal. After you lost your father, you began writing Flaherty’s Crossing, did this give you the closure you needed, the outlet in which to pour your heart? Is this the book that set your course in writing? I too have lost loved ones to cancer, my grandfather in 2006 and my father-in-law in September.

Kaylin: {sipping a glass of wine}. Well, I can honestly say Flaherty's Crossing became the source of my salvation. My father and I never had the ability to truly communicate… that is until he was diagnosed with colon cancer. I spent months at his bedside, hearing stories and learning about his past. Then one day, I received a dreaded phone call. When I arrived, my mother told me he'd been holding on, waiting for me. He sat up in bed and kissed me goodbye. Then he was gone. I was torn apart – hurt, angry, confused. I needed an avenue to vent, a medium to pour out my emotions, and I found it in writing. What originally started as a memoir to honor my father evolved into a fictional account. But somehow I could never let go of it. I just couldn't get that last chapter written. The manuscript went into a desk drawer for years and then one day, my eldest daughter convinced me to pick it up again.

Tweaking, editing, and polishing this manuscript was like opening an old wound. But in the process of analyzing my feelings, I realized this was something I needed to do. I had to bring closure to a sad chapter in my life. And strangely, in finding this completion, I opened a new page by renewing my interest in writing. And there's something more. Now that this book is released, I know it has a far greater purpose. When readers purchase copies of Flaherty's Crossing, they'll not only enjoy a fun, inspirational story, they will help make a difference in everyone's life by directly contributing to cancer research.

I've been told time and time again, the best stories come out of the worst times in our lives. My hope is that you find this is the case for you as well, Ann.

AL: What do you like best about living on the west coast? You said in your bio that you hug to it and keep your family close.

Kaylin: I guess I'm a "sun" baby at heart, since I enjoy relatively temperate climates. My home makes it possible to drive one hour north to snowy mountains, two hours south to the coast, an hour east to the desert, and all the while I have nature wrapping its arms around me like a warm crazy quilt.

AL: What is the most adventurous thing you’ve ever done?

Kaylin: I would have to say ride on an elephant in Thailand through a winding jungle. Quite the experience!

AL: If you have two hours of free time tonight, what would you rather do? Why?

Kaylin: I'd write non-stop if I could, but I would relish the time spent with my family around a dinner table more – watching my husband, children, and grandchildren eat, drink, laugh, and talk over each other. They're just too much fun!

AL: Silly question… In your next life, if you came back as a critter, what would it be?

Kaylin: Oh, definitely a fat, sassy cat. You get to sleep, stretch, hunt, eat…do whatever you want, and there's always someone around to scratch and pamper you.

AL: Please share a favorite quote(s) with us.

Kaylin: Here's one of my favorites: If you cannot get rid of the family skeleton, you may as well make it dance. -- George Bernard Shaw

AL: Thanks so much for sharing and for joining us this week, Kaylin.

Kaylin: My thanks to you, Ann. {hugs} I look forward to dropping by and visiting your readers throughout the week!
AL: If you’d like to find out more about Kaylin please visit:



From Pacific Northwest's award-winning author Kaylin McFarren comes a powerful novel about love, loss, and the power of forgiveness... Flaherty's Crossing.

Successful yet emotionally stifled artist Kate Flaherty stands at the deathbed of her estranged father, conflicted by his morphine-induced confession exposing his part in her mother's death. While racing home, Kate's car mishap leads her to a soul-searching discussion with a lone diner employee, prompting Kate to confront the true reasons her marriage hangs in the balance. When her night takes an unexpected turn, however, she flees for her life, a life desperate for faith that can only be found through her ability to forgive.


As Kate's car jounced over the rough highway lining the Puget Sound, a layer of fog lifting from the dark waters swallowed the beams of her headlights. The ocean welcomed her back with its hazy abyss. The sounds of undulating static evidenced waves crashing on the shore. A crisp breeze brushed against her face, delivering a trace of salt to her tongue.

She tried to remember how many years it had been since she'd spent time near the sea. Crabbing, fishing, water skiing: all her happiest memories with her dad had taken place by the water. As well as the most terrifying day of her life.

Kate closed the window. She turned on the radio and flipped through the channels, all crackling between towers. A political debate. Advice for the lovelorn. The brain-itching chorus of "Gypsy Soul." She clicked it off.

Her wheels screeched as she flew around another curve and onto the connecting highway. She released her foot from the gas pedal but, resisting the instinct to use the brakes, she shoved her foot back down to accelerate. Perhaps her way of defying death, or a desperate search for control.

She lifted her phone and called home again, only to hear the same message on the machine.

Where was he?

Suddenly, Drew's words came back to her: "Maybe we need to take a break."

They'd had plenty of arguments in the past, but never before had he mentioned separating. What if he viewed her unexplained absence tonight as blatant apathy?

Apprehension raised her blood pressure, burned the tips of her ears.

She speed dialed Drew's lifeline: his cell phone. It went straight to voicemail: "You've reached Drew Coleman with Milton, Sidis, and Stricklen. I'll be out of town until Monday. If this is an urgent matter, you can reach my assistant at..."

As Kate anxiously waited for the beep, she noted darkness in Drew's voice, a seriousness that had replaced the fun-loving spirit she'd fallen in love with.

"Drew, I'm on my way home," she said. "I'm heading back from my father's. I'll explain when I see you. Anyway, there was a detour. I just took highway sixteen off one-o-six, so I shouldn't be more than forty minutes away..."

The glow of her headlights bounced off something ahead.

It was an animal. A deer. Standing sideways in her lane.

Kate dropped the phone. "No, no, no!" she yelled, jamming the brake pedal to the floor. She yanked back on the steering wheel as if pulling a B-52 out of a nosedive.

In exaggerated slow motion, the deer turned its head toward her. No fear in its eyes. No attempt to move. Either at peace with its fate or unwavering in its defiance.

The car's beams elongated the creature's shadow across the road, the distance between them vanishing. There wasn't time to stop--they were going to collide.

Kate screamed, swerving into the hole of blackness off the edge of the highway. Every muscle in her body clenched, preparing for impact.

REMEMBER: Win a t-shirt (valued at $35) and free PDF copy of Flaherty's Crossing by visiting and leaving comments on Ann's blog. Don't forget your email address so Kayling can contact you if you win.