About Ashley

Contact me: Chinara@aol.com

If you would like to interview me, review one of my books, or you'd like to be interviewed by me or submit a guest blog related to romance writing/promotion/and or reading, please email me.


Bio:
I write erotic romance: MF, MM, MFM, and MMF. Usually contemporary, often romantic comedy, military, and sometimes paranormal (vampires, time travel, ghosts, witches, demons, shifters, futuristic).

I live in South Florida with her husband, five children, and beloved pets. I love the water, animals (especially cats), and playing on the computer.


I've been told I have a wicked sense of humour and often incorporates humour and adventure into my books. I also adore very spicy romance, which she weaves into her stories.

Where you can find me:

Twitter

Total-E-Bound books

Ellora's Cave Books

Lori Foster's Readers and Writers Event - Cincinnati, Ohio June 2010

Saturday Snippets: Mistaken Identity

Today's Saturday Snippet theme is mistaken identity.

My daughters look a lot alike and are often mistaken for twins. Sometimes people mistake one for the other. This annoys them, particularly the younger one. But this is nothing compared to what Sioban goes through in my mistaken identity story.

In "Carbon Copy" Siobhan is mistaken for a mass murderer. Not only is she mistakenly taken for the criminal, she finds herself on death row for crimes she didn't commit.

Blurb - Carpon Copy

When Confederation Captain Siobhan Mallory finds herself a prisoner on death row for crimes she didn't commit, she's rescued by the disreputable but very sexy Captain Jeremiah "Caid" Kincaid. But Caid is far from the proverbial white knight. His armor is very tarnished. In exchange for rescuing her from certain death and helping her to clear her name, he demands her sexual favors.


A survivor, Siobhan accepts his help and they set out on a whirlwind adventure of sex, romance, and danger that steals her breath. Soon her pirate challenges every preconceived notion she has cherished about pirates, life, and the labels placed upon people as she discovers her soul mate in a most unlikely hero.
An Excerpt From: CARBON COPY

© Copyright ASHLEY LADD, 2004.
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave, Inc.

Rough, the guard chained Siobhan’s hands behind her back, clasped a metal ring around her neck, and hauled her like a dog to death’s corridor. The heavy chain clanked on the floor, biting into her neck and making it almost impossible to hold her head up. With every scrap of strength she could muster, she held it up to meet her fate head on, marching proudly past the rows of the worst deviants and slogs in the galaxy.

“What’d you do, sweet thing? Burn the muffins?” A particularly disgusting double-faced, four-legged Glitopuss taunted, coiling his long slimy tongue toward her. His genitals swelled and glistened grotesquely in the weblinthium’s pulsing glow.

She veiled her eyes, looking away. Unfortunately, the view was no better wherever her glance fell.

“Maybe the Diva Goddess stuck that perky nose up in the air at the King,” a single-breasted Pretadorn drawled. Sporting a single beady eye and three nostrils, she was as abominable as the Glitopuss.

“You take a wrong turn? The debutante ball is in the penthouse, at the top of the compound.” Startled by the svelte, human voice, her gaze sought out the owner. He appeared to be the only man on the corridor. The inmate’s amused gaze dissected each and every inch of her. He leaned against the weblinthium bars nonchalantly as if he was hanging out at the cantina. Mischief danced in the man’s jade eyes, striking against his waist-length coal-black hair. He was simultaneously the most disreputable and sexiest male she’d ever seen, so much so, he made her forget to breathe. “Don’t mind them. They never heard of manners.”

And he had? Regardless of his handsome façade, she detected no evidence of his so-called manners. “You’re on death’s corridor because you have such sterling ones?” Siobhan returned the favor, letting her gaze drink him in. Tall enough to make her look up at him, the man had to stand at least six foot four inches. Broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist, slim hips, and powerful legs. Mocking intelligence smoldered in his disturbing gaze. Unkempt though he was, she grudgingly admitted the man was ruggedly handsome, with sculpted cheeks, a braided beard with faded beads strung through the two braids, and a high forehead, which his unruly locks insisted on tumbling over. He was one-hundred-eighty degrees opposite her fiancé’s polished blonde figure. He wore the outfit of pirates, her sworn enemies.

“Just a little misunderstanding, sweet thing. My attorneys are working on my appeal as we speak.”

Sweet thing? Hardly. If he’d heard the rumors of her supposed crime, he wouldn’t waste a drop of charm on her. “Hope your attorneys are better than mine.” Considering her own case, it was possible, if highly unlikely, he spoke the truth. Danger seeped from his every pore, mixed in with his scallywag charm. Charming men made her internal alarms whir out of control—they couldn’t be trusted. Her father had tried to alliance her with several. Blatantly honest, she loved her straightforward Dennis. No artifice. No games. Thoroughly trustworthy, she could consign him her life. She had done so often and he had never let her down.
So where was he now?

Trying to find her, most definitely. She had been captured and arrested without due process…

The guard disabled the weblinthium force field in the cell across from the pirate, then unclasped the chain from her collar and shoved her inside. In a reverberating, mechanical voice, he said, “Better pray fast to your gods. Your execution will be at the rise of the third Balderian moon.”

Carbon Copy available at Ellora's Cave.
For more reading pleasure check out excerpts from today's other participating authors.

McKenna Jeffries
Vivian Arend
Ashley Ladd
Shelley Munro
Taige Crenshaw
Mari Carr
Shelli Stevens
Elisabeth Naughton

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Saturday Snippets: Pets

Today's Saturday Snippets theme is "pets". If you know me even a little bit, you'll know my cats and dogs are my babies. If you know me a lot, you'll know I'm a cat person from way back. Sometimes I think I'm part cat. :)

My kids swear our Husky speaks English. When he howls it does sound a lot like "Out". Maybe they're right. And my cat Bobby understands us and follows instructions as well as or better than any dog and he looks at me with such human eyes. I swear I think he understands everything we say.

In my Ellora's Cave romantica "Make-Believe Lover" the heroine Becca and her cat are sucked into another world. In the new world, Gizmo her cat, can talk. And boy does he ever talk! He won't shut up.

I love Gizmo. He tries to steal the show, but Becca and her hero Lobo put him in his place when he gets too far out of line.

Blurb:

Becca is either dreaming—or dead. She's been transported into the medieval world of her favorite adult cartoon. When her cat talks, fire-breathing dragons stalk her, and an evil king pledges his resources to see her dead, her favorite fantasy morphs into a nightmare. Worse, the hero can't wait to send her home.

Lobo is cursed. Everyone who has ever loved him has died, thus he's become a recluse. When the witch Becca and her devil cat insist on his help, he risks everything to save their separate worlds—and keep his bruised heart intact.
 
An Excerpt From: MAKE-BELIEVE LOVER

© Copyright ASHLEY LADD, 2006.
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave, Inc.

They must have trudged five miles over the arduous hills when a thunderous sound startled her. A moment later, wide-winged dragons straddled by primitive warriors roared from behind a mountain.

Her hand trembling, she pointed at the sky even as she squatted down in self-defense. “Oh my God, Giz. Do you see what I see?”

The cat gulped and he covered his eyes with his paws. “If you see big flying dinosaurs, uh huh.”

When one of the gigantic winged creatures nose-dived not far distant, Gizmo threw himself to the ground, covered his head, and hissed, “Hit the deck and don’t make a sound.”

Way ahead of him, she flung herself to the rocky terrain.

A lyrical voice announced out of nowhere, “You have walked six point two miles, seven-thousand three-hundred, twenty-one steps.”

Cripes! Her bigmouth pedometer chose this moment to go off?

Yanking the lousy thing off her elastic waistband, she dashed it to the ground. “Thanks for nothing.” The least it could do was tell her how many calories she’d burned or sing a decent song, instead of that funky aerobic workout music.

One of the flying lizards picked that instant to spin and make eye contact. Baring its filthy, razor-sharp teeth, the beast swooped down from the air, swallowed her pedometer, and then plucked her from the ground.

The no-good gadget kept chirping from inside the monster’s belly, mocking her. At least, it had gotten its just rewards, having given away her location to the fiend.

Kicking and struggling with all her might, she screamed, “Gizmo!”

She clawed at her barbaric captor’s eyes. “Put me down!”

The armor-clad creep astride the dragon guffawed and clamped meaty vice-like hands around her wrists pinning them to her side. His malevolent beady-eyed gaze bore into her. “Keep this up, wench, and I’ll drop you here—from a thousand meters. Your pretty face will get all mangled.”

The dragon turned its reptilian face to leer and dipped its right wing so that she would have tumbled off if not for the brute’s slimy hold. Then it snorted a fireball in her direction that fried the bush a mere foot to her right.

She got the message that she was their guest—or their Bar-B-Q. “What do you want with me? I have no money. This is dollar-store jewelry, but it’s all yours.”

“You will inform the King whose army you are spying for.” He fingered her tousled hair and grunted. “What kingdom has blue-haired nymphs?”

Then he tugged at her psychedelic nurse’s tunic. “And what matter of outlandish garb is this? What form of material?”

Army? Kingdom? Nymph?

She glanced down at her hot pink, cotton-blend tunic that rained cats and dogs. Should she give him her employer’s name? In the war movies the prisoners offered their name, rank, and serial number. “I’m Rebecca Weiss, I’m an office manager for a pediatric clinic, and I’m not giving you my social security number and having you steal my identity.”

“Stay cool, Becca! We’ll get out of this.” Gizmo yelled from the back of another dragon as it pulled around them.

The man’s bushy uni-brow puckered. “You speak in strange riddles. You will be truthful with King Heinrich or you will be locked in the dungeon.”

Dungeons? Dragons? King Heinrich?

Make-Believe Lover is available at Ellora's Cave.

Here are several awesome excerpts from other authors participating in today's Saturday Snippets. Please check them out and have some fun. After this brutal week we need a little diversion.

McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
Ashley Ladd
Shelley Munro
Mari Carr
Jody Wallace
Shelli Stevens
Victoria Janssen
TJ Micheals

Saturday Snippets: Unusual Professions

Today's Saturday Snippets deal with unusual professions.

I looked through my books and pondered which of my characters have unusual professions: the topless waittress (Naked Ambition), queen of a cartoon world (Make-Believe Lover), professional blogger (Liquid Heat), or the newly turned vampire who fancies himself a super hero (Truth, Justice and the Vampire Way), etc. I decided to feature Felicia in "Wishcraft". She's a nice witch who makes love potions for people. They don't always work the way they're supposed to, especially when the ghosts of her great aunt and grandfather dabble in her potions. But they come up with interesting results that creates some confusion and even some fun - just like falling in love the usual way.

Wishcraft

by Ashley Ladd

Felicia likes to dabble in love potions, but when she brews one for her old enemy Acacia, it goes awry when Acacia’s intended, Jeremy Knowles, falls for Felicia.

Jeremy pursues Felicia and although she fears it’s only spell-induced, Felicia can’t resist his charms. She only hopes that she won’t be forced to turn Acacia into a toad to keep the secret so that Jeremy won’t find out, before she can confess her sins.

EXCERPT:


By reading any further, you are stating that you are 18 years of age, or over.

If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.

Copyright © Ashley Ladd, 2007

All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Total-e-bound.

Excerpt from: Wishcraft

Drawing together her brows, Felicia checked her mental agenda as she gave her potion one last stir, and then went to see who was brave enough to venture here without an invitation. No one was scheduled, and her clients were well schooled to ring before venturing here. No one visited the Heks’ house unless they were an out-of-town salesman or a lost traveller who hadn’t been spoon fed the gruesome, if made up, stories about human sacrifices and demonic rituals.

“Felicia, open up! I hear you scuttling around in there,” Acacia Pangbourn’s voice shrilled through the house just before the floorboards creaked suspiciously.

Mere seconds later, the door slammed testifying to an illegal entry.

Blimey! Acacia was one of Felicia’s ex-classmates, a ghastly creature who’d made her secondary school years a constant misery. Not only had she made goo goo eyes at every man in whom Felicia had shown an interest, she’d committed the unforgivable crime of trying to steal Jeremy. The other woman had never known how close she had come to being turned into a chalkboard eraser.

To her dismay, Felicia discovered the woman was already through the front door and well into the house before she could catch her. Swearing under her breath, she followed the whispery sound of her nemesis’ footsteps on the throw rugs.

After her father had expunged Jeremy’s memories of their beautiful night together and had made Felicia swear never to date another Naggie, not even to talk to another one, the embers of the dead flame had blazed to life. Of course, she had done a little fanning. Okay, more than a little.

No matter what her father had decreed, no matter how much she respected her pop, she couldn’t live her life without Jeremy. She’d had to face the facts—she was a Jeremy addict. He had been as heroin in her blood. His presence intoxicated her and she savoured every memory of their cherished night.

And so, unable to live without him, she’d won back his love.

One summery night after they had graduated, they slow danced under the moonlight, wrapped in each other’s arms. Lost in love, teetering on the precipice of ecstasy just holding one another, they’d gazed into each other’s eyes.

“You’re a vision,” he’d murmured against her lips, his breath minty and highly stimulating.

With a halo of moonlight making his dark hair gleam, he was the vision. As if struck by lightning, she’d sucked in a ragged breath and huskily murmured, “So are you.” Then, with her heart hammering with such force she feared it would spill from her chest, she’d stood on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his.

Without hesitation, he’d accepted her gift, drawing her up to him. Plundering each other’s lips, they’d let their tongues finish the tango. Fevered, she’d moulded herself against him, noting how perfectly they fit. Only a brief twinge of guilt had crept in to dim her bliss. How could a magical person, or “Maggie,” as they called themselves, fit so well with a Naggie? According to her father, this was impossible—and more than distasteful.

She’d found it anything but distasteful. Jeremy was the most luscious man she’d ever met, his touch the only one that had ever made her senses whirl.

“I only feel alive when I’m with you. All I ever want to be is with you.” It had taken a lot of courage for her to admit this to herself, much less to him. Her father would have disowned her. Her family would have mourned the unholy association. They’d sooner have seen her copulate with a demon.

“I can’t believe what a lucky bloke I am, to have such a beautiful woman in love with me.” He’d stroked her hair away from her flushed cheeks and then nibbled on her ear. His hands had roamed her back and settled on her bottom before he pulled her hips tight against his.

Only later in retrospect had she noted that he hadn’t declared undying love for her. Wryly, her lips twisted. Had it all been one-sided? Oh, sure, he’d been consumed with lust. But love? If it had been love, would any spell have vanquished it?

She didn’t know, but she shook her head.

Now, as then, Jeremy wouldn’t go away. Rather, the memory of him refused to leave her in peace.

Wishcraft is available at: Total-E-Bound


McKenna Jeffries


Vivian Arend

Ashley Ladd

Kelly Maher

Lissa Matthews

Mari Carr

Jody Wallace

Shelley Munro

Taige Crenshaw

Saturday Snippets: Near Death Experiences

My Saturday Snippet is more of a death experience but since it involves becoming one of the undead, I hope it qualifies in today's category. My excerpt is from my vampire story "Truth, Justice and the Vampire Way".

When Tony Nelson is swept off his feet by Genevieve, an eight-hundred-year-old vampire queen who doesn’t look a day over thirty, it’s quickly apparent sucking his blood isn’t all the sexy vampire has in mind. But Tony has bigger plans for his undeath than a sexual attraction that sizzles his synapses.


Torn between his insatiable hunger for Genevieve and his desire to celebrate his new “super” powers by fighting crime in Ft. Lauderdale, Tony butts heads with the feisty queen more than once.

But when his superhero deeds threaten his new family, leading their arch-enemies, the werecats, straight to their door, Tony has a difficult choice to make—one that will have ramifications for all of them.

Excerpt: Truth, Justice and the Vampire Way

Tony Nelson yawned widely against his palm as he navigated downtown Ft. Lauderdale streets in the middle of the night on his rescue mission to save his neighbor’s sister. As usual Carlos’s rickety low rider was out of commission, and as usual, he’d turned to his good buddy, unable-to-say-no-pal, Tony, to save the day.


Tony really didn’t mind. He enjoyed helping people. His ex called it his curse. He considered it his blessing. He’d made humanitarianism his life’s mission. He’d never forgive himself if anything happened to a sweet young girl like Maria.

Even though Carlos should have ridden along with him, he wouldn’t hold Carlos’ lack of chivalry against the young woman. Downtown Ft. Lauderdale was no place for a young girl to be stranded alone in the middle of the night. He wasn’t particularly thrilled to be here himself and he was a powerfully built thirty-one-year-old man.

From out of nowhere, two bats swooped in front of his coupe, forcing him to slam on the brakes. The car spun out, before it skidded dizzily atop the curb, landing with a sickening thump.

Bats? In downtown Ft. Lauderdale?

Gaping in the rear view mirror, Tony blinked. One of the bats lay hurt in the middle of the deserted boulevard. Eerie fluorescent green light bathed the winged creature. His heart went out to the injured mammal and he loped over to it and knelt by its side. Stroking it gently, he asked, “You breathing, little guy? I didn’t think I hit you.” He hadn’t felt a collision, not even a little thud.

But everything had happened so fast anything was possible. He checked the raven creature for blood and broken bones, his fingers ginger. Or did bats have cartilage? And how could he tell if cartilage was broken?

Before his eyes, beneath his hands, the bat turned into an exquisite raven-haired nymph with alabaster flesh that gleamed pearlescent under the flickering street lamp. The beauty’s sooty lashes fluttered and then she widened the most stunning jade eyes he’d ever gazed into, eyes that instantly cast a bewitching spell over him. She cast a glance over his shoulder and arched a finely shaped brow. “This one?”

A man’s amiable voice answered from very close behind him. “He’s the one. Do it.”

Tony blinked, hoping he’d return from the Twilight Zone. But the siren was still there when he opened his eyes. Only now the shadow of a man mingled with hers. “What just happened?” He didn’t discount aliens or dreams.

“I just won my bet,” the man said, a warble of a smile in his voice.

The woman frowned, darkening, but not obscuring her exotic beauty with her alabaster complexion and long, wavy raven locks. The sparkle of a diamond stud in her pert nose drew his gaze. “Not yet.”

What bet? And what alternate universe had the odd pair come from?

“Uh, are you okay? Do you need a lift somewhere? Do you need to use my cell phone?” He fished in his pocket for the wireless gadget and then flipped it open and held it out to them.

“See?” the flamboyant man said as he rounded Tony. “A truly nice guy.”

The woman’s scowl deepened as she circled him, looking him up and down as if he was a showroom model. “Debatable.” She flung herself into Tony’s arms and ripped open his favorite Prada dress shirt and sank her fangs into his breast.

Truth, Justice and the Vampire Way available at: Ellora's Cave


Vivian Arend

Moira Rogers

Ashley Ladd

Jaci Burton

Kelly Maher

Leah Braemel

McKenna Jeffries

Sasha White

Taige Crenshaw

Shelli Stevens

Shelley Munro

Eliza Gayle

Jody Wallace

Juliana Stone

Saturday Snippets: Parties

This week's Snippet Saturday theme is parties.

My daughters attended a Christmas party yesterday. I have two this coming week. It's certainly a happy season.

There are parties and there are parties. My first snippet is a sad party of one. That's not the type any of us anticipate but a lot of us have endured them nevertheless.

As I hate to leave things on a sad note, I'll post a second, happier excerpt to lift the spirits.

Here's the first from "Christmas Miracles" a Christmas story obviously, published by Total-E-Bound.

Tifanny gains courage from a visit by the Ghost of Christmas Past to reunite with three important people from her past.

Tiffany's alone and lonely again this Christmas until the Ghost of Christmas Past takes her to revisit her cousin, her best friend, and her lost love, Dax. Although she's not sure it wasn't just a bad dream induced by an overload of Christmas movies and spiked Eggnog, she still tries to make things better with the people she lost long ago.

But her mission's tougher than she'd hoped and she's only got till the Epiphany before real life reclaims her and she has to return to the day job a thousand miles away.

Excerpt from: Christmas Miracles


Tiffany Davis stared at her ornately decorated tree tied up with fancy, blue and silver ribbons. It was absolutely perfect. The built-in, multicoloured lights merrily twinkled at just the right intervals. A gorgeous angel with serenely flowing blonde hair topped the tree.

Beneath the tree, beautifully wrapped gifts were piled high, also in blue and silver to match. Only she knew they were empty, merely for decoration and affectation.

They were as fake as the pine scent she’d sprayed on the metal monstrosity, as fake and empty as she was.

She snorted. Who was she kidding?

This year, like many of the previous ones, she found Christmas depressing. An only child of deceased parents, divorced, childless, she was alone in the world.

Oh, sure, she had a lot of friends. Go-to-lunch kind of friends. None had invited her to join them for their Christmas celebrations.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Her cousins had invited her, but they were a day’s drive away, and she couldn’t justify travelling so far with the astronomical gas prices when she only had a three-day weekend off work. Besides, it wasn’t like they were close. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen them since her mom had died ten years ago.

Thoughts of her mother rumbled in her mind. Tears pricked the back of her eyes, and she choked on a sob. God, she missed her mom like hell. And she felt guilty she hadn’t spent more time with her. But Tiffany had been too busy building her career. She’d always thought they’d have plenty of time.

Her mom’s favourite Christmas CD by Elvis filled the empty apartment. Then the AC whooshed on, and a dry chuckle tickled her throat. AC—on Christmas Eve? That and hurricanes were what she got for living in Southern Florida. It was nothing like the white snowy Christmases she used to love in Cincinnati.

She thought about attending midnight mass and hearing the beautiful bell choir, but voted against it as she’d feel even more alone in the crowd of families and loving couples. Instead, she turned on the TV and landed on a station that was having a Christmas marathon, starting with a Jimmy Stewart tear-jerker.

Although she was on a perpetual diet, she felt sorry enough for herself to open the box of iced Christmas cookies a co-worker had given her and pour a glass of eggnog to sip as she watched the show. Curling her feet beneath her on the couch, splayed her Christmas skirt over her knees then dipped her cookies in the drink. She wondered if the world would miss her like they had Jimmy Stewart. She had no husband. No kids. Not even a dog. She wasn’t a humanitarian like Jimmy was in the movie—she sold socks for a living. Not cute, frilly socks. Just plain white socks.

Maybe she should get a dog, she mused. At least, she’d have a warm body to cuddle, and someone who would be eager to see her when she got home from work. She’d always had a dog as a kid, usually a big, lovable husky.

She sighed as reality decked her square between the eyes. She worked and travelled way too much. It wouldn’t be fair to a dog to leave it alone so much.

In a fit of self pity, she downed the rest of her eggnog in one gulp and flicked the TV to another station. She didn’t need any more tear-jerkers tonight. She felt sorry enough for herself as it was.

Again it was a blasted Christmas movie, but at least it was a funny one with Bill Murray getting the snot kicked out of him by a pissed-off angel. Much more in keeping with her style and her mood. She dimmed the lights, stretched out on the couch and laughed despite herself as the miserable wretch got himself Scrooged by the three ghosts of Christmas.

At the stroke of midnight, she sat up long enough to lift another glass of eggnog. “To me. To Christmas,” she murmured ruefully. She couldn’t wait for the holidays to be over so she’d stop feeling so wretched.

Book DetailsErotic Rating Total-e-burning

Christmas Miracles is available at: Total-E-Bound

Here's a much happier holiday excerpt from "Naughty Boys" also published by Total-E-Bound.

Drew's had other Secret Santas but never one like this - one that gives him erotic sex toys every day of the week leading up to Christmas and the masquerade Christmas party.

When Ryan picks Drew's name in the office Secret Santa draw, he can't help but spoil the man of his fantasies. He finds that it really is better to give than receive when he has fun sneaking sex toys into Drew's office every day of the week before Christmas. He hopes Drew will be as turned on as him, and that Drew will return his feelings to make this their best Christmas ever.

Excerpt from: Naughty Boys


Ryan Holt fished around in the Santa cap his co-worker Angie held out and pulled out a name. He wondered if he would throw away good money again this Christmas.

Last year, his secret Santa had given him a box of envelopes. Not fancy stationery. Just envelopes.

He scrunched his brows.

What a cheap bastard!

And he’d spent a lot of time and effort getting a good gift last year, and he’d dropped a wad of cash.

He hoped he’d picked his own name as he had his eye on Josh Groban’s Christmas CD. He could hear Josh’s golden tones caressing his ears now. He could feel them vibrating in his soul.

In holiday heaven, he rocked back in his chair and unfolded the slip of paper as he hummed the tune tickling his mind.

His jaw dropped when he stared at the name written in bold, sexy scroll and his heart skipped several beats before racing full speed ahead.

Drew Mason.

God, Drew was what he really longed for Santa to leave in his stocking, all six feet three of gorgeous, delectable man. Forget Josh Groban.

Drew’s blond vision flashed in his mind, and Ryan drooled. His cock flexed, as he longed to take his fantasy man into his arms, drink deeply of his lips, and strip him of his clothes. He yearned to see every naked, mouth watering inch of him. He lusted for carnal knowledge in the worst way. His two-year old bed was still a virgin, and it was high time it got worn in.

A grin tilted his lips as he envisioned wrapping his fully aroused body around Drew’s and pulling him into the cradle of his thighs. He could almost feel Drew’s cock rubbing against his, could feel his powerful thighs fitting against him as if they were made for each other. Their musk overpowered the scent of Christmas pine and peppermint. Already, their sweet juices oozed from their cocks which were so ready to fuck one another.

Their gazes glazed over with passion as they caught and held. Ryan grew hotter still when Drew’s tongue darted out, moistening his suddenly dry lips. Then slowly, sensually, Drew lowered his lips and his breath coasted over Ryan before plundering his lips with a hot, fevered kiss and rubbing his groin against his.

Ryan’s blood was on fire, he couldn’t wait a moment longer to make Drew his. Savouring his closeness, the feel of his hard body, he let his ragged voice whisper over his lover’s warm flesh, “Love me. Let me love you. Fate brought us together.”

Drew huskily drawled, “Stop talking so much and kiss me again.”

Oh he wanted a whole lot more than a mere kiss, but he laid a big wet one on the man as he reverently laid him on the bed. When he came up for air, he lubed his cock then he rocked back and hoisted his lover onto his lap.

“Fuck me now,” Drew implored, his beautiful eyes adoring him, his hand pumping his cock. “Before I come without you.”

From the hazy edges of his peripheral vision, Angie snapped her fingers in front of Ryan’s face. “Earth to Ryan. Come in, Ryan.”

Embarrassed, aware of the humongous bulge in his pants, he rolled his chair beneath his desk to hide his obvious erection. Not that Drew worked in his end of the building. It was unlikely the man would walk by and see him, but Angie would blab to anybody who would listen. Worse, she might think him hot for her.

“Uh, I was just thinking about my, uh, work project…”

Damn! He cursed himself for how raspy his voice came out.

Book DetailsErotic Rating Total-e-burning

Genre Seasonal/ Contemporary/ MM

"Naughty Boys"is  available at: Total-E-Bound


Please visit the other authors participating in today's Snippet Saturdays and read their excerpts.

Vivian Arend

Moira Rogers

Ashley Ladd

Kelly Maher

Leah Braemel

McKenna Jeffries

Sasha White

Taige Crenshaw

Shelli Stevens

Shelley Munro

Eliza Gayle

Jody Wallace

Elizabeth Naughton

TJ Michaels


Recent posts you might like to read:

When Do You Write?

Nanowrimo Thoughts 

To Nano Or Not To Nano - That Is The Question

Why You Should Consider Library Booksignings

Make Sure Pretentious Words Don't Turn Off Your Readers

Are You Writing Me Into Your Book?

Dont Give Up Too Early

Must Write Must Write Must Write!!!

You'll also want to see what Amarinda Jones, Anika Hamilton, Anny Cook, Barbara Huffert, Brynn Paulin, Bronwyn Green, Dakota Rebel, Kelly Kirch, Molly Daniels, Sandra Cox, Regina Carlysle, and Cindy Spencer Pape are up to, so make sure to visit them also. :)

Saturday Snippet: Secondary Characters

The theme for this week is secondary characters.

Secondary characters add another dimension to a story: comic relief, danger and sometimes the plot hinges on a secondary character.

That's the case with "Sorry Charlie" an M/M story in the "Friction" anthology coming out in print by Total-E-Bound Monday December 7, 2009.

In "Sorry Charlie" Charlie's dad wants to make up after a 17-year family feud.

He's overjoyed, excited, and nervous as hell that his father is finally accepting his sexual orientation and speaking to him after a 17-year family feud but Charlie can't understand why his long-term partner Jonathan is acting jealous and clingy, when he should be happy for him or at least supportive.

Jon's afraid Charlie's family will hurt him again and he doesn't know if he can mend Charlie's heart if it shatters a second time or stand by and watch while Charlie sets himself up for more heartbreak.

Charlie's father is the catalyst for the story. Before Charlie's father came back into the picture, there was no conflict, thus no story.

Another secondary character in this story is Adam. Adam's a fun character. He's Charlie's and Jon's friend and provides the comic relief. In the act of trying to make Jon feel better, he causes more complications in an already complicated, emotional situation. The story wouldn't be the same without Charlie's father or Adam.




Excerpt From: Sorry Charlie

Search your feelings. You know I’m your father. The words rang in Charlie Lang’s head. For the past seventeen years, he’d wished anyone but Asa Charles Lang was his dad, even Darth Vader. His father made Vader look like a pussycat. At least, he’d wanted Luke once he’d found out about him.

Asa had been there at the moment of Charlie’s birth. He’d raised him ‘til he was seven when Charlie’s parents split. That’s when Asa had stolen off in the night to escape his debts, and according to Charlie’s mother, Gail, all his responsibilities to them. He’d found a new wife, made new kids, and only saw Charlie every few years for a measly day or two at a time.

Still, it hadn’t been too bad ‘til Charlie had come out of the closet at age twenty-two and announced he was gay. Then Asa, his stepmom, Sharon, and his half-siblings had disowned him. They’d declared him dead to them.

The thought of running into them on the street had his partner, Jonathan, freaking out.

Now Sharon and a half-brother were dead and buried, and his other sibs had moved away, leaving Asa alone. Now, he was ready to forgive Charlie and rebuild their relationship.

Charlie rubbed the half-day’s growth of beard on his chin and shook his head. This was a good thing. Right?

“I can’t do this with you right now,” he told Jonathan. “I have to meet my dad.” Charlie stood tall and didn’t allow himself to flinch—not outwardly anyway. He also didn’t let Jonathan’s pretty-boy looks or his pout sway him from today’s outing.

Jonathan glared and scrunched his nose. He threw down his towel like a gauntlet, leaving him naked. “When will you have time for me? This man abandoned you for seventeen years, trashed you to everyone you knew and made our lives hell. And now, you run every time he calls. I don’t get it. Explain it to me.”

"Sorry Charlie" in the "Friction" anthology is available in e-book now and print Monday Dec. 7, 2009 at Total-E-Bound.

To read more Snippet Saturday excerpts about secondary characters follow the links below:


Shelli Stevens
Leah Braemel
Anya Bast
Mandy Roth
Victoria Janssen
Sasha White

Vivian Arend
Ashley Ladd
Jaci Burton
Taige Crenshaw
Shelley Munro
TJ Michaels
Juliana Stone
Eliza Gayle
McKenna Jeffries
Moira Rogers 

Jody Wallace

Kelly Maher
Lauren Dane
Ashley Ladd


Recent posts you might like to read:

When Do You Write?

Nanowrimo Thoughts 

To Nano Or Not To Nano - That Is The Question

Why You Should Consider Library Booksignings

Make Sure Pretentious Words Don't Turn Off Your Readers

Are You Writing Me Into Your Book?

Dont Give Up Too Early

Must Write Must Write Must Write!!!

Saturday Snippets: Departures

Today's Saturday excerpts are all about departures.

My excerpt takes departures to the extreme. If you know me, you know I love what my kids term "end of the world movies". Picture "2012", "Knowing", "Independence Day" and "Day After Tomorrow" to get an idea.

Astronaut Major David Randolph is the last human male alive after Earth blows up. Colonel Genie Siska and David witness Earth's explosion from their space ship. In shock and despair, the couple run through a myriad of emotions. Although Genie's always been highly attracted to the major, he's also fourteen years younger than her. Even though he's literally the last man left alive, she still doesn't know if she can take a man so much younger than her as her lover.

David's always been in love with his commanding officer, and he's frustrated that even now, she resists him. They are literally mankind's last chance for survival. Or are they? When they are "rescued" or is it kidnapped by aliens, the whole picture changes. However, they are not sure if it's for better or worse.

Excerpt from: Last Man on Earth

USAF Colonel Genie Siska gaped at the blinding lights pinpointing the Earth. In shock, she wasn’t sure if she was speaking aloud or thinking, “My dear God. What’ve they done? How could they?”

“God save our souls,” Major David Randolph whispered beside her. His shoulder crowded hers and his hip bumped her as he ran back to his station.

The com channels were frantic with chatter. Maydays arose in every language. Reports of massive death and destruction filled Genie’s ears as she stared in disbelief from the command link to the planet below. Her fingers dug into the ledge in front of her, and she feared she’d sink to the ground if she let go. “How can they do this?”

She prayed to God for forgiveness and deliverance.

“Don’t just stand there, Colonel!” David grabbed her and dragged her into their escape ship. “We’ve got to get out of here now. If the planet explodes, it’ll blast apart the station.”

Earth explode?

She gulped. Her heart shattered as she envisioned the fiery deaths of all the children of Earth. The babies. The animals. All innocents. None deserving of the fate their elders decreed.

Mutely, swallowing hard, hoping David’s words weren’t prophetic, she forced herself to focus. But she couldn’t wrap her mind around the possible reality.

She helped David steer the ship out into space far enough for safety but close enough to see their home. When he put his arm around her, she didn’t demur. Rather, she wrapped her arms around him and laid her cheek on his shoulder, taking comfort from his steady heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest. “Why is this happening?”

He squeezed her shoulder and huskily murmured, “Who really knows? Greed? Selfishness? Stupidity? Religious fanaticism?”

A sad snort arose from her lips, and she struggled to hold back tears and not damn all the religious nuts to hell. For heaven’s sake, USAF Colonels didn’t cry. In particular, female officers couldn’t show such weakness or her troops lose respect. She’d rather be a tough bitch. But against orders, tears clung to her lashes, and she tried to blink them back. “So we blew ourselves up in the name of God?”

He pressed his lips to her temple. “Quite possibly. We’ll never know.”

He sounded so much more mature than his mere twenty-eight years, and she burrowed into his strength.

The ship rocked with shock waves, and she gasped. Blinding light and meteors hurled at them.

“Damn! The idiots really did it,” David seethed and gathered her closer and held her tightly as if he craved the human contact.

Anxious for affirmation she wasn’t alone in the big, cold universe, she clutched him. Tears dropped unchecked from her eyes and sobs racked her throat. Although she’d never married nor had children, her heart ached for her nephew and her sister, for all the lost souls, for lost dreams, for the terror and pain everyone must have felt.

Furious at the sons of bitches who’d turned the doomsday switches, she flung back her head and howled her rage, and she pummelled her fists against David’s chest. “We’re dead! This is the end of the human race. How could we?”

A million visions collided in her mind, changing with such lightning speed she grew dizzy and crumpled to the floor. Gasping for air, her sobs came on hiccoughs. Irony in her voice, she mused, “I never thought it fair to marry or have kids as I thought my mission too dangerous, that I’d be the one to die in this godforsaken space…and now we’re the only ones left.”

David hunkered down on his haunches and stroked her face. His intensely blue gaze bore into her. Very sombrely and seriously he said, “We weren’t the only satellite orbiting Earth. The Russians and the Chinese are up here, too.”

“If they didn’t get pulverised.” Acid tears burned her eyes and hovered on her lashes. They burned her eyes much like the explosion burned away Earth’s atmosphere.

Again, David pulled her close and rocked back and forth with her in his arms. “Shush. We’ll make it. We’re resilient.”

She peeked out the window at the spookily empty space—empty barring all the dust and debris from their home.

Damn it! It shouldn’t be so beautiful, like sparkling fairy dust.

Last Man on Earth is available at Total-E-Bound.

Read more departures here: Vivian Arend, Jody Wallace, Kelly Maher, Eliza Gayle, Lauren Dane, Taige Crenshaw, Shelley Munro, Savannah Foley, Moira Rogers

Snippet Saturday: Weaponry

Today's Snippet Saturday excerpts are about weaponry. I haven't seen 

the other authors' excerpts for today as I post this, but I imagine

most of their "weaponry" are classic like swords and guns.

My weaponry is a bit...different. Read on, you'll see.

This is an excerpt from my romantica comedy "Purrfect Justice" 

available at Ellora's Cave. 

“Officers in trouble at
Commercial and 44th!” Cole’s voice barked from the scanner.
Gunshots ricocheted in the background. “Need immediate assistance! Send
backup! Sniper on roof!”



Haley almost fell off her chair. Oh,
God. Her stomach flip-flopped as she stared at the little black box
crackling with static. Why did Cole have to keep getting into these dangerous
situations? Did he have a death wish? Or maybe she just worried about him more
than the others, and so it seemed that way?



She could help him again. A thrill
shot through her as she recalled the previous evening’s escapades. She’d
enjoyed thwarting the bad guy and saving a handsome man.



But she didn’t have the authority
to interfere. She didn’t have a badge, and she never would. Neither Superman
nor Batman had ever had a badge, nor any of a host of other superheroes. Not
that she was a superhero—just a concerned citizen. When she got right down to
it, Superman and Batman were just glorified concerned citizens, right? No one
had ever denied their help. Why should they deny hers? Cole had seemed grateful
the night before. Surely he’d be grateful again.



She studied herself critically in
her bedroom mirror, turning this way and that, pulling faces. She stuck her
tongue out at herself. Would he recognize her in this get-up? Could she get
away with it again? Should she change back into her Catwoman suit? 



“Car 85 is on the way. Estimated
arrival is ten minutes.” Sheila’s voice vibrated over the radio. Haley
would recognize her nasal voice anywhere.



Cole swore. She knew that he knew he couldn’t swear over
the police airwaves, but his voice was distant as if he’d covered the radio. “We’ll
be mincemeat in ten minutes! Get someone here sooner!”



“Will try.” An edge sliced
through Sheila’s professional tones.



Haley lived right around the corner. She could make it
sooner if she went as she was. She’d pray he wouldn’t recognize her wearing the
wig in the dark. She’d stick to the shadows. Stopping only to grab her keys,
not even her purse or identification, she ran to her car. But the stupid thing
coughed and spluttered. “Don’t you dare throw a hissy-fit now, Missy,” she
ordered, slamming the flat of her hand on the steering wheel. She cranked the
engine again, encouraging it to work. “Cole’s depending on us! You can do it.” 



But Missy either wasn’t listening
or didn’t care. Or maybe she was afraid of doing a little police work. Missy
backfired and died. A plume of smoke curled up from the grill that smelled
oily, gagging Haley.



“What now?” Cole needed her.



She spied Sher’s motorcycle. Did
she dare borrow it? Would her friend let her use it? Haley had learned how to
ride one in her academy training. She ran back to Sher’s apartment and banged
on the door.



Haley cut Sher off when she opened
her mouth. “”Keys now! I need your wheels. It’s life and death.” She held her
hand out, palm up under her friend’s nose. “I know how to ride a cycle. I
promise I won’t put a scratch on her.” She crossed her toes, hoping neither she
nor the bike got caught in crossfire. “I’ll owe you big time.”



Sher cleared her throat. “You
already owe me big time. So who’s dying?” 



“No time. I’ll fill you in later. Thanks!” She snatched
the keys and raced away, praying her impulsive friend wouldn’t follow her.
That’s all she needed was for her to get in the way or stop her. She jumped on
the cycle, and it purred to life as soon as she turned the key in the ignition,
thank God.



A few revs of the engine later, and she closed in on Cole
and Brad. It was another moonless night, so she could barely make out their
shapes huddled behind their unmarked brown sedan. At least she presumed it was
the cops and not the robbers. She stopped and hid the bike in a grove of palm
trees, and then slunk along the sides of the buildings so as not to be seen, so
she could scope out the situation. 



Someone had barbecued in one of the
nearby apartments and the scent lingered on the muggy air. It mingled with the
odor of several fast food restaurants dotting Commercial Boulevard, almost
nauseating her. The oil from the burger joints almost clogged her pores it was
so thick. She covered her nose and breathed through her mouth. 



Gunfire rang out, and she stopped
dead, not daring to breathe. The flash of flame had burst forth from the roof
of the mall. It was only a one-story structure, and she had a good view of the
man from her position. His focus was on the cops, and he hadn’t glanced her way
even once. She could sneak up on his rear and startle him long enough for Cole
and his partner to get the drop on him. Then she could sneak away, and Cole
wouldn’t even know she’d been there. 



Crouching low, she wound her way
through the maze of buildings until she came up on the sniper’s rear in the
alley sandwiched between the strip mall and a dark, eerie canal. Moonlight
glinted off a hubcap, beckoning to her. Even though it lay in a circle of
light, she chanced retrieving it. It could serve many useful purposes—a shield,
a weapon, or a noisemaker to distract the gunman. 



“Throw down your guns and come out
with your hands up,” a strange voice commanded, followed by an evil laugh that
cut straight through Haley. It wasn’t a voice she recognized, so it had to
belong to the shooter. “Do it now, or I’ll shoot! I have you in my sights.”



Heavy metal clanged on the asphalt.
Then the sound repeated. 



Oh, no. Both Cole and Brad
must have followed orders and were now at the criminal’s mercy. She didn’t trust
the man not to shoot now that he had the men at his mercy. Time was up. She had
to do something.



An idea popped into her head. She
banged the hubcap on the ground so that it sounded like a cymbal, and then
shouted, “Drop your weapon! We have you surrounded!” When she got him in her
sights, she flung the hubcap like a Frisbee with all her might. It knocked the
gun out of his hand as the bullet exploded in her direction.



She ducked and felt the bullet whiz
by her temple. Seconds later, she heard the gun clatter to the pavement,
followed by pounding footsteps and men’s urgent voices. 



“Get him!” Cole shouted as
footsteps hammered the ground closer and closer to her. He rounded the corner,
and she knew how a deer trapped in headlights felt. She froze for a split
second before panic propelled her to run. 



“Hey, you! Stop!” 



She’d sooner be kidnapped by aliens
than have him capture her. Adrenaline burst through her, catapulting her
forward. 



“Halt! By order of the police!” 



 Haley’s heart was about to burst, but she kept
going. She dragged the bike out of the bushes, hopped on, kick started it, and
sped off, kicking dust and rocks behind her. 



"Purrfect Justice" is available at Ellora's Cave.

Anya Bast
Vivian Arend
Ashley Ladd
Leah Braemel
Jaci Burton
Taige Crenshaw
Shelley Munro
Sasha White
Jody Wallace 
TJ Michaels
Victoria Janssen
Elisabeth Naughton

Snippet Saturday: Emotional Excerpts

My husband is trying to have AT&T U-Verse installed. So far, 

after four days, our Internet service has been down most of the 

time. Thus, I've missed you for the past few days and I'm sure

I've also missed important emails. If you've sent anything to

me and I haven't responded, please keep trying.  

Also please excuse the formatting. I'm having trouble straightening 

it out tonight and have little time to do it. But I can't let 

down the group. 

This is an emotional excerpt from my Christmas m/f erotic romance 

"Christmas Miracles".

Christmas Miracles is available at: Total-E-Bound 

Tiffany gasped for air and then
 frantically felt around her body taking inventory of all the parts when she
came to in a dim, chilly room. Squinting, she felt out of place. She had no
idea where she was and she was thoroughly discombobulated.







She looked around and found the
ghost less than a foot behind her. Startled, she let out a little yelp. Then
anger set in and she glowered at the phantom. “Okay, you, take me home this
instant. I don’t like being hijacked. What do you think you are? The Ghost of
Christmas?”







The apparition emphatically
nodded and then pointed deep into the room.







“Yeah. Right. And I’m the
Pillsbury Doughboy.” She rolled her eyes.







The ghost floated deeper into the
room and pulled her with him. How, she had no clue, but she seemed to be caught
in a tractor beam.







At first, the room didn’t look
familiar, but then her memory was tickled. Suddenly her memory flooded back and
she regressed fifteen years into her past.







Off kilter, her breath ragged,
her pulse skittering in her wrist, she inventoried Dax’s apartment, the one
she’d thought to share with him one day, the one she’d practically moved in, if
not officially.







Still in disbelief, still
frightened, she ran toward the two people in the room, doubles of herself and
Dax. “Help! I’ve been kidnapped. Call the police.”







But the other people didn’t
flinch. They acted as if she wasn’t there.







Frustrated, about to scream, she
grabbed Dax’s arm to shake it, to make him notice her.







Unfortunately, her fingers went
through him. She didn’t feel a thing.







Frightened out of her mind, she
jerked back and on her ass went sprawling back several feet. She landed at the
Christmas creature’s feet.







She looked up at the spectre and
accused, “You’re the Ghost of Christmas Past?”







The creature nodded.







She still didn’t believe it and
pinched herself, digging her nails into her flesh. It stung and she jerked
back. “Ouch!”







The ghost forcefully pointed at
the scene unfurling a few feet away.







Compelled, she watched as Dax
took her in his arms and kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough. “I don’t know
what I’d ever do without you, baby. You’re part of me.”







With a dreamy smile her other
self melted against Dax and looped her arms around his neck. She rubbed her
nose against his. “Why do you say that? Aren’t we going to be together
forever?”







Tiffany snorted and her heart
threatened to break all over. She knew what was awaiting her hapless former
self and she moaned. “Get out now while the getting’s good,” she warned under
her breath, willing herself to flee.







But her younger self didn’t
budge. In fact, her younger self burrowed deeper into her lover’s arms, naïve
and setting herself up for heart break.







Her gut roiling, she
turned away, unable to live through this twice. 

Jaci Burton
Eliza Gayle
Michelle Pillow
Mandy Roth
Juliana Stone
Lacey Savage
 McKenna Jeffries
Moira Rogers 
Taige Crenshaw
Vivian Arend
 Sasha White
Ashley Ladd
Victoria Janssen
Shelli Stevens
Shelley Munro
TJ Michaels
Lauren Dane
Beth Kery
Leah Braemel 

Recent posts you might like to read:

Ghost Hunting at a Haunted Hotel

Welcome to the Spookiest Month of the Year (+ don't burn your Ouija Board!)

People Don't Fall Out of Trees - Without Reason 

I'm Part of a Tribe 

Big Brother Is Watching You - This Means You BLOGGERS!

Are You Writing Me Into Your Book?

Dont Give Up Too Early

Must Write Must Write Must Write!!!


You'll also want to see what Amarinda Jones, Anika Hamilton, Anny Cook,
Barbara Huffert, Brynn Paulin, Bronwyn Green, Dakota Rebel, Kelly Kirch,
Molly Daniels, Sandra Cox, Regina Carlysle, and Cindy Spencer Pape
are up to, so make sure to visit them also. :)

Recipe For Disaster

First, let me announce the winner of my new release today: "Recipe For Disaster". I had a contest on Twitter and anyone who retweeted my contest notice or left a comment on my blog since this started would be entered. Those who did both would have two chances to win.

And my winner is:

@RachelJameson 

 from Twitter

Congrats! Please email me so I can email your prize copy to you. I also DM'd you on Twitter, Rachel.

When I titled this post "Recipe For Disaster" I did so for two reasons.

The first will be obvious as it's the title of my new erotic romance released today at Total-E-Bound, "Recipe For Disaster".

It's also what I just realized I did to myself and why I almost had a nervous break down yesterday (the day I'm actually writing this post).

Why?

I was pre-editing my book "Bad Conduct" (sequel to "The Perfect Gift") which is scheduled to be released by TEB in April 2010 when I discovered a big chunk of the book was missing!

At first I thought I'd put something out of order and hadn't noticed it which is bad. As I read on, I realized I had done something worse. I'd left out a couple very important scenes.

I could remember writing the scenes. I was sure I had. Or was I going crazy?

I've always had excellent blood pressure. Once it dropped into a range of concern but it's never elevated into the danger zone on the high end. This time it skyrocketed and I was about to hyperventilate. I wanted to kick myself for turning this into my editor in such condition.

Again, I was sure those were there when I turned it in! But after double and triple checking it wasn't. Not on this computer. Not on the downstairs computer.

The answer was obvious (besides the one that I am a big idiot). I'd handwritten it and hadn't typed it in. What else was I to think?

So I tore apart my room looking for it. My family will tell you all about my millions of steno pads filled with handwritten stories and lists...and how I misplace my lists.

The part of the story I sought wasn't in my bedroom. So we tore apart my car and found at least six more notebooks. I really wasn't up to rewriting part of the story tonight when all I felt capable of was hiding in my bed with my covers pulled firmly over my head or breathing into a paper sack.

But success! After going through at least fifteen notebooks, I found the right one. So now I'm typing in the missed part. It's still a chore, but it's a lot easier than rethinking when I'm so drained and furious at myself.

This is my recipe for disaster - handing in something less than perfect - way less than perfect. Maybe I can convince my hubby to let me spend a couple hundred dollars on a new laptop battery now so I can get rid of my handwritten notebooks. I have to be able to write at the ball field as I spend so much time there, but it's crazy to have pieces of the story in different places.

Or maybe my hubby will just have me committed - on my release date. Wouldn't that be wonderful?

I'm probably not the only person who's ever gotten herself into a jam. I know I'm not and this isn't exactly life-altering. (Unless of course someone commits me.)

In my book "Recipe For Disaster" Jamie, the heroine, and her eccentric mother have gotten her into a much bigger mess than I'm in and she's about to lose her house and everything she holds dear. She can't merely type in or even rewrite a couple scenes to pull herself out of her mess. It's very serious.

Blurb: Recipe For Disaster by Ashley Ladd

Desperate, Jamie will do almost anything to save her house, her dogs, and her life but will she sell her soul?

Jamie's desperate. If her 401K emergency distribution isn't disbursed in time, she'll be a victim of the Florida foreclosures. If that's not bad enough, she's also in danger of losing her job and her beloved dogs.

Worse yet she hits Max with her car. Luckily, Max is better than fine and ready to jump into her life and her bed. Unluckily, he's afraid to tell her that he buys distressed properties and he was in her yard to check out her house.

Excerpt:

Jamie Covais would sell her soul to the devil to keep her house. She’d even sell her mother.

She did her best to keep her lips from trembling, from turning into a blathering blob of jelly at her attorney’s feet. She blinked back tears and shook her head. “I didn’t get any notices about a lawsuit. Doesn’t there have to be a summons or something? I didn’t sign anything…”

Carl Johnson, her attorney, levelled an asking stare at her. “Are you sure you received no summons? No one came to your door with a paper to sign?”

She thought hard until her mind began to melt, but there was no enlightenment. Her brains rattled when she shook her head. They were a perfect match to her broken heart. “No.”

Then a horrid thought struck her, and she couldn’t breathe. Wishing she didn’t have to admit this wouldn’t change the truth. “Sometimes Mom forgets to tell me things. She visited a couple times this year.” Carl pursed his lips, shook his grey head and hitched up his pant legs as he sank into his chair. He folded his hands in his lap as he leant back in his chair and regarded her with something akin to pity.

“She’s forgetful.” And irresponsible. And flighty. Unfortunately, the list of adjectives stretched beyond the horizon. Carl’s secretary, Nina, rapped on the door, and with an apologetic look, she carried papers to her boss. “Here’s what you asked for.”

After Nina handed them to him, she smiled shyly at Jamie and returned to her desk. Within seconds, rapid typing tickled Jamie’s ears. Carl perused the papers for several moments. The longer he read, the deeper his scowl etched into his forehead. Muttered oaths tumbled off his lips. Then he pushed his glasses down to the tip of his nose and gave her a penetrating look. “Is your mother Penelope Covais?”

Her breath hitched in her throat, and it was several moments before she could speak. What had dear old mom done this time? “Yes.”

“Is she a resident of this property? Or an owner?”

Again she squeaked out a ‘yes’ as the stars fell out her heaven. Nervous and scared to death, she pleated the folds of her skirt. God, she didn’t want to be another victim of the Florida housing crash, but she knew she was on the list.

Carl sighed heavily and leant back in his chair. He linked his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. “Lordy. This is a royal mess.”

She closed her eyes and tried to drag in breath, but it was ragged and painful. All her dreams became dust in the wind. Everything crumbled before her eyes. Then Carl leant forward and hope lit his clear blue eyes, much like those in the picture of his deceased son in the spot of honour on his desk.

“Is your mother suffering from dementia?”

Jamie blinked. God, she hoped not. Penelope had been erratic and eccentric even at twenty, but she hadn’t lost her mind. “Not that I know of, at least. It’s not been diagnosed.”

“Do you have any money? Anybody who can loan it to you? Your mom? You said she’s an owner, too.”

She’d been over it so often her head was going to explode. “Only in my 401K. But doesn’t it take a couple months to get the money out?”

Light flickered in the lawyer’s eyes, and he leant forward. “I don’t think so. Talk to your HR 401K administrator right away. Take these papers with you and show him.” Jamie accepted back her death decree. If she’d had this notification earlier when her mother had first signed, she could have raided her retirement account then filed bankruptcy or something. Now, with two weeks to the fateful day, she was out of time.

Acid ate at her stomach, and she wondered if she’d rather die than be homeless. Where would she live? Where would she go? Wouldn’t she have to file bankruptcy anyway? No way could she come up with the money to pay rent and whatever hefty penalties were assessed for reneging on her loan after the new buyer waltzed away with her house.

Most of all what would happen to Peter and Tinkerbell, her huskies?

Trying to at least look positive even though she was dying inside, she gave her lawyer her best smile and rolled up the letter. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“Please do. I sure hope you can get this worked out.”

God, she did, too.

"Recipe For Disaster" available for purchase at: Total-E-Bound

there is.


Recent posts you might also like to read:


Sayonara Baby

Don't Bomb Your Audience With Turkeys

Are You Writing Me Into Your Book?

Dont Give Up Too Early

Welcome to the Spookiest Month of the Year (+ don't burn your Ouija Board!)

Friday Fill-ins Oct. 2 (& e-Readers)

You'll also want to see what Amarinda Jones, Anika Hamilton, Anny Cook,
Barbara Huffert, Brynn Paulin, Bronwyn Green, Dakota Rebel, Kelly Kirch,
Molly Daniels, Sandra Cox, Regina Carlysle, and Cindy Spencer Pape
are up to, so make sure to visit them also. :)