Category Archives: Tuesday Tease

Tuesday Tease: Nerdgasm (Now Available!)

Woohoo!! Nerdgasm is finally available for purcahse on Amazon! (And as soon as I’ve reviewed the proof of the print and made sure it’s all good, that’ll be available, too!)

Nerdgasm FPhD student and part-time waitress Judy loves all things nerdy. Especially that Sherlock Doppelganger who keeps coming into the restaurant she works at. How do you keep it together when someone as sexy as him him calls you ‘darling?’ Still tormented by her abusive ex, Judy isn’t sure she’s built for romance. Is Max’s easy-going and forgiving nature enough to convince Judy to give love another chance

Video game coder and part-time recluse Max promised his family he was getting out and meeting people after his move from London. That pretty waitress is ‘people,’ right? Alone in Ashville after a bad breakup, Max isn’t sure the college town is the right place to be. Are Judy’s bad jokes and geeky passion enough to convince him his heart is in Illinois?

One steamy night together might not be enough.

Welcome to the Hearth and Forge, a farm-to-table restaurant on the edge of Ashville, Illinois. Brigid, Norse goddess of hearth and forge, runs the restaurant. Her husband, Bress, god of harvest and husbandry, runs the farm. They give aid to any who ask for it. Just be careful what you ask for—it may not be what you want. But it will be what you need. With two gods in residence, the Hearth and Forge is a beacon to gods, fairies, demons and other magical creatures as well as humans. It’s a place for good food, great company, and a bit of adventure.

Judy worked her way through the throngs of customers with a grin. Halloween. Costumes. Candy. No holiday compared. Not even Christmas.

She wished she were at home where she could have worn the full Batman costume for all the kids that would knock on the door; it wasn’t right without the cape. Plus, she wouldn’t have to watch Cora stick her butt out in her French maid get-up.

As if on cue, Cora leaned over a table to show off what little cleavage her push-up bra gave her, and stuck her butt out into the aisle right as a group of men in their early twenties neared.

Judy shook her head as she checked on her diners and surveyed the restaurant. Antony was having a grand old time flirting with all the women who came in wearing costumes; the retired Army Colonel enjoyed a good flirt as much as Gabe. Gabe was busy flirting with the table full of old ladies who came in to gossip under the guise of a book club meeting.

With a smile, she turned her attention back to her customers.

She got to the first table and was surprised to see Max. Why do I remember his name? She took a deep breath and put a smile on, hoping it was a friendly smile, and not flirty. Judy Lindholm doesn’t do flirty.

The smile spread to a grin when she saw the mismatched plaid he wore in every layer; yellow plaid dress coat with green-and-red plaid pants, a red-and-black plaid bowtie, and a black and white plaid shirt.

“I see you’ve gone plaid,” she told him with a laugh. “I’m glad you didn’t over-shoot us by a week.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, darling.” He winked up at her and smiled as he set his hat on the seat next to him. “You’re the first to get the joke. Nice job on the Batman costume.”

Judy’s heart hammered in her chest and her cheeks got hot. “Thank you.”

“But no cape?”

She shook her head. “It gets in the way. Looks like I’ll be your waitress again tonight.” She listed the specials, grateful to get it done with no slips of the tongue like the first time he’d come in. “Can I get you anything right away?”

“Seems like a good day for the mutton stew. What do you think?”

“Sounds perfect. What would you like to drink?”

“Just water for now, thank you.”

She stared down at the tablet and tapped in his order. “Sure thing. I’ll have that to you in a minute.”

Judy returned with his water a moment later and set it down. “Your stew should be up in a bit.”

She wanted his stew to take its time being ready, but unfortunately, it was always ready. She felt like she could talk to him for hours on end. That morning, she’d caught herself fantasizing about him. And it hadn’t been a daydream she’d ever share with her mother.

He nodded. As she turned to go back to another table, her knuckles rapped on the glass and knocked it over.

“Whoops.” Max slid to the far end of the bench before the water ran off the edge of the table and righted the glass.

“Oh, crap! I’m so sorry!” Judy tugged the rag free from her belt and got to work trying to stop the flow. Water seeped past her and dripped onto the seat anyway, and Max grabbed a napkin to help soak it up.

“Just a bit of water. No worry.”

Judy glanced around to see who was closest and caught Gabe’s attention. The Latino made his way over and glanced at the table.

“You know, the agua goes in your mouth, not all over the table, right?” he asked with a laugh as he pulled out his own rag. He helped wipe it up, then reached for the glass. “I’ll get a fresh glass for you.”

“Thanks, Gabe.” Judy turned her attention back to Max and chewed on her lip, her brows drawn together. “I’m really sorry.”

“Water dries.” Max smiled, though Judy figured he’d never be back after her fumble.

She sighed. “I’m still sorry.”

They stared at each other for a long moment until Judy felt her cheeks heating up again. Judy ducked her head and turned back to the other table, took their orders, then sought refuge in the break room for a few minutes to re-center herself.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Cam, the bartender said, letting the door shut behind him. “Why do you think you’re stupid?”

“The cute guy at table ten—the one who looks like you-know-who? I—”

“Did he insult you? I’ll—”

“No, he didn’t insult me.” Judy made a face. “I knocked his water all over the table.”

“Well, I guess it’s official, then.”

“What is?”

“He’s a Hearth and Forge regular.” Cam shrugged. “Look at the bright side—it wasn’t his food.”

“Yeah, but then we kind of just stared at each other and it was awkward, and I liked it and I hated it, and—”

“Wait, did you say he’s cute?”

Judy stared at the blond. “No?”

“No, no… you did.” The smile spread slowly across Cam’s face. “You think he’s sexy, don’t you? You have a crush on him.”

“No, I don’t.” But she denied it too quickly.

“Yes, you do. You think the guy dressed all weird is cute.”

“He’s not dressed weird, he’s gone plaid.”

Cam stared at her.

“Honestly, haven’t you ever seen Spaceballs?” She shook her head as she continued. “And you have a job to do. Drinks to—I have a job. We have jobs to do. We should do them.”

Cam laughed and gestured to the door. “You go right ahead. I need a smoke break. Go get ‘im, Batgirl!”

Judy rushed past him and back out into the kitchen to check on orders. “Crap,” she muttered when Cam was out of earshot. “I do have a crush.”


Tuesday Tease: The Prussian Dispatch

51wjGcKvEQL._SX326_BO1,204,203,200_David Nielson may not write romance, but he does weave the threads of mystery and crime seamlessly into his Sophie Rathenau series! Here’s a sample of the first in the historical crime series, The Prussian Dispatch.


With nothing in her purse, Sophie Rathenau can’t refuse work, even from a down-at-heel pimp. But tracing the woman who’s gone off with his document is a chancy business. A gang of Prussian maniacs are hunting for it too, as well as thugs from the shadowy Versailles Club, and a Polish countess desperate to preserve her country. Caught up in an international conspiracy, Sophie’s only weapons are her sardonic tongue and an old cavalry pistol. But it’ll take more than those to find the dispatch, keep a vengeful Chancellor at bay, and deal with a past that threatens to engulf her. “The Prussian Dispatch” is the first in a series of novels from the era of Mozart and Maria Theresia.

Sophie Rathenau remembers the evening before her wedding in 1760s Dresden, just after the Seven Years’ War.
Late sunlight glistens on the dome of Our Lady’s. Sapphire with azure spots, my dirndl is thin, but my blouse is puffed at the shoulders, blue stitching at the neck and sleeves.
We don’t have much of anything. Half the world is ruined. But the war is over.
I lounge in the glow, a silk wrap tight at my elbows. The stone bench has soaked up warmth all day. It tingles through the grit under my soles. I want to sit here forever. I want to watch the river flow, count the arches of the Augustus Bridge.
“Good of them to call it after you,” I murmur.
His head shifts near mine. I lean against his shoulder, my eyes half closed, fixed on two joined dragonflies.
“Madame,” he says, “your nose is in my ear.” There’s a scroll of gold embroidery at his burgundy collar, a modest ruff at his neck. After the uniform, he doesn’t care for a patterned jacket.
“By dose is itchy.” I rub it from side to side. That ear’s a bit deaf since he came back. I settle my chin beside it, my cheek on his hay-coloured stubble.
His fingers slip into my hair, easing strand from strand. “I had a retriever who laid her head on my shoulder like that.” His voice is as warm as the stone, but I don’t hear the Salzburg hinterland the way I used to. He’s been gone a while.
I growl. “And you’re supposed to be a diplomat.” His ear is neat, tucked-in. I run the tip of my tongue around its rim.
“Daun’s the diplomat. All I do is keep quiet and look fierce.”
I press my ribs against his, thinking I smell pine needles. I always do with him. “Stick to what you’re good at.” I know that Daun values his opinion on the clauses.
His lower lip juts out. Its fullness would seem petulant on another man, his chin fleshy. I think they round out a square and solid face. “You have a bodyguard, too, Fräulein Süssmayr. She’ll be wild.”
I grin. It was easy to lose Aurelia at the Holy Cross. By the time she missed me in the ruins, the shard of its tower stood between us. I walked in the Zwinger and to the Residence, till he came out with Daun and the others.
“I’ll make it up to her.”
My hands, one atop the other, don’t look large on my apron. My naked fingers, shades of sand in the evening sun, tug the knot at the centre of my waist. After tomorrow, I’ll tie it on the right.
The hairs at the tips of his eyebrows are light and fine, hatching into the crinkles around his eyes. “You don’t still want Saint Sophia?”
I smile. “That would be nice. But there’s only one Catholic church in Dresden. If we’re getting married, it has to be in there. And Saint Sophia doesn’t look like that.”
The Court Church is a cutter in full sail, docked on the river. Its tower soars like a mast. He takes hold of my shoulders and eases me around. “Nor that.”
The slim grey bell of Our Lady’s, ringed by four cupolas, rises over the gallery behind us. He shakes his head as he stares up. Behind his hazel eyes there’s a web of scaffolding, hoists, and blocks fitting high above. He loves knowing how things work. I feel, sometimes, he sees me the same way.
I rest my chin on my fists. “Do you ever think that one day people could stand here, gaze up, and not see that? That something so big, so graceful, could disappear?”
It’s a miracle the church is still standing. A lot of the city is rubble. The Prussians weren’t good for it.
He stretches his legs. Gravel scatters, and the sun gleams on the buttons at his knee.
“We’ll be long gone, if that happens.” His hands inch around my waist.
I caress his shoulder. “Careful with that arm.”
“You’ll be Sophie Rathenau.” He squeezes my ribs gently. “Tomorrow.”
The sun slips over the Bastion Sol. I link my wrists at his neck, drawing him to me, saying his name. A last glint laps under the bridge.
Ex-lecturer and educational marketer David Neilson lives on the Rhine growing runner beans, courgettes, and kohlrabi, and writing Sophie Rathenau stories: a historical crime series based in eighteenth-century Vienna.
A personal tour of Sophie’s world, with images of many of the locations, historical characters, and objects in the novels, is available on Pinterest:

Tuesday Tease: RedDress Two Wives


Welcome back to Tuesday Tease! This week, I feature Native American contemporary romance author RA Winter’s book RedDress Two Wives.


Sarah’s beau left her. She didn’t excite him.
To reinvent herself, she travels to New York, where she meets John. A sexy voice on the phone.
What could go wrong?
Get caught with a vibrating purple…? Check.
Entertaining a threesome with a blow-up doll? Yep.
Geez, and let’s not forget the manure. Esh.

John enjoyed the color splashes, and the dining room table looked fit for a royal dinner. He could see himself here… nope. Don’t go there Johnny boy, she’ll leave soon. For now, it’s all fun for me.

John walked towards the bedroom, his mind on Sarah. She was always a good distraction from work.

Naay. Giddy up there li’l doggie. Ha!

Shut up! Damn.

He rounded the corner and stopped. Sarah sat on the stairs with a whip in hand, vibrator dancing and a…

Blow up doll?

“Ahh, zmy human toy hast arrived,” she said in a funky accent, her voice low and sensual. “Ursula und I zare here to conquer zhe human race and demand ze blood. Zerr blood.” She flicked her whip and jumped up, then marched around him. Her fingers raked down his arm, she grabbed her dangly and turned it on, grinning as it came to life. She unbuttoned her corset and flung it aside. “I’ve been told zzthat a human male can only last zso long before losing control.” Sarah ran her whip over John’s body. She stopped at his maleness and rub it against her. “Ursula is my second in command. She will join us to see who vill zlast zlonger.”

John snickered. He had no idea where this was going, but it sure was different, he’d give her that. Maybe she didn’t mind his stupidity.

She undid his pants, yanking them down toward his knees. Her lips followed her actions as she kissed his skin. His blood pressure skyrocketed and flew through John, pulsating his penis to life. She licked his thigh, stroking his penis as her eyes stared up at him. The dildo buzzed, filling the air with electricity.

“Argh!” A shrill scream ripped through the house, obliterating all fun and amusement.

“Mom, what are they doing?” A sweet girl’s voice asked, her innocence shattered. John turned, horrified to find a family glaring at him. Sarah paused with her mouth open, so close to the throbbing manhood, and gaped at the family. Her lips widened as her eyes darted between the family and John’s erection. Stunned, she balanced on her heels, frozen with horror.

The vibrator buzzed.

A young boy stood with hands on his hips, wearing a sailor t-shirt. His eyes grew as he stared at Sarah and bit his lips. A young girl, a little older stood beside him, her eyes roamed over John. Her brow furrowed. The dad grinned, then caught himself as his wife inhaled. The lady turned red, then purple as veins exploded on her skin.

The little boy inhaled and whispered to his mother, “Will mine turn purple when I’m older, Mommie?”

“Can I play with your dolly when you’re done?” The girl pointed to Ursula.

Sarah’s eyes moved back and forth. Penis, family, penis, family.

“Ahh, but Sissy,” The boy said, “It’s got a big hole in its mouth.”

“It’s a purple people eater,” the girl whispered. Her mother inhaled. “It’s got a one eye and one horn, like the song.” The mom grabbed both children then placed her hands over their eyes. She kicked her husband as he continued to stare at the naked pair.

Sarah inhaled.

The vibrator buzzed.

John grabbed his pants and hurried to pull them on. Prodded into action, Sarah clasped Ursula in front of her nakedness. Crouched low, she waddled towards the stairs, Ersula’s legs in front of her. John slid on the leg and fell headfirst into Sarah’s dildo. Sarah clung to Ursula, and down she went, the heel in an unconventional sandwich.

The husband’s eyes went dreamy. The boy jumped away from his mother and laughed.

“I want to see too,” his sister said. The mother clasped her tighter and dragged her toward her brother. She reached but he evaded her grasp, eyes wide with wonder.

“Wait, let me explain,” John yelled as he squashed Ursula. Her head ballooned under the pressure, her eyes expanded as her mouth widened into an O. John crawled off the ‘girls’, dragging Ursula with him.

The husband stared.


The mother yelled, grabbed her children and pushed them towards the door. “I’m suing! My children will need therapy for life!”

The boy turned around, “Why does she have a purple pee-pee, isn’t she a girl?”

His mother screamed at him and ushered them towards the door.

The girl yelled, “But, Mommy, I want a dolly too!”

“Paul,” she snapped. She turned and glared at her husband. “Paul!”

“Oh, yes dear,” he said. He took one last, lingering look at Sarah’s body and her buzzing vibrator.

Sarah crouched lower and moaned. She reached for the dildo and fumbled with the switch. The motion increased and so did the sound. Sarah’s eyes widened as she stared at the family.


“Just getting the details for the lawsuit. Don’t want to leave anything out, now do we?”

“Stop, don’t leave until I explain!” John pleaded to the retreating family.


“Wait till everybody at school hears about this. A real live purple people eater!”


RA Winter, began her writing career under her married name, writing genealogy books. However, her love for reading romance novels intruded in on her daily activities. She started writing “Little Sparrow” and fell in love with her characters and is writing many more books in the Romantic Western series, “Kiowa in Love”. Each one of Grandfather’s grandchildren will have their story told, as will Grandfather himself. RA spent many years traveling the world and has lived in many different countries. Turkey, Egypt, Germany, and Jordan, have all been called “home” at one time or another. Now you can find her quietly living in Pittsburgh, Pa