Tuesday Tease: Hunting the Hunter

This week brings a tease from Misty Carlisle’s debut short story, Hunting the Hunter which I had the privilege of beta reading. If you want awkward nerdy types in a sweet romance, this is the story for you!

41iFCMGAGzLDiana is a traveling presenter spending no more than a week in any town. She presents science to high school kids to get them interested in STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering and Math) careers. She’s all but given up hope on anything longer than a one-night stand. Hunter is a Chemistry professor at Anteros University, where he is returning from a one year leave to recover from a lab accident. He’s not even looking to add love to his life. They’re perfect for each other, and only have one week to figure it out.

 

“The bar’s empty tonight.” Val pulled the mug back across the bar. “I’ll bring your mug, so go on over and say ‘hi’.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Go on.” Then Val and the mug of chocolaty ambrosia were gone. The hints of peppermint hung in the air, pulling him to follow.
Val was right. He had to come out of his shell at some point. A quiet night at the Bowman’s was as good a time as any. What’s the worst that could happen? I could be rejected by a woman I’ll never meet again. Or it’ll go great, and I’ll still never meet her again. Nothing to lose. Hunter sighed and pushed those thoughts aside. “Hot damn,” he muttered as he slid off the stool. There were nine stools around the curved bar, and he sat in the second from the end on the left. Directly across from him would be the last stool on the right, so five between here and there. His cane would be too cumbersome, so he let his hand drag along the padded leather surface of each stool as he passed.
Three… Four… Five.* “Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?” He might have been talking to empty air.
“Please.” Her rich, inviting alto wrapped him in warmth. “You must be a local.”
“How’d you guess?” He adjusted his orientation.
“You didn’t come in through the hotel lobby.” Her laugh rang lightly. “And you know your way around.”
His cheeks flared with heat.
“I’m sorry.” She added quickly, “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“It’s alright,” he lied. “I’m still getting used to it.” Actually, he hated the way most people were so direct about his disability, always trying to do things for him because they couldn’t imagine how he could ever manage without sight. “You must be new to town.” He decided to play her game. “You chose this side of the bar and called me a local.”
She chuckled. “I deserve that.”
They sat there for a moment without saying anything. The scent of her mulled cider mingled with his peppermint hot chocolate when Val thunked his mug in front of him again. He found it by the heat; it’d cooled enough to taste it for real.
“I’m impressed by your observational skills,” she said after a time. “I mean that, really.”
What an odd thing to say. “Um… thank you?”
“No really, I mean it. I’m not sure how you navigated this room, but you did. I saw your cane when you came in, but you didn’t use it on the way over here. You must really know this place. Did you count the chairs? Did Val tell you how many? No, he wouldn’t do that. You figured it out for yourself, and I’m babbling, sorry. But I really am impressed that you found me, and your mug all while blindfolded. I’m shutting up now.”
Hunter’s internal chuckles leaked out when he said, “I am blind.”
“You weren’t always. I’d guess fairly recently – maybe two years?”
It was his turn to be impressed. “Just one.” Her breath caught. He imagined her blushing and staring into her mug. He hated this part, when his accident was the only thing they could think of and yet they didn’t know what else to say. It was so awkward.
“Are you a scientist?”
“What?”
“It’s just…” She scraped her mug around on the counter. “I don’t know… I mean, you just have precision of habit that… The way you arranged the condiments on the other end of the bar, I’d be willing to bet you used atomic numbers to decide whether the salt or pepper should be to the left. It’s the way you counted your steps – your stride is very consistent…” She pushed her mug around in three circles. She might have sighed.
“You… you just seem like a scientist to me.”
“I teach Intro to Chemistry and General Chemistry at Anteros U.” He put his hand over hers. She was cool despite the hot drink she’d just let go of. “How about you? What do you do with your skills?”
“My skills?”
“You’re pretty observant, too.” He shifted his whole body to face her. Now, if he could just get that cheesy grin off his lips. “The way you described me coming in and navigating the bar— very precise and not a lot of supposition. I’d kill to have students who were half as aware as you are.”

***

Misty Carlisle turned to writing when she couldn’t find the kind of worlds she wanted to live in. She loves the freedom to twist plots and tropes and play with an audience’s expectations. Every story starts with a trope and turns it upside down. Tell her she can’t do something, and she takes it as a challenge. The world of Romance is in for a surprise.

Blog – https://mistycarlisle.mreauowpublishing.com
Twitter – https://twitter.com/AuthorMisty
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/authormistycarlisle/

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Sunday Sit-Down: Renee Grace Thompson

Author of all things romance, Renee Grace Thompson, um… graced me with her presence!

MG: Let’s start with an easy one! How do you relax?
RGT: Haha! Well, I suppose it’s obvious that I would read a book. That’s probably true for any writer. And I like to soak in a bubble bath in the dark with nothing but candle light. Other than that, I love hanging out and goofing off with my kids. They always make me happy.

MG: Where is your favorite place to write?
RGT: It probably sounds silly, but I like to sit on my bed and write. It’s the only place I can shut myself off from the rest of the world, and my family. I can close the door and feel comfy and cozy in my room. I have two big windows on adjoining walls that I can stare out into the woods when I’m struggling to find just the right word. I can’t really explain it, but my bedroom is my haven. It’s where I’m the most comfortable and the most creative.

MG: Have you ever written works in collaboration with other writers, and if so, why did you decide to collaborate and did it affect your sales?
RGT:

MG: Do you think that giving books away free works and why?
RGT: 
Sure. The reader would have nothing to lose, so they’d be more enticed to try it. If they don’t like it, they can always toss it aside. At least that’s how I feel about it. And then the reader who likes that writer’s style will be apt to seek out more work from that writer. To me, it’s a great tactic.

MG: What do your fans mean to you?
RGT: 
Having readers follow you because they enjoy your work is an incredible feeling. To me, that’s more exciting than any paycheck from the work. It means you’ve touched someone and made them laugh or cry, or maybe both. You’ve made a connection with them. And that’s pretty awesome.

***

Renee lives in the Midwest with her husband and four kids. She worked as a Nuclear Medicine Technologist for many years, but now manages her family-owned business. Her spare time is spent hovering over her laptop, trying to transcribe the romance novels playing out in her head. There are several going on at once though, so keeping up with them is hard. She hopes to have her first novel published sometime this winter.

***

Renee can be found:

On her Website
Twitter
And Facebook!

Tuesday Tease: Voyeur in the Mist

This week’s teaser is from Sherry Terry’s Voyeur in the Mist, an erotic short story.

510y3LBHQJLSusan isn’t a woman who dreams of flowers and romance. She dreams of being watched through her bedroom window. Spending most of her life hiding her fantasy becomes normal until a chance encounter with and exciting man named Justin. He might make her dreams come true, if only she can get him to agree. Will they risk everything for an exciting sex life or play it safe?

She edged up his thigh, brushing her finger over his bulge. He gasped, and gripped her wrist, growing hard under her hand. The instant reaction made her heart race, and she rubbed a thumb over the tip of his erection.

He squirmed and glanced around. “Here?”

Lust washed into the pit of her stomach, pooling between her legs. Many times while at the aquarium in the past she’d thought about having sex in the tube. This might be her only chance, and doing it with Justin would be fun. She answered his question by going to her knees in front of him.

Looking up at his shocked face, she raised an eyebrow. “Sure. I happen to know that we are out of sight of any security cameras. It’s exciting, and taboo.”

“And how do you know that? You’ve done this here with other guys?”

The look of hurt in his eyes made her fall in love with him. “No! I’ve never done anything like this with anyone. A friend works in the IT department here, I’ve had lunch with her several times and she showed me around.”

He relaxed. “So. I’m your first. Good to know.”

Looking up at him, she smiled, flirting with her eyes. “You’re my first at everything we’ve done so far. I’ve waited a long time for someone like you.”

His strong hand cupped the side of her face, the warmth of his fingers spreading through her. “You’re so beautiful, and wild.”

She struggled a moment with his zipper before getting the fly undone. He fished his erection out of the opening, his flushed face and hungry, dilated eyes spurring her on. She wrapped her hand around him.

He groaned and adjusted on the bench.

***

Sherry Terry lives on Red Bull and sarcasm in a small town in Texas with her hermaphroditic cat named, Hermy. As a single mother, she put herself through college and worked as a Radiologic Technologist for almost twenty years before she gave it all up to be a bum. In her Champagne wishes and caviar dreams, she spends all of her time writing the next greatest romance novel to hit the market. Her blog is dedicated to helping aspiring writers with how-to articles and awesome research links.

***

Blog: https://verysherryterry.wordpress.com/category/blog/blog-blog/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100007182588429
Twitter: https://twitter.com/verysherryterry
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/verysherryterry/

Tuesday Tease: Shear Luck

Shear LuckToday, I bring a tease from the entertainingly witty Sue Seabury’s newest book, Shear Luckwhich promises to be a fun read.

It’s sheer luck when the Queen of Coiffure books the wrong flight and meets Mr. Mane Attraction.

 

The mussed section of the gentleman’s careful comb-over is positively heartbreaking. Only a churl could refuse assistance. I use a subtle hand signal to indicate the problem. He gets it. Hair is smoothed; crisis averted. His cane is jutting out in the aisle and hits my sandal. The cane slides to the floor.  “Allow me.” I retrieve it, then place his rolling suitcase in the overhead bin for good measure.    “Thank you, erm, miss.” His squint seems mistrustful, although I use the utmost care. I hope I didn’t insult his manhood. He must be as old as my Grandpa Kimball. It’s only right for the able-bodied to lend a hand. “You’re welcome.”  On the way to my seat, I stow luggage for an over-processed permanent wave, a shaggy mullet, and a bowl cut. Is this flight going to Florida or 1982?   The thanks I receive may be lukewarm, but the universe repays me by placing the most gorgeous hair I have ever seen outside Fresno’s Sixth Annual Wig Convention in my row. A luscious black curtain that falls to his waist. Now that’s what I call serendipity.

***

Sue invented the internet, the selfie stick and sliced bread. When she’s not working on the solution for cold fusion and wireless power transfer, she makes up stories.

***

Blog: https://thetechnopeasant.wordpress.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SueSeaburyAuthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/SueSeabury

Tuesday Tease: Dragon Splendor (Immortal Dragons Book Three)

Okay, so I’ve read one of Ophelia’s dragon series. And wow, was it hot! The tease this week is from Dragon Splendor (Immortal Dragons Book Three), and promises everything I love about everything of hers I’ve already read!

Dragon Splendor

Nobody said finding your fated mates would mean an instant happily ever after. But for Aurum, an immortal gold dragon gifted with the power of psychic empathy, love has never been simple.

Night after night, she has endured prophetic dreams about her pair of lovers, but finding them brings her no respite—the beautiful satyr, Calder, abandons her upon their first meeting, forsaking love for revenge, while royal ursa Nicholas…

Well, he looks nothing like the dark-haired man Fate promised her. So why does she find him so irresistible?

 

As war between ancient allies darkens the horizon, Aurum realizes the long-lost prince may hold the key to solving both her and Calder’s problems, bringing together the fated mates for good—as long as he doesn’t get them all killed first.

 

Their Fated connection doesn’t make things easy. But for Aurum, Calder, and Nicholas, victory might just go hand in hand with surrender where matters of the heart are concerned.

 

Aurum waited as still as possible, debating whether to leave and fly solo, or make herself known and go sit beside her sister. She itched for some kind of physical activity to alleviate the ever-growing craving for sexual energy, and a good, long fly would do wonders.

Nicholas’s masculine musk reached her, and her mouth watered at the scent. He smelled fertile, his aroma promising an abundance of energy if she had any inclination to take him to bed.

She didn’t, of course. The heat pulsing between her thighs was just evidence of her waning power, which she was sure would last long enough for her to reach the male who still regularly haunted her dreams even after finally seeing him in the flesh.

Males, she reminded herself. There was a second male in her dreams besides Calder, but she had begun to doubt Fate’s message, because that second dark-haired man had yet to appear. Still, that he continued to be a regular presence in those nighttime visions gave her some hope. She’d first believed that he was an ursa male, though she was more inclined to think he might be another satyr with the way he kept appearing at the river’s edge in her dreams, and was more convinced than ever that getting into the Haven was how she would find him. Maybe Calder had a brother or friend who was fated to be her second mate? And if he was indeed an ursa, then passing through the Sanctuary would give her more opportunities to meet him.

Closing her eyes, she could remember the scent of that second male, as wet and fertile as Nicholas, but the difference was that the stranger from her dream was hers as much as Calder was, and he was most certainly dark-haired and green-eyed with golden, sun-drenched skin and an aura that drew her own energy to it like a seedling reaching for the sun.

The thoughts made her cravings even stronger and she shifted on her seat, squeezing her thighs together to ease a bit of the pressure in her core.

Through the branches, she saw Nicholas rake his fingers through his hair and turn his head slightly, lifting his chin and inhaling as though savoring his freedom.

In a low, deep voice, he said, “I know you’re there, Goldilocks. And I’m guessing it isn’t watching your brothers that has you so worked up. Do you know you smell like sunshine when you’re excited? It’s the oddest thing, because I only pick that up from you. Your sister’s not shy, but she’s also nowhere near as worked up whenever I’m around her. Not at all, in fact.”

Aurum tensed, irritated by the fact that he’d sensed her presence. She shouldn’t have been surprised—he was an ursa prince, after all, being the firstborn son of Maia Stonetree. She’d just rather not have to have a conversation with him again after their failed first interaction.

“It isn’t you, I assure you,” she said. “My sister and I simply have different thresholds …”

His booming laugh stopped her and her eyes widened as he turned. His pale silver gaze bored into her as he stalked over, ignoring the scratch of branches against his bare chest. He was uncomfortably close when he bent over, his nose millimeters from hers. She leaned back, scooting as far as she could, her heart pounding. He inhaled again and grinned.

“Sunshine, Goldilocks. I bet if I spread your thighs, light would pour out from between them the same way water gushes from Gaia’s Source. Yet you seem intent on locking it up for a man who abandoned you.”

“Us …” Aurum whispered, barely able to get the word out past the tightness in her throat. Nicholas inundated her senses, heat pouring off him in waves along with that unbearably delicious aroma. He leaned closer to her, hands braced on either side of her thighs.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you over the sound of that rushing river between your legs.”

“He abandoned us, Nicholas. You said so yourself.”

His jaw clenched and his irreverent, playful look vanished. “No … for him to have abandoned me, I’d have had to belong to him. But I don’t. You’re the one who does. Unlike you, I am free, for the first time in my life. Free to choose …”

He trailed off, and the flecks of green in his eyes seemed to burn with inner light, like his irises were a pair of opals filled with verdant fire. He swallowed thickly and swept his gaze over her again before shaking his head as if to clear it. He stepped back so abruptly, Aurum blinked in surprise. His eyes widened for a second, then he turned and crashed away through the brush, not even caring that there was an easy path not two steps away.

Aurum sat staring after him, her mouth agape and her pulse racing in her throat. She stood on wobbly legs, her vision swimming for a moment before she made her way out onto the sparring platform where her brothers and sister had stopped what they were doing to stare off in the direction of the ruckus of the huge ursa’s retreat.

“What the fuck is up with him?” Gavra asked. “Thought he still had a few rounds left in him. He has more energy than Kris on a good day.”

“I don’t know and don’t care,” Aurum said. “I need to fly. Are you three with me?” She spread her arms out and called on her powers to shift. Without waiting for the others, she launched herself into the air, aiming directly for the giant, glowing orb in the sky.

Sunshine, Goldilocks.

She closed her eyes and let the winds buoy her as she soared into the light. Nicholas’s voice reverberated in her ear, sending a shiver through her entire body, though her core heated even more. She inhaled the cold wind, seeking to flush the scent of him out of her head and the lust out of her body.

He wasn’t the one. So why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?

***
Ophelia Bell loves a good bad-boy and especially strong women in her stories. Women who aren’t apologetic about enjoying sex and bad boys who don’t mind being with a woman who’s in charge, at least on the surface, because pretty much anything goes in the bedroom.

Ophelia grew up on a rural farm in North Carolina and now lives in Los Angeles with her own tattooed bad-boy husband and four attention-whoring cats.

If you’d like to receive regular updates on Ophelia’s publications, freebies, and discounts, please subscribe to her mailing list: http://opheliabell.com/subscribe/

***

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Sunday Sit-Down: R.A. Winter

This week, I sat down with well-traveled romance author R.A. Winter.  Let’s get down to it, shall we?

MG: Which famous person, living or dead would you like to meet and why?
RAW: Hmm. There are so many historical people that I would love to meet. From a caveman, a Neanderthal, Cleopatra, Methuselah, a ruler of Anchor Watt, a ruler of Teotihuacan, DaVinci, George Washington, Christopher Forts (my gggrandfather), Tecumsah, Sitting Bull, a slave, an alien (If they exist), all the way to Clint Eastwood and Johnny Depp. Everyone, no matter whether they were famous or not has a story to tell.
Yeah, I have lots of interest. But, I’d like to know about each of their lives, their thoughts and actions. I’ve always hoped and dreamed that when I die that I’d be able to ‘see’ history from the beginning. I mean, you have eternity, right? What could be better than reliving history? Chose and average Joe, follow him through life. See his choices or lack there of and their consequences.
Ok, sounds odd, I know. But, people interest me and there are so many fascinating things about history that we don’t know about.

MG: Do you ever get Writer’s Block, and do you have any tips for getting through it?
RAW: Walk away for a while and read other works. I’ve also finished a round on Bootcamp and joined the Ubergroup on Scribophile. These groups force you to write and putting down words on paper, no matter how bad it is, it can give you an idea on how to continue.
Sometimes I’ll work on the cover. Once you have a cover to your work, it adds an element of excitement. It pushes you to finish.

MG: Do you write on a typewriter, computer, dictate or longhand?
RAW: Computer and longhand. I keep a pad by my bed and write in the dark as ideas come to me. Some of my best one-liners have come at 4 am!

MG: Would you or do you use a PR agency?
RAW: I’ve never used one. Honestly, the thought never crossed my mind.

MG: Do you have any advice for other authors on how to market their books?
RAW: Contact reviewers and bloggers in your genre. Look up books similar to your own and ask them for reviews in exchange for a free copy. I also love onlinebookclub.org but they no longer offer free reviews but they do have a large following. Another resource is bookvetter.com. There you have to read five or six books to ‘unlock’ your reviews which are then posted on Goodreads. Another great place is ReadersGazette.com. They tweet your books for you! Wonderful site. Also, if you are doing a promo try AskDavid.com. Wonderful site and they had a large following too.

MG: That’s all the time we have for today! Thanks for sitting down with me today, R.A.!

***

RA 1RA 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, ” A Kiowa in Love”. Each one of Grandfather’s grandchildren will have their story told, as will Grandfather himself.RA 2

RA spent many years travelling the world and has lived in many different countries. Turkey, Egypt, Germany, and Jordan, have all been called “home” at one time or another. She’s even been employed as a Federal Agent. Now you can find her quietly living in Pittsburgh, Pa, with her husband, writing her next novel.

https://wordpress.com/post/rawinterwriter.wordpress.com/289
amazon.com/author/bywinter

Tuesday Tease: Waiting for Tuesday

It’s that time again, ya’ll! This week, I’ve got an excerpt from Waiting for Tuesday, by Taylor Sullivan. I first met Taylor on a site for writers, and she’s never failed to entrance me! Here’s another great one!

18678845_854123644742340_106408813_nThe night I met John Eaton I felt that stability crumble. His smile, a mixture of little boy and pure devil. I knew his type, knew the sort of games that came with men like him, so I pushed. But he pulled harder. I tried to fight it, to shove away the connection that clawed at my heart, but it was too late. Roots dug in, grew deep, and twisted. I was his. But a secret is a dangerous thing. Held too long, it can rip a life apart.

When we got to the double doors, I held them open, stepping aside to let her enter the kitchen first. The room was empty, clean for the night except for the tools I’d left on the ground earlier. She slipped past me, her wild hair brushing my arm as she clutched the bag that was almost as big as she was.
“Right this way,” I said, leading her to a doorway on the left.
She paused when she saw the staircase and glanced over her shoulder. For a second I thought she might change her mind, come to her senses, and realize she was a tiny girl, and I was the man who’d had librarian fantasies about her all night. But she didn’t. She lifted her chin, adjusted her bag, and started climbing.
I frowned. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t like this one bit. All of a sudden, I wanted to lecture her about strangers. She looked like a strong woman, but I had no doubt I could snap her like a twig. My brows furrowed, and I remembered the guys who’d cornered her in the hall earlier. I followed behind her, my eyes locked on the slight sway of her hips noticeable even from under her baggy overalls, and I shook my head. When we made it to the top of the loft, my jaw ached from clenching so hard. Of course I have jumper cables.
What self-respecting man doesn’t have jumper cables?
I walked past her, set my drawer on the desk, and gestured to the phone. “Do you always follow strange men you just met?” I couldn’t quite explain my anger. This was exactly what I wanted, but now I was pissed she wasn’t making wiser choices. Why I felt so protective over a woman I just met was beyond me, but there was something primal about how I felt about her. Maybe my response stemmed from finding her cornered by those assholes, or the fact I grew up with three sisters, or maybe it was because she reminded me of Bambi—a deer caught in headlights, who couldn’t get out of her own way.
I turned around and met her heated stare. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t as much of a Bambi after all. Her stance was wide, her cheeks red, and her eyes were as bright as a brush fire.
“Do you always try to bed two women in one night?”
What the hell?
My brows drew together and I grinned. “Bed two women?” It shouldn’t have been so amusing, but this wasn’t the reaction I’d expected. “What are you talking about?”
She hoisted her bag high on her shoulder and half laughed, half scoffed. “It doesn’t matter.” She picked up the phone and began dialing.
I cringed and gripped the back of my neck. I wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this was, but at the same time, I knew without a doubt that would be the wrong thing to do. I opened the lock box and tried to focus on my job, but her words bothered me and I couldn’t keep quiet. “Is that what you thought? That I was bringing you up here to sleep with you?”
She shrugged then turned to face me. She was beautiful. Maybe even a little hotter when angry.
“Does that mean you wan―” But my question was interrupted by her doubling over with laughter.
Fair enough.

***

Taylor is a contemporary romance author who loves writing stories about real people. Ones with hopes, dreams, fears, insecurities, and flaws. She loves to read as much as she loves to write, and is trilled to share her stories with you. When Taylor isn’t writing, she can often be found with her nose in a book, her face behind a camera, or spending time with her husband and three young children.

Connect with Taylor

TaylorSullivanAuthor.com
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Taylor-Sullivan-Author
Twitter: https://twitter.com/@AuthorTSullivan

Tuesday Tease: The Boy Friend

This week, I feature and excerpt from the Boy Friend by the incredible Mika Jolie, author of the Martha’s Way series.

TBF Amazon.jpgI’ve found someone I can trust. Coriander is my human diary, and there’s some attraction there, too. But what now?
It is important to proceed with care and take a moment to consider the pros and cons of taking our relationship to the next level.
CONS:
 Are you willing to make the sacrifice? It’s always the number one concern when anyone considers dating a friend
 what if it doesn’t last? If we break up, we might have to accept that our friendship might be lost forever.
PROS:
 But then again, I’ve known her all of my life. We have a history, been through a lot together.
 Our connection is strong. Nothing can go wrong, right?

I want her.

She wants me.

Just not enough. Actually, she’s smart. We’re a bad idea. I’m well aware of that, except I like bad ideas. Exhaling, I scrub a hand over my face. This unrequited desire needs to be tucked away. I should have put an end to these crazy thoughts from the beginning, but I entertained them . . . like a playful pet. Now, my desire has grown into a ferocious animal.

Acceptance is key here. I need to accept that I’m the boy friend, without the perks, and move on. No need for unnecessary tension. Our circle is tight. Attraction, lust, are part of the human flesh. These wild horses of my mind must be tracked down, captured, and tucked away in the Do-Not- Touch Cori file.

***

Mika Jolie lives in New Jersey with her Happy Chaos—her husband and their energizer bunnies. A sports fanatic and a wine aficionado, she’s determined to balance it all and still write about life experiences and matters of the heart. Let’s face it, people are complicated and love can be messy. When she’s not weaving life and romance into evocative tales, you can find her on a hiking adventure, apple picking, or whatever her three men can conjure up.

***

Website: http://www.mikajolie.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mikajolie.author/?ref=hl
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MikaJolie1
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8294433.Mika_Jolie
Amazon: http://amazon.com/author/mikajolie

 

Tuesday Tease: Hot Pink Heels

This week, I bring to you an excerpt from Hot Pink Heels, first in the humorous “Hot Pink” erotica series by newcomer D. de Carvalho.

Hot Pink HeelsMild-mannered shoe-salesman Johnny has a talent for inserting large things into small spaces. When a Vision in urgent need of Johnny’s special services enters the shoe shop, the battle between shy store clerk and Ug, the caveman in his pants, begins.

Will Johnny manage to slip Vision’s feet into the perfect pair of Hot Pink Heels before Ug slips himself somewhere else? What is a gentleman to do?

 

The door chime tinkled, and I glanced up from the knee-high leather riding boot in front of me. The damn thing refused every effort to zip it closed around the plump leg wedged into it. My right index finger pushed my glasses up through the droplets of sweat beading my nose, but froze in place at the vision before me. Dear god in heaven but she was a glorious vision, or so said my cock as it snapped to attention with an audible click of its heels and a bellowed, Ma’am! Yes, ma’am!

My brain hadn’t fully caught up with my member, but a subcutaneous duh-uh issued from somewhere behind my left ear just before my glasses-holding finger dropped to my side. The glasses, of course, immediately slipped down the sweat-slide and dropped off the end of my nose. I succeeded in stabbing myself in the eye in my haste to not look like a dweeb.

A throat cleared, and I glanced across to the serving counter where Roxanne Swells, manager and owner of Roxanne’s Sole Mates, was giving me the evil eye.

“Someone will be with you in a moment,” she assured the Vision while her fingers flicked me back towards the half-zipped boot and the bovine socialite protruding from it, clearly indicating I was to carry on with my work.

I tried—honest, I did—crouched over the tubular limb, sliding my fingers inside the zipper, kneading and massaging the chubby calf into the boot, then easing the zip up another half-inch or so. But all the time I fought with that tree trunk leg, I was acutely aware of the Vision behind me.

She moved gracefully around the displays, examining shoes, lifting first a loafer then a pump, turning it over and around, sliding a hand slowly inside and withdrawing just as slowly. I caught glimpses of her in my peripheral vision. Damn, but she seemed to be hovering there a lot. And when she wasn’t, I could hear her soft footsteps and the breathy little song she was humming… to herself… just for me…

“Ow!”

I stared at the thick leg in front of me and yanked hard on the zipper.

“Ouch! Young man, do you mind?” A meaty hand swiped my arm away, and as I jerked my head up in reaction, I tumbled backwards off my low stool.

The constant distraction of the Vision had kept my cock at full salute during the five minutes she’d been in the store, and I heard Mrs. Chubby-Calves’ greedy gasp as I landed on my back with my legs in the air. Boxers and dress pants, the cool professional option, weren’t much good at hiding a hard-on the size of mine.

I lay still a moment, part of me cringing at being raped by covetous granny-eyes, part of me wondering, if I held still just a moment longer, the Vision would come and offer to resuscitate me. My cock stood a little taller at the thought.

“A word, Johnny.” Roxanne’s gravelly rasp cut through my haze and virtually levitated me to my feet. My boss was not the type of lady I wanted to piss off. Her long fingers crooked in my direction, drawing me towards her like the puppet I was. “What are you doing?” she whispered as I leaned obediently over the counter.

“Trying to fit size twelve calves into size nine boots. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is.”

She snorted. “I think everyone present is fully aware of how hard it is, Johnny. But showing off in the middle of tending a customer is not how we do things here.”

“I wasn’t showing off. I was, uh, distracted… I… Uhhh…” My eyes had already strayed from Roxanne’s thin face to the Vision. She was watching us, a pair of pink kitten heels in one hand, plump lips parted and tilted up ever so slightly at the corners. Her ample breasts filled the light peasant blouse admirably, her deep cleavage centred perfectly in the lace-up V at the low neck. A flouncy peasant skirt flowed over the smooth curves of hip and rump, and I imagined running my hands and head up under those flounces, opening my mouth, sticking out my—

“Johnny!”

My head snapped around. “Tongue!”

Roxanne looked at me.

“Uh…” I grabbed a discarded running shoe from the floor. “Tongue.” I waggled the offending shoe anatomy. “If you don’t put the lace through this little loop here”—I poked a pinky through it to illustrate my point—“the tongue drops inside and—”

“Shut up, Johnny.”

“Uh, yeah. Shutting up.” I let the runner thud back to the floor.

“That boner gone down yet?”

That was a surprise. “Excuse me?”

“That Empire State Building you’re sporting. Got it under control yet?”

“Um…” I did a quick inventory. In the face of Roxanne’s disapproval, shrinkage did seem to be happening. I removed my glasses, wiping them and my sweaty nose to buy time, then replaced them on my face. “Yeah.”

“Then if you think you can hold it together, can you please finish up with your client?”

“Do I have to?” The pathetic whine in my voice made me feel like a pussy, but the thought of returning to those scary calves and their vast female proprietor, now simpering in my direction, sent my manhood into a decline. “Can’t you finish up for me? I’ll deal with that lady over there. She’s been waiting over five minutes.”

Roxanne glanced across at the Vision, who flashed a pouty smile in our direction. My cock immediately declared itself ready to slay dragons on her behalf and dashed across the store to tell her so. I followed in a blissful fog until Roxanne’s sharp, “Dammit, Johnny!” brought both of us to a screeching halt. Truly trapped between a rock and a hard place, I wrestled my unwilling member, kicking and screaming, back to the counter.

I turned pleading eyes on my boss, involuntarily comparing her board-like chest to the voluptuous mammaries now headed towards the door. My cock gave one final tug in their direction and collapsed sobbing against the seam of my boxers as the door chime tinkled the Vision’s exit. I sighed.

Roxanne slung a purse over her shoulder and came out from behind the counter. “I’m heading out now. Finish up, will you?”

The clock on the wall read five fifty-five, and hope thrummed in my chest. I glanced from the timepiece to the boot lady, her come-hither smile still beaming my way, to Roxanne. “It’s over? I can go home?” Please say yes. Say yes. Say yes. Visions of ripping the boots from those bulbous legs and shoving their owner out the door flooded my optimistic brain.

“For me, yes. For you,” Roxanne bent her considerable height down so her mouth hovered close to my ear. Her warm breath tickled the lobe, “it’s not over till the fat lady’s shins”—her smirk was audible—“are in those boots. And that’s your job, Johnny Boy. Yours alone.”

***

A native of far-flung locations, and a grade A student of life, Carvalho developed his passion for fine foods and erotic encounters at a young age. He is proud to be a practicing member of the BDSM community, as well as a self-confessed and widely acknowledged grumpy old man.

In the Hot Pink series, D. de Carvalho serves up a smorgasbord of hot ‘n spicy erotic tales with no holds barred. Whether you savor sweet romance or crave the delicious tang of dark desire, Carvalho caters with tales to tempt every taste. Each sexy story arrives with a side order of humor, sprinkled with a touch of suspense, paranormal or mystery.

***

Email: ddecarvalho@thehotpinkpress.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/thehotpinkpress/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/hotpinkcarvalho
Website: http://thehotpinkpress.com/
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/D.-de-Carvalho/e/B01M2579HF/
Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/hot_pink

Sunday Sit-Down: Sue Seabury

Sue 04Another fantastic author interview! This week, I feature Sue Seabury. When she’s not making up stories, she’s working to solve the problems of cold fusion, wireless power transfer, and chocolate that imparts all necessary nutrition. She also has a new book coming out in the next couple weeks, called Shear Luck, about a hair dresser who hopped a plane to the wrong Juneau, and a sexy Tlingit Indian named Mario. Continue reading “Sunday Sit-Down: Sue Seabury”