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Claimed by Him – up on preorder and sneak peek!


Hey everyone!

I am so excited that CLAIMED BY HIM, the first of my Billionaire’s Club digital novella series from St. Martin’s, is already up for preorder on Amazon and Barnes and Noble. This series means the world to me. As many of you know, I was unable to write for two years due to my health, but seeing these stories – which I was able to finish several months ago – means that every single effort I made to get healthy and get better paid off. I am so grateful to be alive, well, and writing again! Also, I worked with the best editor at St. Martin’s on these and have to say that they have an amazing team of people. I truly hope all of you love these stories like I do. These men are so powerful and so sexy, I can’t pick a favorite if I wanted to. These heroes are to DIE for – and yet they’re the ones who would die for their ladies. Soon.

I’m going to launch this series with a huge contest where you can win a Kindle Fire or a Nook ereader, so I hope you check out my website around mid to late March for more details. In the meantime, I leave you with a short excerpt that I hope you will enjoy!


The Billionaire’s Club: The wealthiest, most powerful men, not only in Chicago, but in the world. They are used to getting whatever they want, whenever they want it.

For Graves Buchanan, the only thing he desires, but can never have is Chloe Lexington. He’s been secretly obsessed with this innocent “princess” who also happens to be his best friend’s sister.   But Graves would never dare touch her—he’s too badly damaged from his past, his desires are too erotic, too deep…too dark.

Chloe is just as obsessed with Graves.  She’s dreamed about him for so long, despite her brother’s warnings that she could never handle a man like him.  Now that Chloe has turned twenty-five, what she wants for her birthday is Graves and she’s determined to break down his walls to get him.  However, once she has him, can Chloe handle the torments of his past and the dark depths of passion he will unleash inside her…?


Chapter One


Graves Buchanan’s balls were up on the poker table, and if he lost this hand, it was going to hurt like hell. He was already a million dollars under, and up on that table, his second million sat nice and tight on a blue chip stack, right atop the felt green center.

One would argue that two million didn’t even put a dent in his bankroll. For every second that Graves sat on his butt in his friend’s state-of-the-art study, his businesses were racking up a couple of millions more. So no, it sure didn’t put a dent in his bankroll. But it sure as hell hurt his pride.

Yeah, he was already smarting. Big time.

Especially when he well knew that this pitiful losing streak was all because his concentration had been shit for a whole damned year.

Seated with three of his closest friends on their usual Wednesday poker night, he worked on keeping the mask of indifference on his face while dwelling on the indisputable fact that, with a measly pair of Jokers, he was going to have to bluff his way to a winning hand.

He surveyed his opponents’ faces. Today he played with his best friend, Daniel Lexington, who leaned back in his chair, cool as a cucumber in a pair of Ray Bans. Then there was Cade West, who was one pissed-off motherfucker. Guess you just didn’t bury your young wife two months after the wedding and have nothing to show for it. And of course, there was Luke Preston, the incorrigible playboy, who couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his worthless life.

“Well, well now, I’ve got some game here. Woohooo. Hold on to your pants, boys. I’m out for the big momma tonight and going all in.” Luke pushed all his chips into the center, and while Graves’s brain immediately began calculating how much he was going to lose if he called it, the shiny steel door to Daniel’s massive Public-Library-sized study cracked open a notch.

“Danny?” a female voice asked.

Grave’s entire body went rigid as he recognized the speaker. Suddenly, a cluster of strange, complicated feelings rolled around inside his chest, and all the blood started rushing to his groin. It was a miracle he managed to maintain his impassive expression, because every tiny nerve and cell and atom in his body came alive with a roar.

“Yeah, Chlo, come on in.” Daniel waved his younger sister in, and Grave’s wind pipe clamped shut as he watched her approach. Holy Mother of God, this girl was going to kill him.

Chloe Lexington had grown up to be the hottest hottie he had ever laid eyes upon. She was slender, light, and delectable, with a dimple on her chin and a wide, sensual mouth, and big green eyes that gutted you. Her curves were in all the right places, curves a guy’s hands would itch to mold and hold and play with.

She wore her straight, lustrous blonde hair at an illegal length now, and Graves had noticed a couple of days ago that the longest tips teased the top of her fanny when she walked. And what a perfect fanny, oh man. Graves had fantasized about Chloe’s delectable rear in ways he had no business fantasizing about it—but he just couldn’t get over those perky rounded cheeks, held up in the air by a pair of angels.

Tonight she wore a simple black strapless dress that made his mouth water inexplicably. Graves could take the rest of the night surveying her perfect figure and not want for anything else, but instead he tore his eyes away before both Daniel and she noticed the giant erection growing in his lap, even if he was shielded by the table.

A monster hard-on right now was not what he’d consider good news.

Graves was a bad, bad boy with his hard-ons, and the kind of shit he liked to do with them wouldn’t sit well with a nice girl like Chloe. Much less with her brother—who was known to do even worse things with his hard-ons.

Daniel Lexington’s motto of “No pain, no gain” extended far beyond the gym, they all knew.

“Hey, Chlo, get over here and let me have a good look at you. Let me give that rump a nice little pat, woman,” Luke purred, waving her over.

“Lay off, Luke,” Daniel growled.

Luke laughed. “Relax, man. She’s your sister. Even I have my limits—plus you know I like my sex rowdy.”

“You’d fuck your own mother if it’d get you off,” Daniel replied.

Chloe was being a good sport about it though, coming forward with a seductive sway of her hips and sparkling green eyes. “Eat your heart out, Luke,” she said, ruffling his blonde hair. Then her smile faded and her eyes slid along the table until they stopped at Graves. “Hey guys…Hi, Graves.” The merriment had fled from her face, and her voice dropped a decibel when she spoke his name.

Fuck me. It did all kinds of things to him, to meet those green eyes and think of Colorado forests, to hear her say his name in that seductive murmur. Her voice was fluffy like marshmallows, and it made Graves feel like the freaking smore being burnt on all ends and crushed in the middle.

His pants strained painfully under the table and his chest cramped in ways he absolutely loathed. “Hey, Chlo,” he said, and flicked his eyes back to his measly pair of Jacks.

“Are you losing again?” she asked. “Danny said you were on a bad streak lately.”

She slid over to him and bent down to see his cards, and Graves knew that very second, he was fucked. The guys would look at her face, see that little O forming on her mouth, and know that Graves had shit. But he still sat there and let it all happen. Because her minty scent teased his nostrils and tortured his senses.

Strands of honeyed hair fell to his shoulders as she bent to take a closer peek, and then she turned her head so that he could see every golden speck in her lovely eyes. Her stare was full of amusement and pity, clearly saying, You are so screwed, Graves.

Yeah, but she didn’t even know the half of it.

Nobody did.

Because Daniel was his best friend, and Graves was crazy sick in love with his little sister.



Beautiful Scars

Now out…

Some scars cut right to the heart.


Three years after her divorce, Chaili Bennett is over her ex. Her only problem now? Of the few men she’s dated since, no one “gets” her. Not like Marc Archer—a man who’s never seen her as more than a friend.


Marc Archer needs a date for a last-minute charity event, and he needs it fast. Not that women aren’t throwing themselves at his world-famous face and body, but sometimes it’s less messy—as in less personal—to use his sister Shera’s escort service.


The last woman on earth Marc expects to see in his sister’s office is Chaili. There’s something different about her, but nothing pleases him more when Shera sets them up. That simple date quickly evolves into much more as they both discover the other fills a deep, secret need they’ve shared with no one else.


Though Chaili insists one night is all she wants, Marc isn’t walking away now. Not until he discovers what put the shadows in her eyes. And the scars on her soul.




“You wanted to kiss me stupid, baby girl. Have at it.”

Cupping his face in her hands, she eased up onto her toes, angling her head just a little as she pressed her mouth to his. Hmmm. The way he tasted. He was…yeah. Just amazing. Just like his voice. Whiskey-soaked addiction. Flicking her tongue against his lips, she groaned as he opened for her. Leaning in closer, she nibbled on his lower lip, nipped the upper one and then pushed inside.

He shuddered against her, but remained unmoving, impassive.

If it wasn’t for the way she could feel his chest rising and falling against her, so ragged and harsh, she might think he was unaffected. If it wasn’t for the way his body felt rigid, heavy with tension and need, she might think he wasn’t as aroused as she was.

One drugged kiss after another—now the need pulsed inside her, a vicious ache.

When she pulled away, she paused and rubbed her cheek against his, smiling at the way his unshaven skin rasped against the softness of her own. Shooting a quick look at his eyes, she shivered a little when she saw that he was watching her, his gaze so focused, so intense.

She pressed a kiss to his chin, down his neck. Along the sleek muscled lines of his chest. “You know, for a piano player, you sure are cut,” she teased. “What do you do, lift the pianos or something?”

“I chase after smart-mouthed web designers,” he muttered, swatting her on the ass.

“I don’t think that would make you look quite like this,” she said, sighing as she smoothed her hands over his chest. The silver hoop in his nipple was gone, replaced by a barbell. Tugging on it, she watched as a fine tremor racked his body. “I like this.”


Samhain | Amazon | BN | iBookstore

Now…your final chance to enter the contest…

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Sexy Little Surprises

Here’s my next…and my first. Sort of. Under a new name. It’s out today…Sexy Little Surprises, written as J.C. Daniels.

Contemporary romance…


Meet me in Room 145.

That was what she’d written on the note she’d placed inside the envelope.

All damn day, she’d worried he might not come and now…now she was waiting. It occurred to her that he might not show up.

At least not unless she outright called him and told him who was sending him all those sexy little surprises.

Alexis was having fun, though, playing the secret admirer to her husband. They hadn’t had fun in a long while.

Not since—

“No. Not the time to think about it.” She slid off the bed and paced across the room to stare outside. The conference hotel was just down the street from the station and her room’s location was ideal. She could see him coming, if she watched. She’d asked to see the room before she reserved it and it had been just perfect.

Before that long-familiar pain could unbury itself, she focused on here. On now.

That pain would never go away, she knew that.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she rested her head on the glass. She missed that little girl…she’d missed out on finding out who she would have been, missed out on holding her. But the grief had torn a hole in her marriage and it was well past time to movebeyond this.

Stroking a hand down her white, silk chemise, she rested a hand on her belly and focused on Garrett. On her husband.

They’d forgotten themselves and that was the problem.

This time was about them. That was what the gifts were about…what the past two days had been about. For her. To have fun with him again. And yeah, he hadn’t figured out it was her, but she’d clue him in.

They could take a little while to start having fun with each other again. Rebuild their marriage, and once it was stronger, they could maybe talk about the things they’d lost…and see about building that path again.

But first…he needed to show up.

Elloras Cave (other buy links to come as they are available)

My J.C. Daniels site…

Thrills & Chills Giveaway…

Hey guys… Lisa Renee Jones, Jaci Burton & I are doing a contest between now and the early part of November.  You can win a Nook Color and all you have to do is comment.

Check out my blog for details…info is found here… and the links to the participating author are in the sidebar of my blog.  Today’s guest post is from Jaci, at my blog here.

We’ve also only got about five days until IF YOU HEAR HER releases.  I’ll be doing some guest blogs and such coming up.  Info for that is found in the sidebar of my blog. 🙂



Radcliff KY signing cancelled…

There was a mention of a booksigning in the Writerspace newsletter. Originally, this signing had been set for June 11 in Radcliff. Unfortunately, for reasons outside of my control, that signing has been cancelled.

So sorry for anybody who planning to attend!

I will be in Cincinnati on June 4th at the Lori Foster event-there is a public signing and details are at Lori Foster’s site.

It’s Saturday, June 4th from 2-4pm, at the hotel.

Cincinnati Marriott North
6189 Mulhauser Road
West Chester, OH 45069-4842

Shiloh Walker


Harlequin is Trying Something New

And I get to be one of the vanguard authors.  It’s pretty cool, really.  I get to wear a spacey looking suit and fly in hovercraft…oh, um…not really.  Sigh…  I just think being a vanguard should come with something Sci-Fi like, don’t you? 🙂

Okay, on with Harlequin’s new thing!  They are releasing two category books together in one volume.  Rather than being stacked in Harlequin’s special sections in bookstores, they’ll be sold along with all the other single titles.  They’ve been doing this in the UK for years (with a great deal of success, I might add), but it’s a brand-new  venture for Harlequin in North America.  The imprint is called Showcase and one of May’s launch books will include my The Sicilian’s Marriage Arrangement (winner of CataRomance’s Reviewers Choice Award) and Julia James’ The Greek’s Virgin Bride.

I love when publishers try something different – it’s good for readers and authors!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Sicilian’s Marriage Arrangement (by Lucy Monroe):  Hope Bishop is stunned when darkly sexy Sicilian tycoon Luciana di Valerio proposes marriage. Brought up by her wealthy but distant grandfather, she is used to fading into the background. But Luciano’s sensual lovemaking makes her feel vibrantly alive. Hope falls in love with her husband and is blissfully happy—until she discovers that Luciano married her to fulfill his own ruthless agenda…!

Read an Excerpt!

The Greek’s Virgin Bride (by Julia James):  As the illegitimate granddaughter of a famous Greek billionaire, Andrea Fraser was disowned at birth and grew up in poverty. Now, at the age of twenty-five, she is unexpectedly called to Greece, where shocking news awaits her-Andrea’s grandfather has found her a husband! She’s promised to tycoon Nikos Vassilis as part of a business deal. But Andrea has no intention of meekly accepting a marriage of convenience. Nikos may be the most sophisticated man she’s ever met, but she’ll be leaving him the first chance…

Watch for the book video and more information on the book in May! 🙂


(Cross-posted from my personal blog)


So over on twitter, they often have what they call #writechat.

Basically, it’s like a chat room.  They were talking about the difference between an author and writer.

One tweet, can’t remember the exact words, but it was that you’re an author once you’re published.  Before that, you’re a writer.

This is where opinion is going to come into play, and a lot of it will be personal preference, I think.

Now people can call me an author…and I don’t care.  I am, there’s no reason saying other wise.

But if somebody asks me what I do?  I’m a writer.

When I sit down to work, I’m writing a story. I’m not authoring.  “Authoring”, if you think about, seriously, doesn’t that sound kind of stodgy…pretentious?  Um…it certainly doesn’t sound like what I’m doing when I write, IMO.  I’m writing, and unless I’m banging a character’s head against a brick wall, I’m having fun.  I’m just writing…and I’m a writer.

Here’s the thing… for me, getting hung up on what label somebody applies to me, or any other group of writers, is a waste of time.  This is just my opinion, of course. Nobody has to agree.  But why worry on the label?  There are books to be written.  Published, unpublished, there are always books to be written.  Published, unpublished, you can always improve your craft.  Published, unpublished, you can always seek to improve.

The book matters more than the label… or at least, I think it should…


And in other news… I’ve got a book out… BROKEN

Broken 3.2010


Quinn Rafferty is working as a bounty hunter and bail bondsman in St. Louis when a new neighbor catches his eye. He’s tempted by her beauty—but he knows from experience that anyone desperate enough to live in his building is damaged goods. Besides, he has his own soul to mend before he can worry about anyone else.


Sara Davis is on the run, but not for the usual reasons a woman goes on the lam. She’s not an abused wife, and she’s not a criminal. But she does have a plan for her future. And as much as she finds herself attracted to her gruff, tough neighbor, she can’t risk telling him the secrets she’s hiding. There’s just too much at stake.

Driven to desire…

But Quinn must get closer to Sara when she turns out to be the target of his new missing persons case, and he discovers that there is something more complex and dangerous to her than he thought. Now, both Quinn and Sara will have to expose their true feelings—as well as their fragile hearts—if they hope their love will survive…


He opened the door—

And stopped dead in his tracks as somebody all but fell into his arms. Somebody…a woman. And not Theresa.

He caught her just above her elbows, automatically steadying her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice soft and low.

Then she lifted her face and Quinn found himself gazing into the biggest, brownest eyes he’d ever seen in his life. Feeling a little dazed, he studied her face while she stammered out another apology.

Quinn barely heard it.

He was too busy staring at her mouth. A very pretty mouth, a cupid’s bow mouth slicked with deep, vibrant red. Under his hands, he could feel silken smooth skin and unable to resist, he stroked a thumb along her inner arm.

Her skin was soft, soft and warm. He was also pretty sure she had the creamiest, most flawless skin imaginable. Her shoulder-length hair was a shade caught between blonde and brown, nondescript, but for some reason, he found himself thinking about tangling his fingers in that hair and holding her head still while he kissed that red-slicked mouth.

Well, hello…

read more…

Borders | BAMM | B & N | Book Depository | IndieBound | Amazon | Powell’s

Shiloh Walker

DELICIOUS is nearly here!

Berkley Heat
ISBN: 978-0425232422
Release Date: March 2
Buy: Amazon | Barnes & Noble

He can’t control his desire.

 Luc Traverson’s entire future is planned out—but there is one very sexy obstacle in his path: Alyssa Devereaux . She’s a former exotic dancer turned strip club owner and restaurateur. Recently, Alyssa and Luc shared one night of wild abandon that left Luc terrified by his loss of self-control—and Alyssa desperate for more.

 And that’s just the way she wants it.

 Fulfilling a promise, Luc is the guest chef for Alyssa’s restaurant debut. The sight of her makes Luc wild, so how can he survive a week without letting loose and ravaging her—especially when she’s begging for it? Luc’s desire for her explodes when he realizes he isn’t the only man desperate to have her. But one of the others is deadly. And that’s not the end of Alyssa’s secrets…which are as dark and mysterious and enticing as her fantasies.


“…another winner from Black. Spicy… Will thrill erotica and mystery fans alike.” Romantic Times

“With commanding and passionate love scenes, DELICIOUS is a book to be savored over and over. I consider it one of the best books I have ever read – it totally satisfied my romance loving heart.” ~ Romance Junkies

Recommended Read! “…a book you won’t forget anytime soon. Erotic, emotional…suspenseful. The combination of those, along with Ms. Black’s superb writing, makes Delicious a have-to-read and a keeper…” ~ Joyfully Reviewed

“…a real pager turner. A keeper you don’t want to miss!” ~ Love Romances and More

“Shayla Black delivers a steamy erotic romance of depth… The signature storytelling of Shayla Black is present and thriving in DELICIOUS; enriched with a surprising plot, charismatic and recognizable characters, emotional depth and searing eroticism. Who could want more in an erotic romance…” ~ Realms on Your Bookshelves


Until Alyssa Devereaux, had he ever gotten stone hard just by looking at a woman from across a room? Luc didn’t like the answer.

He didn’t have to wonder what was under that little skirt; he knew. Sleek thighs surrounded by garters in some color designed to drive a man wild. A lacy thong that would reveal far more of her assets than it concealed. And under that . . . The feel and taste of her slick, swollen folds dive-bombed his memory and revved him up, as if he’d injected rocket fuel in his bloodstream.

And he had to work beside her for a week. Hell. How was he going to prevent a recurrence of the event he wanted to forget—yet couldn’t?

You’re a professional. Cook and keep your hands to yourself. Besides, it wasn’t as if he had nothing else to think about. Negotiations for his cable TV show were nearly at an end. He had a bit of editing to do on his latest cookbook. There wouldn’t be that much downtime this week, but what little there’d be, he would fill.

Clearly, Alyssa had a way to fill her time as well. The huge slab of man at her side whose cheek she’d kissed a moment ago wore a Sexy Sirens T-shirt stretched across his enormous chest. A bartender? A bouncer? Whoever he was, the guy slanted a possessive glance at Alyssa that Luc couldn’t miss, then glared at him.

Tamping down his irrational anger, Luc reminded himself that if Alyssa wanted to fuck her hired help, that was her business.

The violent urge to dismember her employee would pass.

Alyssa took a step toward Luc, then another.

“Mistress Alyssa,” a female called over the speakers in a saucy vamp voice. “Your turn!”

She stopped. Closed her eyes. Sighed. Bracing herself?

Then, as if the hesitation had never been, she flashed him a cool blue gaze, pointed at a chair in front of the stage, then turned away and strode backstage. Luc couldn’t help himself. He watched her walk away, the sway of those curvy hips a siren call. Damn.

If they had been alone, there was no way Luc could have prevented himself from touching her. Period.

Unless he wanted another brush with his uncontrollable wild side, he needed to forget his reckless promise to her and get out of this job. Now.

Reluctantly, Luc sauntered to the front of the stage and sat in the chair Alyssa had indicated. As soon as she finished whatever the hell she was doing and talked to him, he’d tell her all bets were off. Hell, he’d pay her for her inconvenience.

Because if he stayed, his dick would get him into trouble. He’d have her naked and be between her legs in two minutes. Or less. And that would be bad. He was looking for Mrs. Right, someone uncomplicated who wanted children as much as he did and would help him keep his beast at bay. Alyssa Devereaux, stripper divine, was definitely not that woman.

Suddenly, music pounded through the speakers, blaring with a naughty beat, a wicked slide of horn. Every note suggested sex—the hot, sweaty, no-boundaries variety.

The type he’d had with her and wanted again.

Pulling his loose shirt over his lap to cover his erection, Luc watched as Alyssa strutted onto the stage. She’d piled her straight platinum hair into some wild arrangement on top of her head and donned a sequined bolero jacket in red. He was dying to see what she wore underneath. The way she moved was an invitation . . . and a promise.

She planted her stiletto-clad feet in front of him with a decisive step, then swung her hips, making a sensual circle. She flattened her palm across the bare skin of her tanned abdomen—and began lowering it. She reached down . . . so damn slowly. Luc’s breath caught in his chest until, finally, she touched herself. Oh, hell.

Her fingers glided between her legs, and she tossed her head back as if she was in utter ecstasy.

Luc swallowed. And started to sweat.

With a jerk of her head, Alyssa snapped her gaze back to him, her eyes like focused blue lasers jolting him to his toes.

Damn it, his nine weeks of dating church secretaries, interior decorators, and elementary school teachers showed. Not one of them had incited an erection. During that time, he’d awakened in the middle of the night more than once, sweating, his dick in his hand and Alyssa’s name on his lips. Now, after less than five minutes in her presence, he felt ready to explode.

He had to think about the right F words—future and family. Unfortunately, with Alyssa near, the urge to fuck her again kept killing his good intentions.

In the next moment, she released the soft strands of her hair, which hugged her shoulders, clung to her breasts, flirted with her waist. Then she peeled off the little jacket and left it carelessly on the floor, exposing a tiny half top Luc could swear showed the shadows of her areolas. She stepped over the jacket and strutted toward the pole in the center of the stage. When she gripped it with both hands and undulated against it, pressing it to the juncture of her thighs, Luc damn near choked.

And still she continued to stare as if she danced just for him.

The music swelled, wailing with sensuality and suggestion. Alyssa upped her game, sticking a finger into the wet cavern of her mouth and sucking. More blood rushed to Luc’s cock at the memory of her mouth around him, her tongue slick across the head, inciting a sizzle that burned his whole body. Even months later, he could feel the lash of her tongue, the hot silk of her mouth. He shuddered.

With a kittenish smile, Alyssa popped her finger from her mouth and drew the damp fingertip down her cleavage. Then her palm took over, smoothing her right breast with an invitation to pure sin on her gorgeous face.

Dear God, no wonder she’d built herself a little empire here in Lafayette. The woman was a walking wet dream and did her job well. No red-blooded, heterosexual male could withstand such intense teasing and stay sane.

Out of the corner of his eye, Luc saw Alyssa’s employee, the one she’d touched earlier, sidle closer to the stage. With a quick turn of his head, Luc quickly saw that the mountain in the tight black T-shirt was tense, panting, and sporting a bulge that said he wanted to get busy.

Luc wished he could say that didn’t piss him off. But he’d be lying.

Then, as Luc’s stare returned to the stage, he damn near forgot his own name.

Alyssa turned her back on him and bent at the waist, staring at him over one mostly bare shoulder with a fuck-me look that stunned him. Luc gripped the arms of his chair, willing himself to stay in it, not charge up on the stage, lay her flat, and get inside her again this instant.

The spaghetti strap of her little top was falling down her arm. And that indecent skirt . . . With her bent over, the hint of the bare ass cheeks flashed from beneath the black silk. Her garters were a come-hither red. Her thong—he could see only a scrap of it—matched.

Soft fingers teased their way up her shin, her thigh, and disappeared under that little skirt. Her eyes half-closed, her sultry mouth parted on a silent moan of seeming self-pleasure. His entire body tensed.

He had to get the hell out of there.

Her hands swept up her undulating hips, gathering the skirt with them. She tugged at the little black garment, and it fluttered to the floor. The tanned halves of her backside, bisected by a bit of red lace, crashed fresh lust into his chest, making it damn hard to breathe.

Alyssa had a gorgeous ass. But he’d known that. Luc squeezed his eyes shut so the visual temptation of her bare flesh didn’t taunt him. Memories of tunneling into her ass pounded him instead. Her perfect willingness to take him any way he’d wanted. The tightness of her damp, musky body clasping him. The sweat dripping off of them as he’d thrust deep. Her moans.

Christ, the burning lust had to stop—at least long enough to tell her that he wouldn’t be staying.

Praying the torture would end soon, Luc opened his eyes. And sucked in a breath.

Alyssa flashed him a naughty smile of invitation as she ripped her small top right down the front to reveal a red demi bra that barely covered her nipples. Hard nipples. Pink, melt-in-his-mouth nipples he remembered all too well.

Luc squirmed in his chair—and nearly went off like a teenage boy. Beyond aroused, his cock was so sensitive, the feel of denim sliding against the head nearly had him coming.

He had to leave. Forget the polite conversation; he’d send her an e-mail with an explanation. Because if he stayed, he would shove his long-term goals aside and fuck her senseless.

As he stood, Luc mentally reviewed a list of chefs—female ones—he could pay to assist Alyssa this week. A short list, but a few durable names. He’d send idiotproof recipes . . .

The red bra dropped to the ground at Alyssa’s feet.

Her large breasts were as golden as the rest of her body and swayed gracefully with her every undulation, every step. Those nipples he remembered so damn well beckoned, Taste me.

Turn away! he demanded of himself.

His legs didn’t move.

Alyssa danced her way down the stairs, holding her breasts up in offering. She pranced past her aroused employee and shot the man a mirthful smile as she caressed the side of his face. Luc tensed when the beefy guy tried to snatch her up in his arms. But Alyssa was too fast and spun out of his grip, toward Luc.

The damp spot at the front of her thong kicked him in the gut. He clenched his fists as she danced closer, closer . . .

She dropped to her knees before him and looked up. Their gazes locked. She panted. Hard. Despite his jeans, her hot breaths caressed his cock. Release broiled in his balls, and he hadn’t touched her once.

There was no way he could stop himself from reaching out to tangle his fingers into her hair and bringing her mouth closer.


Only 6 days until release! To celebrate, I’ve been running the Delicious Tease contest on my blog. Daily book giveaways with a grandprize awarded in April of an iPod Touch. Swing by and play!

Children of the Moon Book Release

I’m so excited about the release of this book.  After hundreds of reader emails and lots of prodding from the characters, I finally got the book written despite life going to heck in handbasket around me. Just goes to show that the silver lining is sometimes a true book of the heart. 🙂

Moon Craving
Feb 2010 – Berkley Sensation
ISBN-13: 978-0425233047
Children of the Moon Book 2

If it were up to him, Talorc—laird of the Sinclair clan and leader of his werewolf pack— would never marry. But when the king orders that Talorc wed an Englishwoman, the lone wolf is shocked to find his mate in the strong-willed Abigail. And after an intensely climactic wedding night, the two fiercely independent souls sense an unbreakable bond…

Deaf since childhood, Abigail hopes to keep her affliction from Talorc as long as possible. And for his part, he has no intention of telling her about being a werewolf. But when Abigail learns that the husband she’s begun to love has deceived her, it will take all of his warrior’s strength—and his wolf’s cunning—to win his wife back. And Talorc will have to face his biggest challenge yet: the vulnerability of a man in love…

As a special thank you to readers, I’m giving away a prize pack of pamper yourself products and paranormal romance. All you have to do to enter is send an email with Moon Craving Contest in the subject line to moon_craving at yahoo dot com before February 28th, 2010. The drawing will be held March 1st and the winner will be announced on my personal blog.