Love Musings

Yay! Forbidden Embers Releases Today!

2011-10-04T07:57:00.000-05:00

Hi Everyone! Sorry for my long, dry spell-- I've been working to get the Tracy Deebs name and blog off the ground. But I just have to share. My third Dragon's Heat novel, Forbidden Embers, hits the shelves today, October 4th! This is Logan's story and I can't wait to hear what you think.

To whet your appetite, here's the blurb:

The Dragonstar clan is under attack, endangered by an insidious enemy. Now a top sentry must go undercover, but the task will be more than he bargained for…

Desperate to save his clan from deadly biological warfare, Dragonstar sentry Logan Kelly must infiltrate the Wyvermoon clan—and put an end to the war. Posing as a rogue dragon without a clan, Logan quickly realizes how close the Wyvermoons are to anarchy since the death of their leader. Their ranks are thin, and their only hope lies in Cecily Fournier, the princess whose grasp on the throne is shaky at best. All he has to do is stick around long enough to see his enemies fail.

The plan is foolproof. Until he falls for Cecily.

What starts as an uneasy alliance turns into an uncontrollable passion. As the spark between them gets hotter, Logan discovers the Wyvermoon’s hidden agenda. But how can he bring down the Wyvermoons without exposing himself as a traitor to the woman he loves?

And here's an exclusive excerpt:

He scanned one more time, came up with nothing. Dropped all but the innermost layers of his mental shields and still came away empty handed. She wasn’t really thinking about anything, was just lying there, on his sleeping bag, in a dreamy, half-awake state that he longed to be a part of.

Finally, as certain as he could be that she wasn’t there for any reason beyond the obvious, he stepped into the clearing. Both man and dragon preened at the sight of her there, waiting for him on the closest thing to a bed he currently had.

He walked over to her slowly, making no effort to disguise his approach. He didn’t want to startle her, after all. Not now, when he was so close to his goal. But Cecily didn’t move, even when he stood over her, and a little spurt of alarm worked its way through him. Had his scan been wrong? Was she hurt somehow?

“Cecily.” He called her name as he crouched over her, reached a hand out to stroke her cheek. The skin was warm, supple, and his beast—coiled to attack at the threat of her being hurt—relaxed at the feel of her.

Her eyes opened slowly, dreamily and she looked so inviting laying there, her long, blond hair spread around her like a halo, that it took all his willpower not to jump on her and take her like the starving man he suddenly was.

“Logan.” Her smile was soft and sweet, as was the hand she reached up to brush against his chest. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” he agreed, his voice hoarse. “And so are you.”

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I can see that.”

She flushed a little, her skin turning that same milky pink it had the day before. It made him want to lap her up, one slow lick at a time. His dragon roared its approval and, unable to resist, he leaned down and nuzzled the silky skin beneath her ear.

Her breath caught and her hands came up to clutch at his head, to hold him in place. Logan grinned at the thought, more than happy to stay exactly where he was for, say, the next century or so. He nuzzled her again, then swirled his tongue behind her ear.

She gasped, arched, and her hands trembled in his hair. His arousal shot through the stratosphere at the obvious signs of her arousal. She was incredibly responsive, even more so than she’d been the night before when he’d used his mind to bring her to orgasm, and he was dying to get inside her. To see how she reacted when he was actually making love to her.

At the same time, though, he wanted to take things slowly, To explore every part of her that he could. To find every sweet spot on her body and make her as crazy for him as he was for her.

He pulled away reluctantly, gratified by her small whimper and the way her hands tried to hold on to him. “It’s okay, darlin’. I’m not going anywhere.”

He shifted, lowered himself to the ground beside her, then stretched out on his side so that he was facing her, their bodies only inches apart. She smiled at him, a tremulous curving of her lips that worked its way inside of him and melted his heart just a little, when he would have sworn such a thing was impossible.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t come back,” he said, then immediately regretted the impulse. What was wrong with him? He was supposed to be exploiting her vulnerabilities, not showing her his own.

But she didn’t move to take instant advantage of his admission, didn’t do anything but reach out and stroke a hand over the roughness of his chin. He hadn’t shaved in a couple days and suddenly he wished that he had. He didn’t want to scrape her sensitive skin with his stubble.

“I couldn’t stay away,” she answered, rubbing her knuckles against his unscarred cheek.

“I could shave,” he offered. “If it’s bothering you—“

“Are you kidding? I love the way it feels. I want to feel it against—“ She broke off, her eyes shifting away shyly and his temperature skyrocketed.

“Where?” he demanded, grabbing her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilting her head until she was once again looking him in the eye. “Where do you want to feel it?”

She shook her head, her white little teeth biting down on her lower lip in embarrassment or nervousness or some other emotion he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Cecily,” he asked again, and this time even he could hear the dragon in the deep gravel of his voice. “Tell me.”

“I can’t.” Her voice broke. “Don’t make me say it.”

He swore at the vulnerability in her eyes, at the shyness that was so shocking in another shifter. He must have spent too much of his time in recent years around dominant, confident females—he’d forgotten what it was like to be with a woman who wasn’t clawing his back as she told him exactly what she wanted from him.

Before Cecily, he would have sworn that was exactly what he liked in a woman, but there was something about her reticence that turned him on harder and faster than any woman ever had before.

“I’m sorry, darling’.” He brushed a soothing kiss over her forehead. “I didn’t mean to push so hard.”

She shook her head. “Don’t apologize. I’m the one who—“

He stopped her with a kiss. And though he wanted to devour her, to thrust his tongue into the honeyed recesses of her mouth and take everything she had, he kept it soft, sweet, and he hoped, a little comforting. She deserved that much, after the way he’d come at her the day before down by the lake—and later, in her thoughts.

He’d been a selfish asshole with her, he realized, as he soothed her nerves away with tender kisses to her cheeks, her forehead, the corner of her mouth. He’d been so caught up in his own needs and desires that he’d forgotten what the instant attraction between them must be like for her.

She was young, less than an eighth of his age, so she had to be relatively inexperienced sexually—at least compared to him. Which meant that for her to give her body to him--a man she didn’t know very well and who wasn’t of her clan—she was probably already stretching her comfort zone. He needed to take it easy with her.

But it was hard to remember that, and even harder to do it, when her body arched against his and he could feel the heat rolling off her in waves that called to him and to the beast inside him. Her breasts pushed against his chest and he could feel her hard little nipples digging into his muscles there. It was making him crazy with the need to be inside her.

Her needs weren’t the same as his, he reminded himself viciously. At least not yet. He needed to pet her and tease her and take it slow if he had any hope of raising her desire to the fever pitch his was already at. Reining in his need-- and the dragon that was prowling just beneath his skin, watching, waiting for its chance to get to her—Logan took a deep breath. Then reached for her, praying his control was as good as he thought it was.

I hope you like!

Winner of Graveminder is

2011-05-28T09:44:00.000-05:00

Robin K! Congrats, Robin. Email me your snail mail and I'll drop it in the mail to you.

Sorry this is late: DEADLINES are kicking my butt this week!

Also, I'll be in Houston at Murder by the Book at 4 pm today and Katy Budget Books tomorrow at 2 pm. signing Tempest Rising with the Chills and Thrills Book Tour! Stop by and say hi if you're in the area :)

Happy Memorial Day Weekend!

Come See Me ...

2011-05-21T06:49:00.000-05:00

Come see me ...

If you live in the Dallas area :) I'll be at A Real Bookstore in Fairview at 2 p.m. today as part of the Chills and Thrills Teen book tour and I'll be at the Hurst, TX Barnes and Noble (Fortworth) tomorrow. I'd love to see you!!!!

Since I'm on the road all weekend, I thought I'd ask what you're up to? Any amazing plans? Leave a comment and be entered to win a signed copy of the ARC for Graveminder by Melissa Marr.

What I'm Working on Now!

2011-05-17T17:58:00.000-05:00

Hi Everyone-- I know I've been scarce lately, but let me tell you! Launching Tempest Rising (directly after promoting Hidden Embers) has put me way behind in everything. I'm on massive deadline (two books due like right now) and a bunch of other stuff right around the corner. Anyway, first off, I wanted to say thank you to all of you for making Tempest Rising's release week such a big success. I really appreciate it :) I have the best fans in the world!!!

Also, I'm just finishing up my dragon short story, Eternal Embers, which will be online from Penguin this September, so I'll post something from that later in the week. But today, I thought I'd give you a glimpse of my new YA. Tentatively called Zero Day, it's the Pandora Book I keep telling you about-- the one where she opens an attachment instead of a box and hearkens technological Armageddon. Anyway, here's a quick look-- hope you enjoy!

My seventeenth birthday starts with betrayal.

Lies.

Mayhem.

Violence.

It ends the same way but that’s a different story—at least for now.

AP English is my first class of the day and for the past two weeks we’ve been doing a unit on Shakespeare. Love sonnets. A history in the form of Henry V. Biography studies. And now, a tragedy. And not just any tragedy, mind you, but Othello, which just might be the most tragic of the tragedies, or so I’ve been told. My best friends, Jules and Emily, assure me that they have it worse—they’re reading Hamlet in their regular Brit Lit class-- but I’m not so sure. Shakespeare’s Moor is no picnic, especially at eight forty-five in the morning.

Even worse, Mr. March—who is usually pretty cool—has divided us into groups to analyze scenes. Again, not such a bad thing, except for the fact that 1) we have to act them out in front of the class and 2) he was obviously off his meds when he chose our partners. My group consists of me, Senior class president and head cheerleader Tara McKinney (who wears about an inch of make-up every day and drives a Barbie Pink Hummer—Barbie Pink! Need I say more?), Zane Connolly (the biggest nerd in the school, which is totally fine, except he has a crush on Tara and it’s painful to watch him try to get her attention) and the new guy, Eli Sanders (who I know nothing about, except that he’s seriously hot). Sleepy green eyes partially obstructed by his shaggy blonde hair, super-broad shoulders and a really good face complete with strong jaw, full lips and a dimple.

A dimple.

I melt a little at the sight of it, even as I tell myself to get a grip. But it’s hard. I’m a sucker for a dimple and always have been. I try not to look at it, at him, as we push our desks together. Getting to be with Eli might make putting up with the other two group members worth it, except for the fact that I look like hell.

I know, I know. You’re used to hearing girls say that all the time. But I’m not one of those girls who freaks out every time she breaks a nail (though my best friend, Emily, is). Still, today has to be an all-time low. Not just for me, but for girls everywhere. I was up way too late last night (insominia, thy name is Pandora—see, I can do Shakespeare) and slept through my alarm this morning. I didn’t get up until Jules called to find out why I wasn’t already at her house to pick her up. Needless to say, dressed in the dirty jeans I found on my bedroom floor and the vintage Hendrix tank top I slept in last night, I’m not exactly at my best right now. Or anywhere close to it.

Eli scoots his desk into the spot next to mine and I am painfully aware of the fact that my personal hygiene is a little lacking today. I brushed my teeth—on the run—but I’m pretty sure my hair is sticking up in every direction imaginable. And not because I arranged it that way.

If you have time, drop me a note and let me know what you think of Pandora. She's very different than Tempest, to say the least!

The Chills and Thrills Teen Book Tour

2011-05-11T06:42:00.000-05:00

Hi, Everyone! Forgive me for cross-posting on my blogs these last couple of days, but I'm trying to get all the info out :) I promise new content very soon, LOL.

Thanks so much for all your support and well-wishes these last couple of days. Tempest's release day was a blast for me (yes, I went to BN to stare at my pretty book on the shelves, LOL) then I went to lunch with two of my closest friends to celebrate!!!!!

I'm a little late on getting this up, but in case you haven't heard, I'm part of the Chills and Thrills Teen Book Tour that is going through Texas in the next couple of weeks. Authors signing are:

Tracy Deebs
Tera Lynn Childs
Sophie Jordan
Mari Mancusi
Lara Chapman
Jennifer Archer
Jordan Dane

and we'll be signing at:

Saturday, May 14th
La Cantera Barnes and Noble, San Antonio
12-2 p.m.
(Btw, Rick Riordan is signing right after us, in case any of you are interested!)

Sunday, May 15th
BookPeople, Austin
2-4 p.m.

Friday, May 20th,
Barnes and Noble, Waco, TX
6-8 p.m.

Saturday, May 21st
A Real Bookstore, Plano, Texas
2-4 p.m.

Sunday, May 22nd
Barnes and Noble, Hurst, TX
2-4 p.m.

Saturday, May 28th
Murder by the Book, Houston, TX
4:30-6:30 p.m.

Sunday, May 29th
Katy Budget Books, Houston, TX
2-4 p.m.

Now, not all of us will be at all the stops (though I will be, LOL) so for more info, check out our website at:
http://chillsandthrillsteenbooktour.wordpress.com/ It's got all the info on our books and who we are, along with addresses, etc. for all our stops. Hope to see you at one of the stores!

Tempest Rising Releases Tomorrow!!!!!!

2011-05-09T15:28:00.002-05:00

I can't believe that Tempest Rising will finally be on the shelves. It seems so long ago that I decided I wanted to write a YA about mermaids (October 2009) and yet it's finally time, nineteen months after I originally conceived of the concept. It gives me shivers :)

So far, the reviews coming in are really good. Here are a few links, in case you want to check them out:

'Tempest Rising is an unpredictable and magical tale about sea creatures and destiny that entranced me. I thoroughly enjoyed my time with this book and was really sad when I finally closed the novel." --IB Book Blogging

http://www.ibbookblogging.com/2011/05/review-tempest-rising-by-tracy-deebs.html

"Romance and adventure abound in this mermaid tale that’s a fin above the rest. " --All Things Urban Fantasy

http://allthingsurbanfantasy.blogspot.com/2011/05/early-review-tempest-rising-by-tracy.html

"Tempest Rising was a thrilling, exotic, and romantic read with many twists and turns ... I'm beginning to think that the thrill of the water is more appealing than an eternity of night..." --Allykatzz

http://www.allykatzz.com/page/forus/member_blog_detail/?member_id=60483&source_id=1218866

"TEMPEST RISING, by Tracy Deebs, is a wonderfully crafted 'coming of age' story about a girl who needs to decide between the life she has always known or another life under the deep blue sea. I absolutely loved this book." --Sit Here and Read
http://www.sithereandread.com/2011/05/blog-tour-tempest-rising-by-tracy-deebs.html

“Among the recent spate of mermaid books this easily stands as the darkest ... an exciting story ... which many young readers will love.” – Kirkus Reviews

And remember, if you're planning to buy Tempest Rising, remember that you have until Wednesday to show me proof of purchase to be entered for a $75 gift card to the online bookstore of your choice :)

Have a great week!

A Tempest Rising Preview

2011-05-04T06:57:00.000-05:00

With the release of Tempest Rising only a few days away (yay!!!!) I thought I'd post another preview of the book. And don't forget to check out the contest I'm running over at http://www.tracy-deebs.blogspot.com/ in order to win a $75 giftcard to the online bookseller of your choice.

Up in the sky a full moon the color of a pure, sweet tropical pearl cast a glow over the trees, the only light besides the lone street lamp at the end of the cul-de-sac. For a moment, I felt like the only person on earth.

Crossing the street, I ignored the gravel and small rocks that bit into my toes and heels until I could sink my feet into the blessed relief of cold, winter sand.

I walked along the beach for a long time—right where the tide met the sand--unaware of time passing as the water tickled my toes. I played tag with the waves, tried to avoid the never-ending cycle of tides as they rolled in. I lost more times than I won.

I didn’t have any firm destination in mind as I walked, but when I ended up a mile or so down the beach at my thinking rock, I wasn’t surprised. I’d been coming here for six years, whenever life got to be too much for me and, geez, did this week ever qualify as too much.

I climbed the craggy rock swiftly, my hands and feet finding familiar footholds in the rough crevices. Though I was fast, I was also careful—my legs and hips, even the back of my right hand bore numerous scars from the mistakes I’d made while climbing here in the past.

The ocean seethed in a crazed cacophony while I settled myself at the top of the rock, a perfect reflection of my mood as I looked out over the water I both loved and despised, praying for just a little bit of the peace I usually got when I was out here alone.

But there was no peace tonight. How could there be? The ocean throbbed and pulsed while the very air itself crackled with electricity.

I gazed out over the waves as I searched my very limited knowledge-base trying to figure out how the hell to get out of the mess I was currently in. Things were happening so quickly that I couldn’t find a way to stop them.

I didn’t know how to stop them.

“No!” I screamed so loudly that my throat hurt. “No, no, no!” Again and again until my voice was hoarse and my throat raw.

The ocean seemed to pulse in and out in time with my screams and I watched, fascinated, as wave after wave pounded the shore—each one bigger and harder than the one before.

It was great surfing weather. Dangerous, sure, if you didn’t know what you were doing, but good nonetheless. For a minute, I longed for my board, the call of the ocean so strong that it was painful.

You don’t need a board. The thought slipped in slyly. You’re a strong swimmer. Go on out there and see what you’re really made of.

Overhead, lightning crackled, was followed closely by a burst of thunder that shook my rock and the ground beneath it.

Go ahead, the little voice at the back of my head whispered again. You know you want to.

And I did want to, so badly that I could almost taste it. That was the kicker in all of this—a part of me longed to give myself over to the violent water, a part that was getting harder and harder to deny.

What would it hurt? the voice urged. A midnight swim, a chance to—

I was off the rock before I knew what I was doing, heading towards the ocean with a single-minded purpose I couldn’t imagine denying.

My gills ached. My lungs burned, blistered. My skin stung, itched, like a thousand wasps had gotten to me.

Yes, go. The voice was louder now, more insistent. Triumphant even. And I gave myself to it. Let it pull me to where I wanted to be anyway.

I walked a few steps closer to the water, the sand squishing beneath my toes.

You belong there. You need to be in the water, to feel it around you. Beneath you.

The water lapped at my ankles, my calves. I took another step, then another. Felt it on my knees, my thighs. The cold sting of it penetrated my near trance-like state and I stopped, confused.

Just a little more, a few more steps. The voice was clearer now—ringing in my head, in my ears. Flowing through me until it was a drumbeat in my blood. Until it was all I could think about. All I could feel.

I took another step. Then another and another and another. The water was around my chest now and I was only going deep enough to—

“No!” Another voice, fainter and more frantic than the first. “Tempest, stop!”

Ignore him, said the first voice. You’ve wasted enough time. Come to me. Come to your home.

Have a great Wednesday!!!!

Big Giveaway at my Tracy Deebs blog :)

2011-05-02T10:07:00.000-05:00

Hi Everyone :) I'm just back from a quick trip to Salem, MA for the New England RWA conference (yes, I really am everywhere this year). Anyway, it's nine days until Tempest Rising releases-- can you believe it? I'm so, so, so excited! Anyway, in honor of Tempest Rising, I'm giving away a $75 giftcard to the online bookseller of your choice, along with other cool prizes. Check out my blog: http://www.tracy-deebs.blogspot.com/ to find out how to enter :)

I'll be back tomorrow, I promise, with fun tidbits about my trip to Salem-- what a great place for a writer to visit!

The Winner of the RT Basket is ...

2011-05-02T10:03:00.002-05:00

PamK :) Congrats!!!! Contact me at tracy@tracywolff.com with your snailmail and I'll get it out to you ASAP.

I'm Back from TLA ...

2011-04-14T15:15:00.001-05:00

I've been at TLA the last couple of days (Texas Library Association's Annual Conference) and it has been so much fun. I got to see all the publishers hawking books for the next year and got some great recommendations and free books for kidlet #1 who is a voracious reader. I got to hang with some of my new YA pals from RT, and listen to some of them speak. Plus I got to meet the marketing/publicity reps from Bloomsbury, my Tempest Rising Publisher, as they were passing out ARCs of my book.

Today was teen day, so hundreds of teenagers, maybe thousands, were there today and it was so much fun to talk to them. I met a group of girls from one of the high schools in my area (just as they were picking out ARCs of Tempest, LOL) and they were awesome-- so excited to be there and get free books. It does my writer/teacher heart good to see so many teenagers enthusiastic about reading.

In other news, I'm blogging over at http://www.sizzlinghotbooks.net/ today about some of my favorite books from the last couple of months. Stop on by if you get a chance :) Happy Thursday!

Excerpt from Deserving of Luke

2011-04-13T09:29:00.000-05:00

Since I didn't post an excerpt yesterday when Deserving of Luke hit the shelves, I thought I'd do it today. Hope you enjoy!

As he looked over Paige's son, Logan felt his entire body tensing, readying itself for battle even as he told himself that it couldn't be. That he had to be mistaken. That Paige wouldn't have his child without telling him.

The words circled his brain over and over again, a particularly ineffectual mantra. Because even as he was talking to himself, even as he was trying to convince himself that he was wrong, that he was making a huge mistake, he knew that he wasn't. This child-- this handsome, lively eight year old boy with the silver eyes and small birthmark on his right cheek-- was his son and he didn't even know the kid's name.

The realization was a blow that nearly brought him to his knees. Shock and sorrow warred within him, followed by the beginnings of a rage so powerful it made him shake.

His child had existed in the world for eight years and he hadn't known.

His child had grown and laughed, hurt and played, for eight years and he hadn't known.

His child had--

"Hello, Logan."

He turned dazed, furious eyes back to Paige. "Why didn't you tell me?" He didn't bother with pleasantries, didn't even try to hold back the question that was burning inside of him.

She raised one cool, blond eyebrow, smiled serenely as if the same meeting that had just blown his world to hell and back had barely affected her.

"I did tell you. You just chose not to believe me."

That was it. No explanation, no plea for forgiveness, no acknowledgement of guilt. Just eleven words that did nothing to lower his blood pressure.

"You know that's a bunch of bull--"

"No milkshake today." She cut him off in mid-sentence, which was probably a good thing considering the word he'd been about to say, turned to her son, their son, and said, "We'll get one next time. We need to get back soon or Aunt Penny's going to send the cavalry after us."
The boy rolled his eyes. "There's no cavalry anymore, Mom. Now the army uses tanks."

"That's a good point-- and even more of a reason for us to head home. Can you imagine a tank rolling down Main Street?"

"That'd be cool! Do you think it would point its big gun at the diner?"

"I can only hope." With that cryptic comment, Paige stood, not even bothering to wait for the check. Instead, she dropped some money on the table and began herding her child toward the door.

She'd almost made it to the front of the diner before he regained the power of thought. Of speech. "What's his name?" he demanded, loud enough for the whole damn restaurant to hear. Not that he cared. Worrying about what others thought seemed worse than stupid when he was watching his child walking away from him without a backwards glance.

She turned then, and for the first time he realized she was fairly vibrating with the same anger that was whipping through his own system. "None of your damn business."

And then she was gone, leaving behind a silence so complete that the slamming of the door echoed like a gunshot.

I'm at TLA in downtown Austin today, so if there are any librarians out there, look for me in the Walker booth. I'll be giving away ARCs of Tempest Rising! Have a great day, everyone! And don't forget to comment for chances to win the RT basket I've put together :)

Lots of Stuff!

2011-04-12T11:10:00.002-05:00

I've got a bunch of stuff going on today, so thought I'd give you a quick heads up. Deserving of Luke, my April Superromance, hits shelves today! Yay! To celebrate, I'm blogging over at http://www.superauthors.com/ and giving away a copy of Hidden Embers and Deserving of Luke. There are also some great pictures of me and friends from RT over there, so stop by and check it out!

Also, I just started a new Facebook page for the Dragon's Heat series (lots of requests for this at RT this year so I finally gave in). I'm running a contest through Friday for you to win autographed copies of both Dark Embers and Hidden Embers, and all you have to do is like the page-- the link is in the Love Musings sidebar. Please don't leave me hanging :(

Whee! Hidden Embers is spotlight of the week over at Romantic Times: http://tinyurl.com/2ubq743

Here's a link to an awesome review of Hidden Embers-- I thought you guys might like to see it. Stop by and check it out-- and don't forget to enter the contest! http://tinyurl.com/6f7tkne

Have a great Tuesday! And don't forget to comment for an extra chance to win the bag of RT books and goodies!!!!

Giving Away Hidden Embers Today!

2011-04-11T14:25:00.002-05:00

I'm blogging a couple of places today-- giving away Dark Embers at http://www.lovlivlifereviews.com/ and Hidden Embers at http://www.lovinmesomeromance.com/ Stop by and comment for the chance to win :)

I'm Back from RT with a Cool Giveaway :)

2011-04-11T09:33:00.000-05:00

Hi Everyone :)

I'm back from RT and thrilled to be home. But I have to tell you, the conference was so much fun :) It was great to hang out with all my writing pals without the pressure and constant meetings that come with RWA. Plus, I got to see my mom, who lives in L.A. and my closest friend from high school, who drove up from San Diego to spend Friday with me :) And I did some really fun school visits to pimp Tempest and IKC. And I got to meet a bunch of my fans, which was the most fun of the whole conference. Not bad, huh?

If you want to see what I got up to in L.A., stop back later this week to see some of the great pictures I got (well really, pictures Beth Kery got that she'll be emailing to me as I'm terrible about taking photos). In the meantime, I picked up a bunch of fun books from authors that we all know and love, so leave me a comment telling me about something cool that you did last week and you'll be entered to win a basket filled with RT goodies. The contest is open all week, so make sure to comment each day for extra chances to win!!!!

I'm Giving Away a $100 gift card to Amazon

2011-04-05T12:22:00.000-05:00

Hidden Embers releases today! In it's honor, I'm throwing a release day party over at Bitten By Books and giving away a bunch of books and a $100 gift card to Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/3dazh5x
Come comment for a chance to win :) Happy Tuesday!!!!!

Going to RT Convention

2011-04-04T04:51:00.000-05:00

Hi Everyone!

Just wanted to let you know that I'll be heading to RT in a couple of hours, so I probably won't be around much this week. Still, check out the different blogs I'm on this week to catch up to me-- I'm celebrating the release of Hidden Embers this Tuesday!!!!! Stop by for a chance to win more books :)

All About Urban Fantasy-- Monday

Bitten By Books Release Party for Hidden Embers-- Tuesday (I'm giving away a $100 gift certificate and a bunch of books, so stop by!!!!)

Book of Secrets-- Wednesday

Intense Whisper-- Thursday

Tawny Weber's Blog-- Friday

Borders True Romance-- Saturday

Have a fabulous week!!!!!!

Winner of Tempest Rising

2011-04-04T04:42:00.002-05:00

Bec is the winner of the Tempest Rising ARC, so drop me a snail mail at tracy@tracywolff.com and I'll get it in the mail to you.

My Last Tempest Rising ARC

2011-04-02T08:35:00.000-05:00

Okay, everyone, I'm super-excited about this weekend's giveaway. I have one ARC for Tempest Rising, my May mermaid YA (wow, say that 10 times fast) and am thrilled to be giving a copy of it away this weekend. I've been pretty stingy with them, so this is your last opportunity to see Tempest before it hits the shelves ;)

Here's the blurb:

Tempest Maguire wants nothing more than to surf the killer waves near her California home; continue her steady relationship with her boyfriend, Mark; and take care of her brothers and surfer dad. But Tempest is half mermaid, and as her seventeenth birthday approaches, she will have to decide whether to remain on land or give herself to the ocean like her mother. The pull of the water becomes as insistent as her attraction to Kai, a gorgeous surfer whose uncanny abilities hint at an otherworldly identity as well. And when Tempest does finally give in to the water's temptation and enters a fantastical underwater world, she finds that a larger destiny awaits her—and that the entire ocean's future hangs in the balance.

And here's a quick excerpt:

“Are you ready?”

The words hung in the air between us—trapped—and it was like he could see inside of me. Like he knew so much more than I did about … everything.

“Ummm—“ Did I mention that I’m not the most articulate person at the best of times and under pressure, my words dry up as completely as the desert during a sandstorm?

“Of course she’s ready.” Mark wrapped an arm around my shoulder, bringing me against his body, and for one irrational second I felt like a bone being pulled in different directions by two slavering, growling dogs. Except both of these guys still had smiles on their faces. “Right, Tempest?”

“Yeah, of course.” I gave him the answer he wanted, but it was just another discernible lie. I wasn’t ready to go into the ocean again, not with Kona watching every move I made. But Mark couldn’t see inside my head and as he pulled me towards the water, pain ricocheted down my arms.

Again, I wondered at the differing sensations. Pain from Mark, the guy I was pretty sure I loved and who I felt secure around. Pleasure from Kona, the guy I didn’t know how to respond to and who I certainly didn’t trust.

Mark propelled me down the beach, until the surf danced around my ankles and licked at me like a hundred tongues of fire. Something was coming, it seemed to tell me as it burned where it normally soothed. Something big, and I couldn’t hide from it anymore.

As if I ever had been able to.

We started paddling out, and within seconds Mark was ahead of me, his whipcord lean body stretched out over his board like an offering to the surf gods. Normally I would be right there with him, pushing into the water-- desperate for the next big wave—but instead I hung back, hesitant to push off with Kona so close.

I expected Kona to take off with Mark, but he stayed beside me, content to move with the ebb and flow of the waves instead of cutting his own way through them.

“What are you doing?” I hissed, when I was sure Mark was out of earshot.

“What do you mean?” He paddled closer until his board was nearly touching mine. It was a deliberate attempt at crowding and one I would normally have called anyone on, but today—with him—I let it go. I had more important things to worry about.

“Come on. You didn’t just show up at this beach accidentally. You came for a reason.”

“And what reason would that be, sweet Tempest?” He lifted one eyebrow in a way I found ridiculously hot.

“That’s what I’m asking you!”

“That doesn’t seem right.” An unexpected swell came up, had both of us clutching our boards to keep from grubbing. “If you’re going to assign dark intentions to me, I think you should be brave enough to admit to them.”

“Can’t you just once answer a question without dodging around it eighteen different ways?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“See what I mean?” I glanced away from him, watched as the wave began to set up. Panic, cold and clammy, raced down my spine as images of tumbling beneath the water bombarded me from all sides. “You never just tell the truth.”

He studied me and for once there was no humor in his expression. “That’s an interesting complaing coming from you, Tempest. Besides, the truth is a nebulous thing. If you get too much too quickly, it feels like the top of your head is blowing off.”

“It feels like that already.” I braced myself, prepared to push up.

“It’s only going to get worse.” He flexed his biceps and I realized that his tattoos looked like they were glowing, just as they had the first time I met him.

The observation had my stomach cramping up. “What does that mean?”

“What do you want it to mean?”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?

“Talking in circles.”

His smile was wicked hot when he answered, his eyes pure silver, sexy and bottomless. “You want direct?” At my nod, he continued. “You’d better pay attention or it’ll be my turn to fish you out from the deep.”

“What—“

But he was already up, and I scrambled to follow suit before I got rolled. As the wave crested, I managed to stay on my board—barely—but it wasn’t my most successful ride, by any means. I was too busy watching Kona ride the wave like he was born to do it.

Who was he, I wondered for at least the millionth time.

Friend or foe?

Mermaid or human … or something else entirely?

And perhaps most importantly, what did he want from me?

So, to be entered to win Tempest, tell me the name of one book you've read recently that you really, really liked. I just read a YA called The Sky is Everywhere and it was absolutely brilliant.

Winner of Forbidden Embers ARC

2011-04-02T08:25:00.000-05:00

Kidlet #3 picked #1 out of the hat, so the winner of the Forbidden Embers ARC is Richard! Email me at tracy@tracywolff.com with your snail mail and I'll get it in the mail for you today. Thanks, everyone, for your great comments!

My Crazy April!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2011-04-01T12:47:00.001-05:00

Hi Everyone,

First of all, make sure to check back tomorrow to see who wins an ARC of Forbidden Embers-- and to check the weekend giveaway. It's a good one, I promise!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm kicking off a month long tour to celebrate the release of Hidden Embers and will be giving away all kinds of good stuff, so make sure to stop by regularly and see where I'm at and what I'm blogging about. And Tuesday, April 5th (release day--yay!) bittenbybooks.com is throwing me a release party. I'll be giving away lots of books and a couple other prizes, so make sure you stop by and say hello :)

So, with no further ado, this is where you can catch me in April:

Monday, 4/4-Sunday 4/10: Romantic Times Convention in Los Angeles-- come see me if you're in the area. I'll be signing Hidden Embers and Deserving of Luke and giving away a bunch of fun stuff!

Tuesday, 4/12-Friday 4/15 Texas Library Conference, Austin, Texas, Walker Books Booth-- Simone Elkeles (Perfect Chemistry and Rules of Attraction) will be there with me, so if you get a chance, come see us :)

Friday, 4/22: Popular Culture Association Conference in San Antonio-- On a romance panel with Louisa Edwards, Sherry Thomas and Skylar White

Saturday, 4/23: Speaker at DARA RWA Chapter Meeting, Dallas, Texas

Friday 4/29-4/30: New England RWA Conference, Salem, Massachussetts

Monday, 4/4: All Things Urban Fantasy
Tuesday, 4/5: Bitten By Books Release Party
Wednesday 4/6: Book Of Secrets Interview
Thursday, 4/7: Intense Whisper
Friday, 4/8: Tawny Weber Blog
Saturday 4/9: Borders True Romance blog
Monday 4/11: Lovlivlife Blog and Lovin Me Some Romance
Tuesday, 4/12: Superromance Authors Blog
Wednesday, 4/13: Yummy Men and Kick Ass Chicks Blog
Thursday, 4/14: Silzzling Hot Books Blog
Friday, 4/15: Wicked Lil Pixie Blog
Monday, 4/18: RRT blog and Reading with Tequila
Tuesday, 4/19: Vampire Book Club blog
Wednesday, 4/20: Paperback Dolls blog
Friday, 4/22: Jaunty Quills, Murder She Writes and Fresh Fiction
Tuesday, 4/26: Pink Heart Society Blog
Wednesday, 4/27: Book Binge and Once Upon a Twilight

Sound crazy enough to you? It'll be fun and there will be lots of great prizes, so make sure to check back regularly! Happy Friday :)

Win an ARC of Forbidden Embers

2011-03-31T08:18:00.000-05:00

I found out last week that there are going to be lots more dragon books (I'm signing a contract for three more plus an especial short story) and I couldn't be more thrilled :) So, with this news in the forefront, I can't think of a better time to do the cover reveal on Forbidden Embers!!!! I'm so excited by it and can't wait to hear what you think. This is Logan's story and it was so much fun to write, especially as he falls in love with Cecily, a Wyvernmoon and his sworn enemy. Here's the blurb:

The Dragonstar clan is under attack, endangered by an insidious enemy. Now a top sentry must go undercover, but the task will be more than he bargained for…

Desperate to save his clan from deadly biological warfare, Dragonstar sentry Logan Kelly must infiltrate the Wyvermoon clan—and put an end to the war. Posing as a rogue dragon without a clan, Logan quickly realizes how close the Wyvermoons are to anarchy since the death of their leader. Their ranks are thin, and their only hope lies in Cecily Fournier, the princess whose grasp on the throne is shaky at best. All he has to do is stick around long enough to see his enemies fail.

The plan is foolproof. Until he falls for Cecily.

What starts as an uneasy alliance turns into an uncontrollable passion. As the spark between them gets hotter, Logan discovers the Wyvermoon’s hidden agenda. But how can he bring down the Wyvermoons without exposing himself as a traitor to the woman he loves?

And here's an excerpt:
Cecily was running full out, but she could hear Logan gaining on her. He’d given her a ten-second head start, which she’d used to her advantage, but she had a feeling in a couple seconds any progress she’d made was going to be moot. Sure enough, she had barely taken another step when she felt his warm breath on the back of her neck.

Not willing to give in so easily, she didn’t bother to waste precious seconds looking back. Instead, she ran another few yards, waiting for him to pass her. He did, and a few seconds after that, she veered off the main path onto a shortcut she often took. By the time he figured out what had happened, she’d be almost to the lake.

When she ran the rest of the way without pursuit, she figured she was right, and by the time she came out of the trees right next to the waterfall, she was feeling pretty smug. At least until she glanced across the lake and saw Logan sunning himself on a large, flat rock.

“Hey!” she exclaimed. “How’d you get here so fast?” She knew he was faster than she was, but her shortcut had shaved at least four minutes off her time. There was no way he was fast enough to have beat that.

He just wiggled his eyebrows and pretended to twirl a fake mustache. “I have my ways.”

“You cheated!”

“That sounds like the pot calling the kettle black,” he said with a laugh. “Where did you go, anyway?”

“This is my mountain. I know all the shortcuts.”

“Maybe not all of them.”

She considered that. “Maybe not.”

He’d circled the small lake as they talked so that he was standing only a few feet away from her by the time she conceded defeat. He was still naked and more aroused than ever. She couldn’t help looking her fill, but then what red-blooded woman would blame her? Even with the scar on his cheek, the man was as close to perfect as she had ever seen.

He interrupted her perusal to ask, “So, do you like what you see?”

“Don’t even go there. You know exactly how good-looking you are. There’s no way I’m going to pander to your swollen ego.”

“There’s only one thing about me that’s swollen right now, and I was kind of hoping you would pander to it.”

“Seriously?” she asked. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“Hey, cut a guy some slack. All the blood in my brain has drained about three and a half feet south.”

She pretended to think over his dilemma. “I can see where that might be a problem.”

“It is a problem. A big problem.”

“Looks more medium-sized to me, but, then again, my whole life I’ve been told my standards are too exacting.”

“Hey! That’s not very nice.”

“I’m sorry. I thought you wanted honesty.” She hid a grin.

His eyes narrowed as he started toward her. “You’re going to pay for that.”

She retreated quickly, but within seconds he had her cornered between his big body and the lake. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” She held up a hand. “I was just joking.”

“That didn’t sound very sincere.”

“It’s hard to sound sincere when you’re threatening to toss me in an ice cold lake! Besides, it’s not like you could possibly be insecure in that area.”

“No, but it’s nice to hear that occasionally.” He stepped closer.

“Hey, what are you doing? I already admitted I was wrong.”

“Yeah, but I thought we’d already established that I don’t play fair.”

“Logan, no!” She backed up right to the edge of the rocks. “The water’s freezing right now.”

“Then I hope you’re a fast swimmer.” He moved to grab her, and she feinted left before moving right. But he was ready for her, and within seconds she found herself cradled in his arms.

He started to swing her. “One, two, three.”

“No!” She grabbed onto his neck, determined to take him with her, but he stopped just shy of dangling her out over the water. She looked at him curiously.

He winked. “You didn’t think I was actually going to throw you in, did you?”

“Of course I did!”

“I wouldn’t do that to a lady.”

“Oh, well, thank you, then. I appreciate that.” She loosened her arms from where she’d been clutching on to him, feeling strangely disappointed that he hadn’t carried through with the threat. Which was stupid, considering how cold the water was around here in October. But after the intensity of the last half an hour, she’d really been enjoying this playful side of him.

But the second her arms released his neck completely, she was soaring through the air, straight at the deepest part of the lake.

She had a second to process the shock of being double-crossed, and then she was shifting. By the time her toes touched the water, she was dragon, and she used her wings to propel her straight back into the air before she got more than her ankles damp.

She landed right next to him, back in human form, a superior smile on her face. Logan gaped at her in shock, and she couldn’t resist rubbing it. “Nice try, Slick.” She reached out and playfully punched his shoulder. “Let me know when you’re ready to play with the big girls.”

“Believe me, I’m ready.” He grabbed her arm and gave it one, sharp tug. She tumbled against his chest, which was exactly what he’d intended. “How did you do that?”

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I’ve always been able to do it. It’s a gift.”

“I’ll say. I like it.”

“That’s what all the guys say.”

He growled, low and deep. “What guys?”

She laughed, spun around in a quick, delighted circle. How had she gone through her whole life without realizing how much fun it was to tease and play? Now that she’d discovered it, she had no desire to ever go back to the joyless existence she’d been living for so long.

“Chill out, Logan. I was joking. God, you’re easy.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I’m incredibly easy.” He paused. “Speaking of which, are you going to take advantage of my easiness anytime soon?”

“I already tried that. You ran away like a scared little girl.”

“I promise to do better this time.”

“I don’t know. You look pretty wimpy. I’m not sure you could handle me.”

It was his turn to laugh. “Try me.”

She pretended to think about it. “I’ll tell you what. I will have my wicked, wicked, wicked way with you if you put your money where your mouth is.”

His eyes darkened, and when he spoke, he sounded like he’d swallowed about ten pounds of gravel. “What do I have to do?”

“I thought that was obvious. You’ve got to catch me.”

She shifted in an instant, then launched herself straight into the sky.

So, what do you think of Logan and Cecily? Their cover? They're very different than Pheobe and Dylan or Quinn and Jasmine, but I love them anyway. Leave a comment to be entered to win an ARC of Forbidden Embers-- it will be a few weeks before I have one of these, but as soon as I get them, I promise the winner will be the first to get their hands on it.

Winners!!!

2011-03-31T08:01:00.000-05:00

Yay, ladies, thanks so much for all the wonderful comments you left :) The winner of Deserving of Luke is Blanche, and the winner of Hidden Embers is Cecile Smutty Hussy (You can thank my six year old, ladies, for pulling your numbers this morning :) Drop me an email at tracy@tracywolff.com with your snail mail addys and I'll get them in the mail tomorrow.

If you didn't win, don't despair-- I'm giving away at least one book a day between now and release day (Tuesday, April 5th) so stop by and check for the book of the day.

Win A Copy of Hidden Embers!!!

2011-03-29T23:22:00.000-05:00

There are exactly seven days until Hidden Embers (Quinn's story and Book Two in the Dragon's Heat series) hits the shelves, and to celebrate its relese (and the fact that I now have my author copies) I'm giving away an autographed copy today. Just leave a comment below and be entered to win :)

Oh, and just a heads up, but on Tuesday, April 5th (release day) Bitten By Books is throwing me a release party!!!! I'll be giving away a bunch of books and a grand prize, so make sure to check it out!!!!

Here's the blurb:

Deep in the New Mexico desert there is a secret race on the brink of extinction—the pure-blood shapeshifters of the Dragonstar clan. And they have one last, desperate hope for survival…

Quinn Maguire is a powerful Dragonstar healer at a tragic loss, unable to cure the insidious disease killing off his people. Yet even in such dire circumstances the conservative Quinn is secretly disapproving of the alternative: Dr. Jasmine Kane, enlisted by the head of the Dragonstar clan to help abort the virus. She is a wild card. She is an outsider. She is human.

Decked out in black leather and a tough attitude, Jasmine clashes with Quinn in more ways than one. And when destiny chooses her for his Mate, he doesn't know whether to rejoice or rebel. Because while Jasmine makes him burn hotter than any woman--dragon or human-- ever has, their differences make a relationship impossible.

But when a rival infiltrates the clan and attacks Jasmine, Quinn becomes desperate. Jasmine is now the first human to be infected with the disease—and Quinn must do everything he can to find a cure, and save the woman he has grown to love.

And here's an excerpt:

Phoebe reached out a hand to touch him—to soothe him—but he shrugged her off. Arguing he could handle. Sympathy would only make him lose control faster. Already he could feel the rage and pain eating away at his control. He struggled to keep it together, just a little bit longer. It’s not you I don’t trust,” he said in a voice that was way too close to a growl. “And you can’t possibly promise that. Besides, if she’s as brilliant as you say she is, how is she available to do this for us?”

“She was injured during her last assignment. Badly enough that she was flown back to the States and has had four operations in the last nine weeks. She’s better now—or so she says, but still on medical leave.”

Quinn absorbed what Phoebe was saying—and what she wasn’t—then glanced over at Michael’s body before he could stop himself. The last of his anger drained away when he looked at his baby brother, and was replaced by the devastation that seemed to be his constant companion these days.

It was hard to believe that his baby brother was gone, that Michael was gone. He would never crack another joke, never break another heart, never charge blindly into danger simply because he liked a good fight. He was dead—just like their parents, just like their other brothers. All killed in the fight against the Wyvernmoons. Though Michael was the only one who’d been victim to the virus— all the others had died in combat, even his mother who had been trying to heal Dylan’s brother when the Wyvernmoons got her—his death was no less of an attack.

The Wyvernmoons had finally succeeded in wiping out his entire family. There was no one left. Quinn was suddenly, completely, and absolutely alone in the world.

Sadness swamped him. He tried to throw it off, tried to get back to the wrath that was the only thing that had kept him going for far too long. Anger was so much easier to deal with than the despair that threatened to swallow him whole.

“Come on, Quinn.” Dylan’s hand fell on his shoulder, almost as if the other man could see the shift in his feelings. “Come back home with me and Phoebe tonight.”

“Why?” He reached out a hand, ran it over Michael’s hair. Part of him expected his brother to wake up, to pop off with some comment that was as irreverent as it was accurate. Twenty-four hours before they’d been having dinner together, swigging down beer while Quinn teased Michael about his sudden interest in Caitlyn, one of Dylan’s female sentries.

Now he was dead—because Quinn hadn’t been smart enough or fast enough to save him.

“Because you look like hell,” Dylan said with his trademark bluntness. Phoebe gasped and tried to elbow him, but he pulled his mate into his arms before she could do any real damage—not that she was really trying to.

“What Dylan means, Quinn, is that we’re worried about you.”

“Don’t be. I’m fine.” He pulled the sheet over Michael’s head and tried not to remember all the games of peek-a-boo they’d played when his brother was a toddler. His brother had been nearly thirty years younger than Quinn and the responsibility for taking care of him had often fallen on Quinn’s shoulders.

Those shoulders slumped now, the weight of everything that had happened in the past year abruptly too much for him to handle. But he couldn’t lose it yet, he told himself. Not here, in front of Dylan and Phoebe, who were already looking at him as if he would blow a gasket at any moment—or rip a helpless bystander to pieces with his talons.

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’m going to head home. I’m tired and I want to be alone.”

“That’s a crappy idea and you know it. Come back with us. A bunch of the others will be there, and you’ll be safe.”

“No one’s safe, Dylan. Haven’t you figured that out yet? This fucking disease is everywhere, and until we figure out how the hell to get at it, no one is ever going to be safe.”

The hand on his shoulder grew heavier, and his best friend’s face more alarmed, but Quinn just didn’t have it in him to care anymore. He shrugged Dylan off and headed for the door at close to a run. “Thanks for your help, Phoebe. Tell the nurses I’ll make arrangements for Michael’s body tomorrow.”

“I can—“

“I’ll do it. He’s my brother.”

And then he was out of there, his long legs eating up the winding stretch of hallway that led to the front door of the clinic. His clinic. He’d built it from the ground up fifty years before, after spending centuries working to heal the sick and injured members of his clan. Lately, it seemed that the only time he spent there was with someone in the last stages of this damn disease—most of his time was spent at the lab sorting through notes and blood samples and journal articles, searching for a way to end this thing.

Too bad he didn’t have anything to show for all that time away.

Slamming through the clinic doors as if the hounds of hell were after him, Quinn turned himself over to the night.

To the desert.

To the change that had already begun.

The streets of the sleepy little New Mexico town they inhabited were empty, but it wouldn’t have mattered if they weren’t. Nearly everyone in the town was a member of the Dragonstar clan and shifting was as natural as breathing to them.

As the cool night air brushed against his overheated skin, he stripped out of his clothes, then shoved them into the small pouch he was never without just as his talons burst through the ends of his fingers. He tied it clumsily around his neck, nicking himself with his claws as he did so.

He secured the knot moments before his human side lost the last vestiges of control.

His bones cracked, rearranged themselves and his wings ripped through the muscles of his back. His skin cooled rapidly, slicked over, as fire burned along his nerve endings. It kindled a flame deep inside of him and for long moments, the agony—and ecstasy—of the change ruled him.

When it was done—when he was dragon—he launched himself straight into the air. And then he flew.

Cloaked in the invisibility every member of his race was gifted with, Quinn spun and whirled through the air. He climbed high, then shot straight down toward the ground, pulling up only at the last possible second. Did it again and again as he flew through hundreds, thousands of miles of darkness, his speed rivaling a fighter jet’s. His only thoughts of escape and freedom and fire.

The headlong rush away-- from death, from failure, from himself—went on for hours. Through night, into day and back again. He soared over the beautifully barren deserts of New Mexico and West Texas, cruised over the cement jungles of Dallas and Houston before heading towards the verdant lushness of Louisiana’s bayous. From there, he flew high above the wide, muddy banks of the swollen Mississippi, following it for hours before circling back towards the southwestern deserts that echoed with the same loneliness he felt inside himself.

When he finally returned to his senses, Quinn forced himself to land—he needed food and sleep-- and the pain began all over again.

The shift from dragon to man happened much more quickly than the reverse, but it was just as painful. His talons retracted at the same time his wings did and then he was shrinking, his bones cracking, reforming, knitting seamlessly together. His skin was the last to change, going from green and scaly to smooth and tanned, and within a couple minutes Quinn was dressed and walking down an almost deserted street in search of distraction. He found it in the guise of a large, dilapidated bar standing in the middle of a large parking lot at the end of the street. The half-lit sign above the door proclaimed that he was entering The Lone Star, which meant he was somewhere in Texas and almost home after the flight that had taken him more than halfway across the country.

But where in Texas was anyone’s guess. Navigation had been the last thing on his mind when he was flying and now that he’d landed, the truth was he really didn’t give a damn. He liked the anonymity of not knowing where he was or when he would leave, liked that there were no rules, no responsibilities, no regrets. At least not here. Not now.

Slipping silently into the bar, Quinn did something he hadn’t done in at least three hundred years.

He very deliberately went looking for trouble.

So, that's a pretty good look at bad boy, Quinn. What do you think?

I Forgot to Post ...

2011-03-29T21:07:00.001-05:00

That I'm guest blogging over at http://www.myoverstuffedbookshelf.blogspot.com/ Stop by and comment for a chance to win Dark Embers. And check back on Wednesday for a chance to win a copy of Hidden Embers!!!!!

The Joy of Raising Boys

2011-03-28T09:33:00.000-05:00

I'm blogging about my new Superromance, Deserving of Luke, over at http://www.superauthors.com/ today, and wrote the post about the joy of raising boys-- as you know, I have three ;) Anyway, I thought it was a cute enough post that I decided to post it over here as well. And I'll offer you the same deal I'm offering over there-- leave a comment to be entered to win a copy of Deserving of Luke two weeks before it hits the shelves. So with no further ado ...

Most people who read my Superromances figure out pretty quickly that I love writing boys. Unless the children I write are babies, I always make them male. The reason for this is simple-- I have nothing against girls. I love them, but the fact of the matter is, I know nothing about raising girls. Boys, however, I'm finally beginning to think I know what I'm doing when it comes to them. I have three, after all, and while raising daughters might be a joy, raising boys is a riot (often terrifying, but always a riot).

A day doesn’t go by when one of them doesn’t make me laugh at something or other. My oldest is fourteen, and while we are dealing with the inevitable mouth that comes with an eighth grader trying to flex his independent muscles, I am also so grateful to the universe for giving this child to me. He was the baby I had when I was little more than a baby myself—twenty-one, newly married, in graduate school, he turned my life upside down and I’m so very glad he did. Not to imply that he’s been easy to take care of, because he hasn’t been—not by a longshot.

By the time he was one, he was piling his large toys next to the front door of our second floor apartment, then scaling the pile to wrestle the chain off the door. You see, the pool was right outside and for months I lived in fear of him executing a perfect swan dive off the walkway into the pool and certain death. Of course, this is also the child who only had one speed—hell-bent for leather, the child who dropped my cell phone in the toilet because he wanted to know what it would do and who, by three, had managed to take apart every piece of electronic or mechanical equipment (from the coffeepot to the computer) that we had in the house, just to see how they worked.

He taught me to grow up, taught me what it is to really laugh at myself and what it is to selflessly, completely love another human being. He also taught me patience  My oldest is sweet and funny and adorable and always has a quip (usually sarcastic—wonder where he got that from) to make me laugh.

My middle son, well, he is my challenge. I spent years running after my oldest son so that by the time the middle one came along six and a half years later, my husband and I were exhausted. Or so we thought. From the minute my middle son came into the world, we learned what exhaustion really was. Impatient to this day, this one decided that he wasn’t going to wait around for anything as mundane as his due date—instead, he joined the world seven and a half weeks early and threw my entire life into a tizzy. And while we were blessed with a very healthy baby considering the circumstances, we had to learn a lot quickly with him. From the very beginning, middle kidlet wanted things his own way. He wouldn’t eat unless I held him a certain, specific way, would cry if his blanket wasn’t arranged exactly how he liked it, would scream if we didn’t soothe him in the exact way he wanted. I should have known, at the time, that we were in for a handful (because, oh boy, is he a handful even to this day). At two weeks, he stopped breathing and my husband had to do CPR. Until the day we die, I will never forget what it felt like to stand by helplessly, 911 on the phone, while my husband breathed for my child.

At three, middle kidlet entered his oral phase right when other people’s kids were growing out of it. This is the time he started putting everything into his mouth, and I do mean everything. No matter how careful I was (and it got to the point that I was paranoid) he would find something to try to poison himself with. Tide at the bottom of the laundry cup, Advil (safety lid? Safety locked cabinets? What are these silly impediments you speak of—this one has never met a lock he couldn’t pick or a safety device he couldn’t release—which speaks well for his future career as a criminal, my husband always says), cough syrup, Hot wheels cars, a penny, his brother’s fish. It didn’t matter. If it was the right size (and sometimes even if it wasn’t) it was going in his mouth

As for what this one has taught me … Well, besides the fact that there are a number of household substances and medicines that are nowhere near as poisonous as we believe they are (thank you Poison Control Center), my middle son has really taught me patience (I only thought number one had), the importance of perseverance and the beauty in small things (this is the one who always has a rock or a shell or a flower or a leaf or a lizard or a sunset to show me. Even at seven, he is my artist and my write, not to mention King of the metaphor, and a day doesn’t go by that he doesn’t make me look at the world in a little different way.

And then we come to raising kidlet number three. Sigh. I don’t even know where to begin, but I guess the fact that we call him Little Napolean might give you a clue as to what it’s like to mother this child. Another impatient one, kidlet number three came into the world ten weeks early and from the moment he was born he was a fighter (thank God, or we might have lost him). His fighting spirit stood him in good stead during those weeks in the NICU and the first year of his life when problem after problem kept us running between five different specialists. Now, however, all that spirit does is terrify anyone in his path. From beating his brothers over the head with their own Nerf swords to ordering them around at the top of his lungs to powering his way over any obstacle someone might put in his path, this kid knows how to handle opposition. The fact that he’s four and absolutely angelic looking and has a heart of gold underneath all that fight, only works in his favor—especially when it comes to wrapping his oldest brother around his little finger.

What he’s taught me …creative ways to punish a four year old as the regular ones only make him laugh? The importance of consistency? How to duck? While all of those things are true, he’s also taught me to appreciate every day I have on this earth, to embrace chaos and the importance of playing. He’s given me a plethora of gray hair in the last four years, but I wouldn’t trade him for the world …

So, if you have children, what have you learned from them? And if you don’t, just fill me in on something you’ve learned from someone important in your life. Leave a comment for a chance to win my April release, Deserving of Luke, two weeks before it hits shelves :) Happy Monday!

First Review for Hidden Embers!!!!!!!!!!

2011-03-24T22:47:00.000-05:00

The first review for Hidden Embers, the second book in the Dragon's Heat Series, is here. It got 4 1/2 Stars, Top Pick from Romantic Times and reviewer, Pat Cooper, had this to say:

"Steamy, off-the-charts sex, a deadly virus, cutting-edge technology, espionage and draconian torture all sit side by side in this first-class, shapeshifting novel. This second installment in the Dragonstar series is a glorious continuation of the first, filled with a fiery passion that’s hot enough to set the desert sands aflame.

As a virus spreads rapidly through his people, the Dragonstar clan, shapeshifting clan healer Dr. Quinn Maguire is obsessed with finding a cure for the disease that has killed so many. He even agrees to bring in human hematologist Dr. Jasmine Kane to help find a cure. Jazz has been around the world, dedicated to her job until an explosion in a war-torn country sidelined her on medical leave from the CDC. She agrees to come to the New Mexico desert to help her friend find a cure for a strange disease. Quinn falls hard and fast for her, and, what may be even worse, it is decreed that this human is his soul mate and life partner. As sensuality weaves a spell over the pair, the disease continues to spread and an opposing clan seeks to destroy the Dragonstar."

I'm so excited! I love this book :) Eleven days and counting to release day ...

I'm Guest Blogging Over at Magical Musings Today ...

2011-03-24T09:46:00.000-05:00

about the gothic villain heroes and giving away a copy of Dark Embers, my first Dragon's Heat book. Stop by and comment for a chance to win!

And the countdown has begun-- only 12 days until Hidden Embers hits the shelves!!!!!!!!

Fun Kissing Websites :)

2011-02-23T15:19:00.000-06:00

To go along with International Kissing Week over at my tracy-deebs blog, I thought I'd post some fun links here as well. Harlequin has a whole new website dedicated to the kiss, and there are also a ton of fun kissing websites out there. Check these out:

Check out Harlequin's Office for the Preservation of the Kiss http://www.patentyourkiss.com/Default.aspx

Or these fun websites with kissing trivia:

http://hicards.com/valentine/vkiss.html
http://www.romancestuck.com/kissing

Have fun and Happy Wednesday :)

Giveaway and other Cool Stuff!

2011-02-22T09:23:00.000-06:00

Hi Everyone :)

I'm doing a fun, girly giveaway over at tracy-deebs.blogspot.com today, so make sure to stop by and leave a comment to be entered to win!

In other news, I just sold a new YA series to Walker. It's a modern-day retelling of Pandora's Box, except instead of opening a box, my main character opens an attachment and brings about a technological armageddon. The first book is called Unplugged and I'm thinking it will be on shelves in late 2012. I'll let you know more details as I get them.

Also, fun times ahead-- Anya Bast, Lauren Dane and I all have new books for our series coming out in April, so we're teaming up to bring you a cool contest towards the end of next month-- don't forget to stop by our blogs to find out all the details :)

Well, that was my week last week-- plus recovering from the chicken pox and dealing with two sick kids. What have you been up to? Anything fun, exciting, interesting going on out there?????

It's International Kissing Week!

2011-02-21T08:47:00.000-06:00

Well, not really, since that is sometime in the summer, but I'm making my own to celebrate finishing my first contemporary YA novel, The International Kissing Club. Stop by http://www.tracy-deebs.blogspot/ all week to check out fun excerpts, giveaways, and to meet the other two authors (very dear friends of mine) that help make up Ivy Adams, the writer of IKC.

Happy Monday, everyone!

Tracy Wolff Stuff

2011-02-10T09:38:00.000-06:00

Hi Everyone! Yes, I'm back, and hope to be around much more lately. Mr. Wolff is finally better and so am I-- after the man gave me the Chicken Pox. Yes, I said Chicken Pox. I never had them as a kid and when he got shingles, I got the Chicken Pox. As a 35 year old woman. Ugh. Seriously. Ugh.

But I'm better now and have tons of news to share.

If you're in the Austin area, I will be speaking/signing/doing all kinds of fun games, etc. with a bunch of other Austin romance authors, at Pflugerville Library this Saturday at 2 p.m. Stop by and see us!

I just finished revisions on my first contemporary YA romance, International Kissing Club, with two of my dear friends turned writing partners. It will be out in January of next year under the author name Ivy Adams and details the adventures of four girls from Paris, Texas who become international exchange students (well, one gets stuck at home) and kiss and tell all over three continents. It's fun, flirty, and was an absolute blast to write!!!! I'll post something from it soon :)

I'm in the middle of securing all my different writing conferences for the upcoming months and you'll be able to catch up to me at DARA-- Dreamin' in Dallas, RT Convention in Los Angeles, Texas Library Association's Conference in Austin, New England Romance Writer's Conference, RWA Nationals in New York, RomCon in Denver and Lora Leigh's RAW weekend! It's a ton of stuff, but I'd love to see some of you if you're in the areas :)

Unguarded, my December superromance, has been doing really well. Here are some fun review links to follow, if you want to hear more about it:

http://lynettestwocents.blogspot.com/2011/01/review-unguarded-by-tracy-wolff.html
http://rosario.blogspot.com/2011/02/unguarded-by-tracy-wolff.html
http://theseasonforromance.com/december_contemp_2.html
http://www.rtbookreviews.com/book-review/unguarded
http://kristiej.blogspot.com/2010/12/recent-reads.html

I'm about to start revisions on Forbidden Embers, Logan's book and the third in the Dragon's Heat series. I'm also organzing my blog tour for Hidden Embers, Quinn's book, which comes out in April. Less than two months to wait ....

I'm also hard at work on my first Urban Fantasy, currently titled, Something Wicked, about a woman who sees dead people. Not ghosts, mind you, but dead bodies. Look for more about this in coming months :)

And, finally, I just got the most amazing cover quote from the talented and hilarious, Tera Lynn Childs, author of Forgive My Fins and Oh My Gods! She wrote this about Tempest and I couldn't be more thrilled, especially about the achingly beautiful part:
‎"Dark, magical, and achingly beautiful, Tempest Rising enthralled me from beginning to end. I alternately cried and cheered for Tempest as she navigated the world between human and mermaid, land and water, comfort and passion, self and duty. A must read for any mermaid lover and anyone who loves an epic read."

Pretty awesome, right?

So that's what's up with me. What have you guys been doing lately?

Another Sneak Preview

2011-01-25T07:58:00.000-06:00

Since I've been wrapped up in Hidden Embers and Tempest Rising lately (I can't believe I have three books coming out under three different names this spring) I haven't had much time to read or see movies. The fact that Mr. Wolff is sick right now (and an exceptionally bad and demanding patient) doesn't help either. S o for today's blog, I thought I'd copy what I did over at my other blog and give you a sneak peak at Tempest.

I pulled out the mirror and held it up to my left ear, tried to look at the odd bumps there without letting Mark or Brianne see. But as I got my first glimpse of the strange little slash in the mirror, my heart literally skipped a beat. Then two.

Trying (and failing) not to freak out, I frantically switched the mirror to my right side, only to see the same thing there. A short (no more than three-quarters of an inch) shallow cut ran directly beneath each of my ears. The cuts gaped a little on each side, despite the fact that they looked fully healed—there was none of the redness and dried blood that you would expect from a new injury.

My hands started to shake—so noticeably that I made myself dump my compact back in my purse. Mark and Bri were staring at me like I’d lost my mind, but I didn’t know what to say to them, didn’t even know if I could look at them.

I hadn’t cut myself in the ocean, hadn’t hurt myself and been unaware. No, nothing that simple would do for me. Instead, it was a million times worse. A billion times worse.

No, make that a trillion times worse.

Because one look at the slightly raised, slightly open slices and I knew exactly what they were. After all, I’d seen them before—every day of the first eleven years of my life—on my mother.

The short yet rocky journey between my life and

complete and utter insanity had just been fast-tracked. Sometime between checking myself over in the mirror before leaving the house and right now, I had grown gills.

So, what do you think?

Check This Out!

2011-01-21T15:56:00.000-06:00

I got home from working on my latest book to find this in my inbox. It's the cover for the Bloomsbury U.K. version of Tempest Rising. Though my name is spelled wrong (which they'll fix), I still think it's pretty cool. What do you think?

And I just heard that the Turkish rights to Tempest Rising sold as well. I'm excited, as I've never had a Turkish edition of one of my books before. It should hit the shelves there about a year after Tempest debuts here.

Have a great weekend!

A Fun, Little Excerpt from Hidden Embers

2011-01-20T10:31:00.000-06:00

Since I'm in the middle of working on publicity for Hidden Embers, the second book in the Dragon's Heat series, my brain is filled with dragons-- and badboy Quinn Maguire, particularly. So I thought I'd throw up a quick little excerpt to show you why Quinn and Jasmine are my favorite book of mine to date :)

Excerpt:
His beast went crazy the second she walked into the crowded bar. He wasn’t facing the door, didn’t even know who it was that had crossed the threshold—only that it was a woman and something about her had whipped his other half from its regular state of preternatural stillness into a near frenzy.

As the beast struggled to burst through his skin, struggled to get to her, Quinn slammed on the restraints. Held them tight even as the thing fought against the unnatural captivity. Unlike a lot of the men in his clan, he and his dragon usually existed quite peaceably together, but judging from the way it was suddenly slamming against him in its desperation to get out, it looked like that was about to change.

He was not impressed.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Quinn all but roared as her scent coasted over the stale cigarette smoke and raw whisky odor of the place and sent him spinning.

She smelled rich and ripe, like blackberries in the summertime and the night-blooming jasmine that grew along the back fence at his house. His beast liked the scent, wanted to glut himself on it until he was drunk, and the man wasn’t far behind.

Unable to resist, he turned toward the door, grinding his teeth together as he realized that a number of other men were doing the same thing. Not that he could blame them—she was, by far, the hottest thing in the bar, despite the fact that she looked like she’d just rolled out of bed. Or maybe because of it.

Unlike the rest of the women in the bar who were wearing tiny skirts and enough makeup to keep Maybeline in business for a long damn time, this one was dressed in a pair of black yoga pants and a matching tank top. There was no makeup on her face, at least none that he could see, but her lips were a rich, cherry red anyway, her cheeks flushed a soft, pale pink.

Her blonde hair was cut short and sassy, and her eyes were big and dark and rimmed with long, sexy lashes. He was too far away to see their color in the darkened room, but what he could see of them he liked a lot.

She wasn’t the kind of trouble he’d been looking for when he landed here, but as his dragon all but scrambled across the scarred wooden floor to get to her, he figured she would do.

She stood in the doorway for a few seconds, eyes narrowed and hands clenched into fists as she surveyed the room. As she did, nearly every man in the room sucked in his gut and straightened his shoulders.

She didn’t even notice.

He grinned. Yes, she would do very nicely indeed.

Her gaze swept the tables first, all of which were full, before falling on the only two empty barstools in the place—which were on either side of him.

Go figure.

She headed straight toward him, her long legs eating up the floor between them in a matter of seconds. His beast tensed in anticipation—and so did he. He wanted to know what she looked like close up, wanted to know if her skin was warm and if her smell was even sweeter without an entire room between them.

But before she could get to him, some asshole grabbed her elbow and spun her around, his other hand groping for her hip as he pulled her against him.

Quinn was off his barstool before the woman had even come to a stop, more than ready to teach the guy a lesson. But before he could take a step, she’d twisted her arm out of the idiot’s grasp and sent him stumbling backward with a well-placed shove to the shoulders.

The guy laughed, low and mean, and reached for her again. But there must have been something in her eyes that stopped him, as he froze, his hand halfway to her waist, and not even the threat of being embarrassed in front of all the other yahoos in the bar made him close the gap between them. Instead, he took the few steps back to his table and drank his beer like a man dying of thirst.

As she turned back to the bar, the light of battle hadn’t yet faded from her eyes. She wore a smirk as big as Texas, and when her eyes met his, there wasn’t an ounce of fear in their violet depths.

He grinned at her—he couldn’t help himself—and lifted his glass in a quick but sincere salute before downing it. He’d never been a big fan of women who acted like they were as tough as a man, but there was something about her that made her ability to defend herself sexy as hell. Besides, he wasn’t looking to marry the woman—he just wanted to feel good for a little while. Just wanted to forget, and she looked like she could help him do just that.

And when she slid onto the barstool to his right, calling out for a shot of Patron as she did, his dragon curled up inside of him and all but purred.

Yes, he thought, as he gestured for another shot of his own. She was trouble, no doubt about it. And she would do very nicely, indeed.

So, what do you think?

I was up way too late last night ...

2011-01-19T07:46:00.000-06:00

Reading Susan Elizabeth Phillips's Call Me Irresistible. What are you reading this week? Stop by my YA blog, http://www.tracy-deebs.blogspot.com/ and leave a comment on a writer you are really connecting with and be entered to win an escape the winter blahs, fun in the sun basket :)

My New Cover!

2011-01-18T15:33:00.000-06:00

I just got (meaning pulled off Amazon) the cover for my April 2011 Superromance. It's called Deserving of Luke, and while I don't have the back cover blurb yet, I do have a fabulous review from Fresh Fiction that includes a pretty good synopsis:

Paige Mathews' decision to move back to the one place she swore she would never return, her home town Prospect, is an easy one. Paige's sister has finally reached out for help, so Paige plans on spending the summer helping her in the town that brings back painful memories of love and betrayal. Paige promised years ago that she would stay away but, given Paige's sister request for assistance and a heart wrenching email, Paige is willing to face down the town gossip mongers and public ridicule because her family needs her. The only true complication is how Paige's first love, Logan Powell, will react to Paige returning to town after ten years with the son he devastatingly dismissed all those years ago.

Sheriff Logan Powell is finally happy after a bitter divorce and a move back to Prospect to be with his friends and family. Logan can't avoid finding out that Paige Mathews is back thanks to all the gossips approaching him as he walks through town. Though he anticipates that he will run into the woman who broke his heart years ago, still Logan is stunned speechless when he sees her. The painful memories come rushing back along with the anger he felt 10 years ago, but the real surprise is the boy sitting with her in the café. Logan feels he is looking at a miniature version of himself and is taken aback and even angrier than before.
DESERVING OF LUKE is a powerful and well written story of love and betrayal with pages full of enduring characters the reader will love. Definitely a must read!

So, what do you think? I know it's a little different from my normal Tracy Wolff stuff, but I hope you like it.

Country Strong

2011-01-13T07:35:00.000-06:00

so, have any of you seen this movie yet? If you have, what did you think of it? I was actually really excited about the movie-- so excited that my honey planned a date on Friday, when it released, just to take me to see it. And then I saw it ...

Now, I'm not going to complain about the actors-- I think the four of them did a really wonderful job with the characters they had. Paltrow was amazing, as was McGraw. The soundtrack was good and if parts of the movie were hard to watch, it wasn't unexpected.

What was unexpected, however, was the end. Now, I won't ruin it for you if you don't know what's going to happen, but suffice it to say ... I don't write romance for no reason. I like a happy ending, especially if I'm going to hang in there through all the ups and downs, mostly downs, of the rest of the story. And can I just say that with a title like Country Strong, a happy ending is pretty much implied (I thought it was outright stated, but obviously, I was mistaken).

So, what do you think? Did you like the movie, hate it, never want to see it to begin with? And if you want to tell me what movies out there are good I would appreciate it as my honey and I are going to try for a re-date this weekend!

Fun Giveaway at my Tracy Deebs Blog!!!

2011-01-10T13:11:00.002-06:00

I'm doing a quick little giveaway over at my http://www.tracy-deebs.blogspot.com/ blog, so stop by and comment for a chance to win :) The giveaway runs through Friday!

Baby, It's Cooooooold Outside

2011-01-10T07:41:00.000-06:00

I know, I know. Many of you live in places that make you laugh when I say it's cold outside. But remember, I'm a southern California girl transplanted to central Texas and it doesn't take much to make me shiver. At the moment, all it's taking is 30 degree weather with a cold wind that chills me straight to my bones. I guess Mother Nature forgot where she was ... and from what I understand, her memory lapse is going to continue for at least a week or two, getting colder almost every day.

My poor boys so don't have the clothes for this! Of course, the three of them are hoping it will rain so that we'll get an ice day or three (as happened a couple of years back). Or even better snow. We've lived in Austin six years and it's snowed exactly twice-- something my oldest reminds me of every January. Not like I could forget the sight of all the neighborhood kids sliding down my driveway on plastic container lids (the best answer to a sled we have here in Texas ;)

So tell me, what's the weather like where you live? Terrible or tropical? Freezing or break out the fan? Misery loves company after all ....

Unguarded Releases Today!

2010-12-07T09:38:00.000-06:00

Hi Everyone! I've been buried as usual, but hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday season. My hubby just made it back home after a month overseas (where he missed Thanksgiving) and we're all happy to have him home in time for Christmas :)

Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that my December Superromance (the follow up to From Friend to Father and Beginning with Their Baby) releases today. This is Rhiannon's story (Matt's sister) and it's about how she finally retakes control of her life after a brutal rape ruins her self-confidence, her marriage and her career. I'm super excited about this book and thought I'd throw a fun little excerpt up here for you to read. Enjoy and Happy Tuesday!

Excerpt:
Shawn had been shocked to find Rhiannon at his front door, but now that she was inside the house, he was really glad she’d decided to come. He’d spent the last week avoiding her as he tried to figure out just what he could take—and what he couldn’t—and he’d missed her. More than he probably should have. It had been a very pleasant surprise to find her on his doorstep, bearing ice cream and acting delightfully nervous.

Was it wrong of him to enjoy the fact that he made her nervous, he wondered as he pulled out two bowls and an ice cream scoop? Probably, but since she didn’t seem to be afraid—only aware of him on a whole new level—he wasn’t going to beat himself up over it.

She was dressed in a long-sleeved pink sweater and a pair of jeans that lovingly hugged her slight curves, and not for the first time, he realized that she was too thin. How long had she been suffering? he wondered. How long had she been wasting away because of something some monster had done to her?

He’d spent hours on the internet in the last few days, trying to ferret out what had happened to her, but nothing new had turned up after that first day. The not knowing what had happened to he was eating him up inside. Driving him crazy. The idea that someone had hurt her upset him more than anything had in a very long time—maybe ever.

“So, tell me about this theory you have about ice cream flavors,” Rhiannon said as she settled onto the same barstool she’d occupied the last time she’d been there.

“What kind did you get?” he asked, reaching into the bag to pull out one of the containers.

“Uh-uh. That’s not fair. You have to tell me your theory and then we’ll see if you’re right.”

Her voice was low and teasing and he felt himself hardening in response. Her nervousness was still there, but it was also countered with a sultriness that had him thinking of hot sex and endless nights in bed. He knew he was rushing things in his head—she was too skittish for either of those things just yet—but that didn’t stop his fantasies any more than it stopped the need running through him.

Part of him wanted nothing more than to cross to her, to pull her into his arms and to kiss her. But the last time he’d done that hadn’t worked out well and he was interested enough in her to put on the brakes, to take things as slowly as Rhiannon needed to. In the meantime, he would content himself with remembering what her body had felt like against his, what she had tasted like as his mouth had explored hers.

“Well, I’ve found that there are three types of ice cream—and a certain type of woman enjoys each kind.”

“Do tell.” She leaned back on the stool, arching a brow in that way that made him crazy.

“The first kind is the one who loves pure flavors, ice cream with nothing added to it like vanilla or chocolate, strawberry or mango.”

“And what type of woman likes that kind of ice cream?”

He stared hard at the bag for a second, trying hard to figure out what kind of ice cream Rhiannon had brought him. He would really hate to insult her—or worse, send her running again—by saying the wrong thing.

“One who knows her own mind. She’s straight-forward and uncluttered, speaks her mind and isn’t afraid of a challenge. She’s smart and very often what you see with her is what you get.”

Rhiannon watched him carefully. “That kind of person sounds a little boring to me.”

“I don’t think so. There’s something kind of refreshing about always knowing where you stand with her. I like women who know their own mind and aren’t afraid to go after it.”

“I bet. And the second type of woman?”

“Oh, she’s the kind who likes things a little more complicated, whether it’s ice cream or relationships. But who is so used to denying herself that she doesn’t understand that low-fat frozen yogurt or sugar free ice cream really isn’t ice cream at all—just a poor substitute.

“And this woman is into denial? You don’t think that’s complicated?”

He grinned. “I didn’t say she was uncomplicated. Just that I was pretty sure I could handle her.”

“You think so, huh?”

“I’m feeling pretty confident.” He reached for the bag a second time, but she stopped him.

“You haven’t finished your analysis quite yet.”

“Wouldn’t you rather eat ice cream?”

“Not even close. I’m spellbound.”

“All right then. The third type likes the everything-but-the-kitchen sink variety of ice cream. You know, triple chocolate chunk with pecans and caramel. Or peanut butter and fudge brownie with strawberry sauce.”

“Peanut butter and fudge brownie? With strawberry?” Rhiannon shuddered. “That sounds revolting.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I guess.” She looked doubtful, but finally asked, “And what fascinating personality quirks does the kitchen sink woman have?”

“She’s the woman who takes a long time to make up her mind, the one who doesn’t know exactly what she wants until she tries it on for size. She’s a little wild, not quick to be pinned down. An adventurer.”

“Sounds like she’s a little over the top.”

“Maybe a little.”

“But you can handle her too, right?” Rhiannon’s eyes were laughing at him and as he watched her he realized it was the first time since they’d met that she seemed truly happy. Completely relaxed.

“I don’t know about that—she might be a little much for me.” He glanced at the bag she was still guarding. “Can I dish up the ice cream now?”

“If you think you can take it.”

“I’m pretty tough.”

She laughed. “For a guy who spends all day playing with superheroes, I’m sure you’re very tough.”

“Hey, Shadeslayer’s a complicated guy. He keeps me on my toes.” He reached into the bag, absolutely certain that he was going to be pulling out Vanilla or Strawberry or their equivalent. What he got, however, was a tub of Turtle Brownie Fudge ice cream followed by one of Triple Berry Cheesecake.

Surprised, he glanced up to find Rhiannon watching him with a smirk. “So, what do you think of your Ice Cream Woman analysis now?”

He thought he was a much luckier man than he’d originally suspected. “It’s never wrong, so I’m guessing there’s a whole side of you I haven’t seen yet.”

“Never wrong, huh? You’ve done some kind of scientific study on this?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it scientific.”

“So what would you call it?”

He shifted, tried to think of a nice way to put it. Finally, he said, “I’ve eaten ice cream with a lot of women in my life.”

She snorted. “I just bet you have.”

Giveaway :)

2010-11-30T07:48:00.000-06:00

I'm over at Beth Kery's blog today, talking about my December 8th book, Unguarded. It's the third book in the From Friend to Father, Beginning with Their Baby trilogy, and it is the story of Rhiannon, Matt's sister who survived a brutal rape that destroyed her career, her marriage and her confidence. Come check out an excerpt from Unguarded and leave a comment for a chance to win the first two books in the trilogy as well as a copy of my first erotic romance, Full Exposure!

And time's running out on the contest over at my new YA blog-- don't forget to head over there for a chance to win an ARC of Tempest Rising!

Guess What I'm Doing Today!!!!!

2010-11-24T06:56:00.001-06:00

So excited! I'm finally going to see Harry Potter today-- I've been waiting for what feels like forever. Usually we go on opening night (my oldest son and I) but he's also my babysitter and with dad out of town, it makes things difficult .... But today is the day. My oldest two are out of school, but the baby's preschool is open, so .... off to preschool for kidlet #3 and off to the movie theater for us. So excited .I know I already said that, but hey, I'm a total Harry Potter nerd. I even had a friend buy my kids wands (Snape, Harry and Voldemort's) from the Orlando theme park this summer and I swear, my middle one almost never lets Harry's wand out of his sight. A day doesn't go buy that he doesn't play with it-- and that's saying something, as usually the only thing he has that much affection for is his Wii :)

So, how many of you have already seen Harry? Am I going to love it?????

A Little Something From What I'm Working On ...

2010-11-23T04:57:00.000-06:00

I know it's Thanksgiving week, but it's crunch time here in the Wolff/Adams househould as I have the third Dragon's Heat book, Forbidden Embers, due next week. It's Logan's story (the psychic dragon from Dark Embers) and is currently giving me a few fits. He's a lot harder to pin down than I thought he would be ... Anyway, I hoped you might enjoy a paragraph or two from my current WIP. Have a wonderful pre-Thanksgiving Tuesday :)

For a second, she had a vision of running her lips over those tattoos. Of letting her tongue linger on the warm, tanned skin between the thick black lines. The vision was so real—as was the answering response in her body—that it had her snapping out, “Who are you?” before she had thought better of it.

“The dragon who currently has possession of what I’m guessing are your clothes,” he said with a grin that turned his face from a work of art into a study in mischievousness.

Her breath caught and she felt a strange tingling in her chest. Forcing herself to look away from him, Cecily let his words sink in. They were easier to understand when she wasn’t blinded by his insanely good looks.

For the first time, she noticed the dark green backpack dangling from his fingers, and outrage filled her as his words suddenly made a lot more sense. “Hey! Give that to me!”

“Why should I?”

“Because it’s mine!” she said.

“Really? Because from where I’m standing, things look a little different. Possession is nine-tenths of the law, after all.”

She rolled her eyes. “Can I please have my clothes back? It’s not like they’ll look good on you anyway.”

“Maybe not. But it turns out I’m particularly fond of the blue lace bra and panty set in the front pocket. If you want it back, I’m afraid it’s going to cost you.”

Tracy Deebs Giveaway!

2010-11-22T10:20:00.000-06:00

Hi, everyone :) Hope your Monday is going swimmingly :) I'm crossposting this contest from my new YA blog, Into the Tempest and hope you'll join in the fun. I'm in the middle of putting together a playlist for my May YA, Tempest Rising, and thought I would come to you for help. Once the playlist is compiled, I'll be giving it away as a prize in a future contest, but for now-- in exchange for your help-- I'm giving away the only ARC of Tempest Rising you can get your hand so n before February, some fun Bath and Body Works stuff, and whatever other cool things I run across as I do my holiday shopping. The contest is open until December 7th.

To enter: Head over to my new blog: www.tracy-deebs.blogspot.com and leave a comment in the contest section, with at least one song recommendation for the playlist. That's it, so come on! I can't wait to see what you come up with. There's an excerpt posted over there, as well, so you can get the feel of the book :) Have a great Thanksgiving week!

Winner of Giveaway #4

2010-11-22T10:13:00.000-06:00

Congratulations, RK Charron! You are the winner of Laura Griffin's Unforgivable. Drop me your snail mail at tracy@tracywolff.com and I'll forward your address on to Laura. Happy Monday!

Giveaway #4: Laura Griffin's Unforgivable

2010-11-20T07:47:00.001-06:00

Today I'm so excited to have my very good friend and 2010 Rita Award Winner for Romantic Suspense, Laura Griffin, here at Love Musings. Laura is absolutely fabulous and her books are amazing too-- the Tracers series seriously rocks. Today, Laura is giving away a copy of Unforgivable, hot off the presses (she just got her author copies this week) and before it can be bought in the stores. Leave a comment below for a chance to win Unforgivable! And here's a quick note from Laura about a contest she's running as well:

Blurb:
TRACING KILLERS IS MIA VOSS’S BUSINESS.
AND HER WORK JUST GOT PERSONAL.

At first, Mia Voss thinks it’s just bad luck when her already lousy day ends with a carjacking. But what seems like a random incident is followed by another sinister episode. A DNA expert, Mia has made it her mission to put away vicious criminals. Suddenly, she’s become the target of one. And the only way to protect the people she loves most is to deliberately destroy her reputation and risk letting a killer walk free.
Once, Mia trusted Detective Ric Santos. That was before Ric let his turbulent past ruin his chances with Mia, the sexiest, most intriguing woman he’s ever met. But he can tell when she’s lying—and when she’s scared. The key to catching a sadistic madman lies within a long-buried cold case that has haunted Mia for years. Only she can uncover the truth, but first, Ric will have to get her to entrust him with her secrets . . . and her life.

Excerpt:

Mia Voss needed a fix. Badly.

On a normal day, she would have stood strong against the temptation. But nothing about today had been normal, starting with the fact that it was January seventh and ending with the fact that for the first time in her life she’d actually been demoted.
Her stomach clenched as she turned into the Minute-Mart parking lot and eased her white Jeep Wrangler into a space near the door. Her cheeks warmed at the still-fresh memory of standing stiffly in her boss’s office, gazing down at his weasel-like face as he’d sat behind his desk, meting out criticism. At the time, she’d been stunned speechless, too shocked by what was happening to defend herself. Only now--six hours too late--did the all the perfect rejoinders come tumbling into her head.

Mia jerked opened the door to the convenience store and made a beeline for the freezer section. If there was ever a night that called for Ben & Jerry’s New York Super Fudge Chunk, it was tonight. For the first Thursday night in months, she wasn’t stuck at the lab. For the first Thursday night in years, the only items demanding her attention were a sappy chick flick, a cozy blanket, and a pint of butterfat. Tonight was for wallowing. Mia slid open the freezer door and plucked out a tub of Super Fudge Chunk. She tucked it under her arm, then grabbed a Chunky Monkey. As long as she was sinning, why not sin big? That motto had gotten her into trouble on more than one occasion, but she continued to follow it.
“Doc Voss.”
She jumped and whirled around.

A bulky, balding man in a brown overcoat stood behind her. He crouched down to pick up the carton that had rolled across the aisle, then stood and held it out to her. “Good stuff, isn’t it?”

“Uh, thanks.” She stared at him and tried to place his name. He was a cop, she knew that much. But he wasn’t someone she’d seen around in a while, and she couldn’t pull a name from her memory banks.
“Not as good as mint chip, though.” His droll smile made him look grandfatherly. “My wife’s favorite.”

She noticed his shopping basket--two pints of mint chocolate chip and a six-pack of beer.

His gaze drifted down to her fur-lined moccasins and a bushy gray eyebrow lifted. “Slumber party?”

Mia glanced down. For her quick trip to the store, she’d tucked her satin nightshirt into jeans, pulled on a ratty cardigan, and slipped her feet into house shoes. She looked like an escapee from a mental ward, which of course meant she’d bump into someone she knew from work. Nothing like reinforcing that professional image. Yes, today was shaping up to be a banner career day.

Mia forced a smile. “More like movie night.” She glanced at her watch and stepped toward the register. “It’s about to start, actually. I’d better--”
“Don’t let me keep you.” He nodded. “See ya around, Doc.”
Mia watched his reflection in the convex mirror as she paid for her groceries. He added a couple of frozen dinners to his basket and then headed for the chip aisle.

The name hit her as she pulled out of the parking lot. Frank Hannigan. San Marcos PD. Why couldn’t she have remembered it sooner?
Something hard jabbed into her neck.
“Take a left at this light.”

Mia’s head whipped around. Her chest convulsed. In the backseat was a man. He held a gun pointed right at her nose.
“Watch the road!”

She jerked her head around just in time to see the telephone pole looming in front of her. She yanked the wheel left and managed to stay on the street.

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. Her hands clutched the steering wheel in a death grip. Her gaze flashed to the mirror and homed in on his gun. It was big and serious-looking, and he held it rock-steady in his gloved hand.

“Turn left.”

The command snapped her attention away from the weapon and back to him. Her brain numbly registered a description: black hooded sweatshirt, pulled tight around his face. Navy bandana covering his nose and mouth. Dark sunglasses. All she could see of the man behind the disguise was a thin strip of skin between the glasses and the bandana.

He jammed the muzzle of the pistol into her neck again. “Eyes ahead.”
She forced herself to comply. Her heart pounded wildly against her sternum. Her stomach tightened. She realized she’d stopped breathing. She focused on drawing air into her lungs and unclenched her hand from the wheel so that she could shift gears and turn left.

Where are we going? What does he want?

Her mind flooded with terrifying possibilities as she hung a left and darted her gaze around, looking for a police car, a fire truck, anything. But this was a college town and whatever action might be going on tonight was happening much closer to campus.

How was she going to get out of this? Cold sweat beaded along her hairline. Her stomach somersaulted. Bile rose up in the back of her throat.
The engine reached a high-pitched whine. She’d forgotten to change gears. Her clammy hand slipped on the gear-shift as she switched into third.
Think. She glanced around desperately, but the streets were quiet. The nearest open business was the Dairy Queen two blocks behind them.
“CenTex Bank, on your right. Pull up to the drive-through ATM.”
Mia’s breath whooshed out. He wanted money. Tears of relief filled her eyes. But they quickly morphed into tears of panic because she realized his wanting money didn’t really mean anything. He could still shoot her in the head and leave her on the side of the road. She of all people knew the amazingly cheap price of a human life. A wad of cash. A bag of crack. A pair of sneakers.
She could be dead before the ATM even spit out the bills.

The cold, hard muzzle of the gun rubbed against her cheek. Her breath hitched and her gaze went to the mirror. She remembered the police sketch of a man in a hooded sweatshirt and sunglasses who for years had been on the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted list. The Unabomber. Mia had met the artist who had drawn that sketch. As a forensic scientist as one of the world’s top crime labs, Mia had connections in every conceivable area of law enforcement. And at this moment, they were useless to her. At this moment, it was just her and this man alone in her car with his gun pointed at her head.

Stay calm. Make a plan.

She maneuvered the Jeep up to the teller machine, nearly scraping the yellow concrete pillar on the right side of her car. Too late, she realized she’d just ruined a potential escape route.

She closed her eyes and swallowed. She thought of her mom. Whatever happened, she had to live through this. Her mother couldn’t take another blow.
Not on January seventh.
Mia’s eyes popped open at the realization. She turned to face him with a renewed sense of determination--or maybe it was adrenaline--surging through her veins. “How much do you want?” She rolled the window down with one hand while scrounging through her purse for her wallet.

“Five thousand.”

“Five thousand?” She turned to gape at him. She had that much, yeah. In an IRA account somewhere. Her checking account was more in the neighborhood of five hundred. But she wanted more than anything not to tick this guy off.

She gulped. “I think my limit is three hundred.” She tried to keep her voice steady, but it was wobbling all over the place. She turned to look at him, positioning her shoulders so the camera on the ATM could get a view into her car. It probably couldn’t capture him from this angle, but it might capture the gun. “I can do several transactions,” she said.

The barrel rapped against her cheek bone. She would have a bruise tomorrow. If she lived that long.

She turned to the machine and, with shaking fingers, punched in her code and keyed in the amount. Three hundred was the most she could get. Could she get it twice? Had her cable bill cleared? Mia handed him the first batch of twenties and chewed her lip as she waited for the second transaction to go through.

Transaction declined.
Her blood turned to ice. Seconds ticked by as she waited for the man’s response. Despite the sweat trickling down her spine, her breath formed a frosty cloud as she stared at the words flashing on the screen.

That’s it, she thought. I’m dead.
She reached a trembling hand out and pulled the receipt from the slot.

She could make a break for it right here. Except her doors were pinned shut by the concrete pillars on either side of her.

She could speed to the nearest well-populated area--which was a Walmart three blocks away. Would she get there before he shot her or wrestled the wheel away?

“Back on the highway.” The command was laced with annoyance. But not quite as much disappointment as she’d expected.

She put the Jeep in gear and returned to the highway. As she shifted gears, she glanced at the familiar Mardi Gras beads hanging from her rearview mirror. Somehow they steadied her. This was her car and she was in the driver’s seat. She could control this.

“How about Sun Bank?” Her voice sounded like a croak. That bank was past Walmart. Maybe she could swerve into the lot and make a run for it.

“Hang a left.”

Mia’s hands gripped the steering wheel. Her gaze met his in the mirror. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she could read his intent--it was in his tone of voice, his body language, the perfectly steady way held that gun.

Left on the highway meant out of town. He was going to kill her.

Wow! Talk about a great excerpt-- I'm jealous now that one of you gets the book while I have to wait for November 30, pout, pout. If you follow this blog, you know that I love Laura and think she's one of the best writers doing romantic suspense today. So, for today's question, any fabulous plans for this weekend? I'm writing Forbidden Embers and listening to the wood guys lay my Vermont Maple floors downstairs. Sound like fun? I will take some time out to run the boys to the park this afternoon, as it promises to be a beautiful day.

Winner of Giveaway #3: Skyler White

2010-11-20T07:36:00.001-06:00

Melanie S. wins both of Skye's books. Congratulations, Melanie :) Drop me your snail mail address at tracy@tracywolff.com and I'll forward it to Skye. Enjoy!

Giveaway #3: Skyler White

2010-11-19T08:32:00.000-06:00

Today, the very fabulous Skye White is here giving away not one book, but two. She'll be giving away a copy of her first book, And Falling, Fly, which I loved as well as her brand new book, In Dreams Begin. I'm so excited abotu the new book because I saw it in its first inception, way back when and have been dying to read the full, completed book for two years now. So join me in welcoming Skye and leave a comment to be entered to win her books!

Blurb:

“Close your eyes tightly—tightly—and keep them closed . . .”

From a Victorian Ireland of magic, poetry and rebellion, Ida Jameson, an amateur occultist, reaches out for power, but captures Laura Armstrong, a modern-day graphic artist instead. Now, for the man or demon she loves, each woman must span a bridge through Hell and across history . . . or destroy it.

“Every passionate man is linked with another age, historical or imaginary, where alone he finds images

that rouse his energy.” W. B. Yeats

Anchored in fact on both sides of history, Laura and Ida, modern rationalist and fin de siècle occultist, are linked from the moment Ida channels Laura into the body of celebrated beauty and Irish freedom-fighter Maud Gonne. When Laura falls—from an ocean and a hundred years away—passionately, Victorianly in love with the young poet W. B. Yeats, their love affair entwines with Irish history and weaves through Yeats’s poetry until Ida discovers something she wants more than magic in the subterranean spaces in between.

With her Irish past threatening her orderly present and the man she loves in it, Laura and Yeats—the practical materialist and the poet magus—must find a way to make love last over time, in changing bodies, through modern damnation, and into the mythic past to link their pilgrim souls . . . or lose them forever.

Excerpt:
Ida took a silent moment to assess her situation, before beginning to curse.

Her feet were over her head. The trailing nightdress which had tripped her and launched her headlong tumble down the servants’ backstairs, was likewise aloft. It had been her intention to spend some of her night in such a posture, but not alone at the bottom of an uncarpeted flight of stairs.

Ida pressed her unbroken hand to the quiet stairwell’s cold floor and pushed against it, swearing steadily. Maud did not plunge down stairs. But when she wrote to Ida of her new “spiritual marriage” to Mr. Yeats, Ida had raced from Paris, leaving her house and studies with more haste than planning. None the less, if her trip (despite her fall) bore the ripe red fruit she hoped, and Maud’s astral nuptials were enough for Will Yeats’s erotic love to open the vortex between planes, Ida’s daemon lover might, this very night, take possession of anyone she could find to make physical love to her. She understood the magic.

Ida took a careful, aching shuffle toward the final flight of stairs, but stopped when she heard whistling. Damn the fool and her dancehall tune coming in past curfew. And damn Ida, too, for her woman’s form. If she were a man, the maid downstairs, caught between dismissal and the chance to win ten shillings on her back, would be easily coaxed upstairs. And if not, a man could still take what Ida sought. But not tonight. Tonight her selection must be willing, open to suggestion, and able, once mesmerized, to send his soul away. No matter. Ida had a lifetime’s skill of using what little beauty she possessed. Once on the street, an unbuttoned coat over her nightdress and her loosened hair would be enough to draw a gentleman to the aid of a sleepwalking woman. Ungentlemanly opportunism would accomplish the rest.

The whistle faded into the pantry, doubtless foraging for a bite of cold dinner. Ida leaned against the stair wall and extended a leg in silent descent. Her knee knifed pain through her hip into her belly, locked, and completely gave way. Ida catapulted down the stairs into the kitchen.

“Who is there?”

A glint of blade in the black scullery and the growled question in nearly flawless English revealed the night whistler as male, but Ida’s attempt at her own name issued from her lips as a dull moan. A match scratched and set against a wick, spit, and lit a man’s rugged face.

“I said, who is there?”

Still unable to speak, Ida tasted the blood-filled space between her teeth and cheek and watched the cruel shadow steal across the kitchen on silent feet behind his raised candle and knife. Mayhap this was how all foreign criminals fed themselves, stealing into the sleeping kitchens of decent English houses.

The thief belted his knife and knelt beside her with a fluidity that returned Ida’s voice with a scream. Or with the beginning of one, stifled by his sudden, smothering palm. “Shhhh,” he cautioned in a low whiskey whisper.

Ida nodded consent.

He took his fingers from her lips and wiped the blood from them on his breeches. “Can you sit?” he whispered.

Ida nodded again, but before she could struggle upright, her body was banded by oaken arms and hoisted aloft. In two silent strides, the burglar carried her to the kitchen’s long table. He kicked a chair out and seated Ida unceremoniously, catching her shoulders to hold her. “Are you steady?” He crouched before her.

Ida tried to smile.

Without warning, his large hands shifted from her shoulder, to run, surprisingly nimble, bold and deft across her body. He handled her feet and knees, twisted her wrists, stopping when she winced, and prodding the pads of her palms. He reached boldly into her hair and felt across her scalp. He poked a finger into her mouth and Ida jerked away with a squeak. He raised a menacing eyebrow and reached again between her lips. They gapped open around the digit’s formidable girth, and he ran it without pressure against the fronts of her teeth.

“Would you care to tell me why a lady of your position slips down the servants’ stairs at two o’clock in the morning, madam?”

“I’ll scream,” Ida threatened.

“No you won’t.” He sat back on his heels with an insolent grin. “You are escaping a reputable address, undressed, at a disreputable hour. You are late to meet a lover who has taken rooms close by.”

“No.”

From between a rough-stubbled jaw and hanging forelock, a pair of fierce eyes combed Ida’s face. The subtle trace of accent was Russian, she decided. “Your husband—an upstanding and prosperous man, no doubt—is in your bed upstairs, and you can no longer bear the smell and the sound of his sleeping. You are out of bed only to be away from him.”

Ida stifled a laugh and shook her head.

“Invent a more entertaining lie while I fetch my supper,” he instructed, and vanished into the pantry with uncanny speed. He returned with a hunk of the evening’s cold mutton and a bottle which he unstoppered, swigged, and passed to Ida. “You’ve no bones broken, but this will do you good all the same.” He bit into the meat with savage teeth. “Talk.”

“I must have been sleepwalking,” Ida murmured.

“Sleepwalkers don’t stop for coats.”

“I awoke from sleeping and realized I had left a case downstairs.”

He laughed. “You’re a very dull liar. If you had wanted any decent thing, you would have rung. There are only two reasons to fetch for yourself what others can carry to you, and they’re two blades of the same knife. Is it shame or pride, Madam, driving you abroad so stealthy and late?”

Unable to meet his bold eyes, Ida took a drink from the bottle and gasped as the liquor touched the raw, bitten places in her mouth. Her eyes filled with tears and she swallowed with a gulp, blood and whiskey mingling her father’s smells and her uncle’s tastes.

She stood up and wobbled. She would have fallen, but the thief caught her once again.

She looked up into the dark at him and cursed her blindness.

He whistled softly. “I’ve never heard a lady swear so well.”

Ida swooned against his heavy, wide chest, and enjoyed the strong arm moving to cradle her again. One of her more artful faints, it dropped her cloak from her shoulder and opened the neck of her nightdress. A slight adjustment, masked by a fevered moan, pushed her breasts into better view.

How could she have doubted her daemon would provide? He had chosen for himself this massive specimen of masculinity. Ida had been a fool, wasting time trying to escape him to the streets.

“I cannot say I do not appreciate the offer,” he said with a new edge in his gruff whisper, “but you won’t need to ransom your freedom from me. I didn’t mean to keep you past the point I knew you were unhurt enough to leave.”

Ida stayed fainted, but let her limp body press against him below where his belt was slung.

“Enough of that.” He dumped her onto the chair again. “I did not mean to drive you to such desperate measures. You need not tell me anything. Go. I will not try to stop you.”

“Don’t you dare believe you held me against my will!” Ida glared at the towering man and took another gulp of whiskey. She held it in her mouth, and let her eyes fill up with tears, the yellow fire licking her tongue’s raw places, searing them with rage and doubt.

“Were you going out for gin?”

Ida nodded and let a tear run down her cheek.

“Drink up then, cherie. I would not hold that against you.”

Ida tipped the bottle to her lips again and drank. She extended it to the tower of man standing over her. He sat and drank, swallowing the flaming amber easily.

“You’re still lying,” he observed.

“Yes,” she said at last.

“Why did you offer yourself to me just now?”

Ida laughed without sound. “Because I wanted to.”

One harsh eyebrow rose in surprise, but he did not accuse her of lying again. Slowly, the other brow joined it. He leaned forward in his chair. “Was it a man then, you were going out to find?”

“It was.”

The whistle came again, deep and slow.

“I have been married to the same man for too many years.”

“And you ventured out tonight for one who was not your husband.”

“Yes.”

“You should be going then.”

Ida masked her surprise with a coquette’s smile. “You are not my husband,” she observed.

“I am not. But I am more than not just one man.”

“Of course,” she sneered. “You must be the hunter, the seducer, and all your conquests come—pure and persuaded, almost unwilling—to your bed.” Ida stood up, and when her legs weakened, she steadied herself with a hand on the rough table. “You may read your stories of women who give their bodies freely, in pursuit of their own pleasure, but you, in truth, would fear such a maenad.”

He stood slowly, exaggerating the difference in their heights and strength. “You have lied to and insulted me. I should put you out of doors like a yowling tomcat to find what you need tonight, but you are too bruised to walk and haven’t the sense to avoid murdering.” In an easy swoop, he gathered Ida into his powerful arms and started up the backstairs with her. At the first landing, he set her on her battered feet.

“What is your name?”

“Ida Jameson Rowley.”

“Had you lied, I would have left you here.”

Instead, he took Ida’s face in his huge hands and kissed her with a deliberate and insistent mouth. Not a hurried kiss, nor the furtive mouthing of her husband. The thief’s long and thorough exploration made Ida’s lips want to answer, and without willing it, her battered mouth responded, her tongue tasting cold flesh and whiskey.

Then she was in the air against his chest again, the steps swimming past, two at a time, beneath her. His rough stubble brushed her cheek, his voice spoke hot in her ear. “What room is yours, Madam Rowley?”

“Four,” she said against his neck.

The thief strode to Ida’s door and put her down again. She leaned against the jamb and waited, afraid he might depart, but after listening to the silent hall, he turned the knob and walked into her rooms. Ida tottered after him.

He prodded the dying fire and seated himself in the best chair beside it.

“Take your coat off, Ida Jameson Rowley,” he whispered.

Ida let it fall to the floor.

“Why are you in London?”

“I am visiting a friend.”

“Open your nightdress.”

Ida’s stiff fingers worked slowly, unbuttoning down to her navel the stiff white cotton.

“Is your friend the woman in the room next door?”

“Yes.”

“Put your hands on either side of your nightdress and show yourself to me.”

Ida’s hands moved of their own volition, curling around the cloth, pulling it open. “You heard her sex cries through your wall?”

Ida opened her eyes and stared at him. How did he know of the noises Maud made?

“I have Russian hearing,” he said with an easy smile. “Take that terrible thing off.”

The buttons and ruffles fell to the ground, eliciting a low rumble of appreciation from the mysterious blaggard [CE1] [AU2] Ida was no longer certain she was seducing. Her arms felt extraneous. She clasped her hands before her as she had been taught to stand for singing. His eyes caressed her naked breasts, and Ida swayed, dizzy with the pleasure of it.

“Your friend next door has been enjoying a secret assignation while you, invited to visit, but unattended to, listened from the room next door, until loneliness drove you out of doors for a lover of your own.”

“Yes.”

He rose to leave.

“My friend next door sleeps alone,” Ida quickly corrected.

The elegant, questioning eyebrow arched, but he said nothing.

“And I want to share her dreams.”

“Untie the drawstring of your drawers.”

So, for today's question, I thought I'd ask, do you have a favorite poet? Skye uses Yeats in her book, but I'm much more in tune iwth Allen Ginsburg, Sylvia Plath and Sandra Cisneros. How about you?

Winner of Beth Kery Giveaway

2010-11-19T08:14:00.002-06:00

Congratulations, Scorpio M. You've won your choice of a Beth Kery backlist book. Drop me your email addy at tracy@tracywolff.com and I'll forward it to Beth :)

Sneak Preview of my new YA: Tempest Rising

2010-11-17T09:29:00.005-06:00

Hi Everyone! The Beth Kery Explosive giveaway will be going on until midnight tonight, but I have a new post over at my brand new blog, http://www.tracy-deebs.blogspot.com It's the prologue for my first YA novel, Tempest Rising. I'd love it if you stop by and read it/leave a comment. I'll be giving away an ARC early next week-- which I'll cross post here! I also have a bunch of different goodies lined up to give away over there in the next couple of months, as I anxiously wait for it to hit the shelves. Anyway, I hope you enjoy:)

Here's the blurb:

Giveaway #2:The Fabulous Beth Kery

2010-11-16T11:59:00.005-06:00

Today's giveaway is reader's choice. I'm thrilled that the fabulous Beth Kery is here, with her wonderful new book, Explosive, which hits the shelves on December 7th (I, for one, can't wait)! She's offering the winner a choice of any one of her backlist books. So leave a comment below to be entered to win.

His touch would consume her—if it didn’t kill her first…

Dr. Sophie Gable wasn’t expecting her peaceful getaway to be shattered by the arrival of a half-dazed, dead-sexy guest. Thomas Nicasio has obviously been traumatized, and Sophie thinks she knows by what. There’s something about Thomas’s father that he can’t—or won’t—remember. Something that could get them both killed. Still she can’t resist Thomas’s electrifying seduction—or her instincts to help him…

An ex-Navy explosives specialist, Thomas has never felt this type of volatile need for a woman. Even while he’s grieving the deaths of his brother and nephew, something in Sophie makes Thomas want to overtake her, and each time he does, her willing submission makes him want her all the more. But danger is lurking close by, and if he can’t face the demons of his past, he and Sophie could be the next victims in a pattern of meaningless violence…

Excerpt:

Her fingers delved through thick, surprisingly soft hair, searching for wounds on his scalp. A shiver coursed through him when her hand reached the base of his skull. She caught his scent. Despite his obvious illness and uncharacteristic disheveled state, Thomas Nicasio smelled good.

Cautiously, she met his stare.

For a few seconds, neither of them moved. Sophie suspected neither of them breathed.

“Did you hit your head, Tom?” she asked eventually, her fingers resuming their careful search.

“I don’t think so.”

"Have you been drinking?” she asked, even though she’d inhaled his breath and already suspected that he wasn’t drunk. He shook his head.

“Drugs?”

Again, he shook his head. She pushed back his bangs. Her gaze shot to his when she saw the discoloration near his hairline on his left temple.

“You have been hit.” She reached for the wrist of his right arm, holding his stare all the while. Her mind churned when she glanced down and saw the abrasions and flecks of dried blood on his knuckle.

“You’ve been in a fight,” she stated tersely. Did a shadow of defiance cross his features, or was that her imagination? Well, perhaps she had sounded accusatory. It wasn’t her place to judge him, after all.

“Are you in any pain?”

“No.”

“Sick to your stomach?”

He shrugged negligently.

“How is it that you’re here, Tom?” she asked, despite the memory of what he’d said earlier.

I came looking for you, Sophie.

He wasn’t entirely lucid, after all.

“Do you know someone who lives near here?” she prompted when he didn’t speak.

“No. I only know you.”

“Well…why did you come looking for me?” she couldn’t resist asking in an anxious rush. “Did you find yourself getting ill on the road and need a doctor? Did you remember me telling you I was vacationing here, at Haven Lake?”

A spasm went through him and he cupped his right brow with his palm.

“I’m taking you to the emergency room in Effingham,” she declared, alarmed by the sight of what must have been a jolt of intense pain going through him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you’ve got to, you’re not well and—“

“I’m not going to the hospital,” he grated out between clenched teeth.

She went completely still at his harsh tone. She considered calling the police, but then he opened his eyes.

“All right.”

The two words leaving her own lips surprised her a little, but she felt as if she didn’t have a choice once she’d looked into those twin pools of turmoil and anguish. “You might have a concussion, but you’re feverish, as well. I’ll get you some Tylenol and then you need to rest. Will you at least promise me to do that for now?”

“I’m not sleepy,” he said hoarsely. His gaze lowered. Heat flooded her cheeks. He stared at her breasts covered in the thin bikini top. Her body responded to his blatantly sexual gaze against her will. Her nipples stiffened beneath the flimsy fabric.

He stepped toward her.

I'm in the middle of trying to plan my menu for Thanksgiving, and I'm trying to figure out what to serve for dessert (besides the pumpkin pie, of course). So my question today is what's your favorite dessert? My boys' favorite is called Death by Chocolate and involves layering brownies, Grand Marnier, chocolate mousse, whipped cream, crushed Heath bars and crushed pecans. And because today's prize is so fabulous, I'll leave this giveaway up until tomorrow night so everyone gets a chance. Be sure to leave a comment for a chance to win.

Winner of Giveaway #1

2010-11-16T11:56:00.003-06:00

Congratulations, Emmanuelle! Random.org picked your number. Drop me your snail mail and I will get it in the mail for you at the end of the week!

Giveaway #1: Unguarded by Tracy Wolff

2010-11-15T08:05:00.004-06:00

Hi everyone :) I'm kicking off giveaway week with a copy of my December book, Unguarded, which won't be available in the stores for another month. This is the third book in my Superromance series (following From Friend to Father and Beginning with Their Baby). It is Rhiannon's story (Matt's sister) and is my favorite of the series, if I'm being completely honest.

Rhiannon, if you remember, is a rape victim who has shut herself off from life since her rapist went free and her marriage fell apart. This is the story of her reawakening, of her coming back to the strong, confident woman she once was-- in the arms of a younger man. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it (though I admit I did cry in a couple parts).

Here's an excerpt for your reading enjoyment :) Let me know what you think!

Excerpt

"Rhiannon." Shawn rose and extended his hand, his blue eyes warm and his smile welcoming. "I'm so glad you could make it today."

"Me, too. I've been excited about hearing the details of this party you want to throw since you called the office on Monday." It wasn't a lie, she told herself, if she only told half the truth. She was excited about planning the party, so it was perfectly acceptable to leave out the fact that she'd been up half the night worrying about seeing him again.

Obviously, this was stupid, as he wasn't looking at her with anything more than polite interest—the same interest he would show any woman charged with creating a fantastic party so that he could impress a bunch of Hollywood types. She must have imagined the way he'd looked at her the other night—which wasn't much of a surprise. Her radar was way off when it came to men these days, and had been for much too long.

"I'm glad. I need someone who's excited about this thing, since I'm still trying to figure out how I feel about throwing a formal party."

She pulled out her laptop and booted it up so that she could take notes while they talked. "You don't like formal parties?" she asked, culling about half of the options she'd come up with that morning from the mental list she wanted to run by him.

"I'm more a beer-and-nachos kind of guy. But I figure if I'm going to do this, I need to do it right— formal, sit-down dinner, monkey suit, the works."

As if his way with words wasn't enough to clue her in, just looking at him gave her a good idea as to why the formal approach probably wasn't the way to go. With his shaggy brown hair and easy smile, Shawn Emerson looked like every footloose, slacker guy she'd ever run across—the kind who was more comfortable with a bat in one hand and a beer in the other than he ever would be in an office or behind a desk.

Even his meeting attire—a football jersey and a worn pair of jeans—screamed immature male out for a good time. It was just one of the many reasons she hated that her hand was still warm from where his had clasped it.

But then, she was an idiot when it came to men. Life had certainly proven that in the past three years.

"So, your usual party style is ultra-casual yet you're thinking about throwing a completely formal gathering?"

"It's actually my agent's idea. He thinks I should have a really impressive gathering, kind of knock those Hollywood types' socks off. I'm just trying to follow along with his suggestions."

"What's the occasion?" she asked, trying to gauge which direction he really wanted to go in. For some people, formal meant black tie, while for others, it was just a step or two above beach attire. She had him pegged for the latter.

"Endeavor Studios just optioned the rights to my graphic novels. They're rushing to write a script based on the first two with hopes of starting filming in about eighteen months if everything goes as planned. A bunch of the guys involved in buying my project are going to be here in Austin for the film festival in March, debuting a new movie and Anthony thinks I should have a no-holds-barred party to welcome them to Austin and show my appreciation. It's not every day a guy's told his character is going to be made into a major motion-picture franchise, after all."

So much for a step above bathing suits—she'd been wrong again. Big surprise. This guy was definitely in need of a party with a big wow factor.

But a huge Hollywood-style party meant pulling out all the stops and the film festival was only—she pulled the website up on her computer—six weeks away. He wanted her to do a major party like this in six weeks? Was he kidding?

Trying to get her thoughts straight, Rhiannon pulled up a list of questions she needed to ask, then turned to him with the first one. "Who is Shadeslayer?"

Shawn grinned, an excited, happy smile lighting up his whole face and causing a weird flip-flopping in the pit of her stomach. Rhiannon did her best to ignore the feeling—the guy was at least ten years younger than her—probably closer to fifteen. Just the idea that his smile was directed at her specifically was absurd, not to mention pathetic.

"I was hoping you'd ask." He reached down to the seat beside him and picked up a few thick comicbook-style novels that he slapped on the table between them. "He's the superhero I created when I was in college. Now, he's the star of my twice-yearly graphic novels."

She blinked at the garish covers staring up at her. All three had a strong, muscle-bound guy in a gray-and-black superhero suit looking out of them, although he was in a different kind of peril on each cover. The artwork was absolutely gorgeous, but— "You write comic books for a living?"

"Graphic novels. It's not quite the same thing."

"Right, of course." She couldn't help wondering what the difference was, but didn't want to ask, in case the question offended him. He had made a point of correcting her when she'd called them comic books, after all. "What does Shadeslayer do? "

"All kinds of things, but mainly he keeps shades— dead people who are trapped on Earth—from using their powers to enslave humans." He held the books out to her. "Here, take them. They're for you. I figured they'd give you a sense of who I am, what the deal was about."

"Oh, okay. That's very nice of you." She reached out to take the books, her hand trembling just a little as it brushed against his.

She had no idea what she was supposed to do with three comic books, but it was a sweet gesture. She opened the cover of the first one, began to flip through it and was shocked when she came to the title page. Scrawled between the title and his name, were the words, "To Rhiannon, because a party is so often just the beginning. Shawn Emerson."

She stared at the inscription a moment, unsure what to make of it. Were the words a threat? A promise? A suggestion? Her back stiffened and she closed the books without comment, even as she tried desperately to figure out Shawn's agenda.

"Do you like them?" he asked, and she looked up to find him watching her closely.

"Of course I do," she answered, ignoring the confusion inside that told her very clearly that she wasn't sure how she felt about the books—or about the man who had given them to her. "They're an interesting gift."

Interesting?Nice? Shawn barely suppressed a shudder. Obviously, he'd struck out big time with his gift—he'd been an idiot to think Rhiannon would be interested in his graphic novels. He almost hadn't brought them—he didn't give them away very often anymore, and rarely signed them now that he was no longer busting his ass on self-sponsored book tours to promote the things— but this morning he'd been struck by a sudden desire to show her what he did. To give her a glimpse of himself, and of Shadeslayer, the greatest character he'd ever created.

But from the way she placed the books on the table like they were a cross between poison ivy and rotting meat, he figured he probably should have gone with flowers instead—for some reason, women always seemed to like those more. Leaning back in his chair, he studied Rhiannon and tried to decide what kind of flower she was.

Not a rose, though she was long-stemmed, beautiful and surprisingly fragile, if the delicate hand she'd put in his was any indication.

Not a daisy, because she was much too quiet and self-possessed for the cheerful white-and-yellow flowers.

Carnations were boring, and while she was doing her best to blend into the woodwork in her bland gray suit and white blouse, he had a feeling she was anything but boring underneath. Not with those intense coffee-colored eyes and that fiery red hair.

No, carnations would never do—and neither would orchids. They were too temperamental. Which left him drawing a blank. He shoved the dilemma to the back of his mind, with a quick reminder to get back to it later after they'd talked more. Because he'd meant what he'd said when he'd signed those books—this party was just the beginning. He'd been thinking about her since they'd met Saturday night and couldn't wait for a chance to get to know her.

The waitress chose that moment to come up for their orders, and he watched as Rhiannon smoothed a self-conscious hand over the tight bun of her hair. He wondered if she ever let it down.

"You know, they make a killer margarita here. I'm partial to their plain ones, but Lissa swears by their sangria margaritas." He deliberately brought up the name of his best friend Robert's wife to put her at ease—Lissa was the one who had introduced them at the party the other night, and it had been obvious she and Rhiannon liked each other very much. "I swear, she can drink three or four of those in a sitting."

She stared at him. "It's one o'clock in the afternoon."

"One-fifteen, actually," he corrected her, reaching for a chip.

"Either way." Her voice was drier than the martinis his mother used to make—and gulp down by the half dozen. "I try not to drink during business hours."

"Right. Business. I can see that about you."

That got her attention. She looked away from the waitress, eyebrows furrowed, lips pulled into a deep frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just that you seem like a really responsible person." He barely succeeded in hiding his grin as Rhiannon's teeth snapped together with an all but audible click.

"Well, we can't all have the intellectual and emotional makeup of a thirteen-year-old boy. More's the pity."

"Touche." He inclined his head, offering her the verbal point. As he did, he let his eyes linger on her full upper lip and the dimple that kept flirting with her left cheek. He'd been fascinated with both from the first time he'd seen her—and the story they told.

Even at the party, she'd looked so prim and proper. Long sleeves, long skirt, blouse buttoned up to her throat. He'd wondered at first if she was channeling someone's maiden aunt. But then she'd opened her mouth and that voice—low and smoky and incredibly sexy—had curled around him. And he'd wondered how he could have ever failed to see the fire.

So, since Thanksgiving is coming up and fall is finally in the air here in Austin, Texas, I thought I'd ask-- what's your favorite thing about this time of year? I love the crispness in the air and drinking hot apple cider with my boys. Happy Monday!

Giveaway Week!

2010-11-15T08:02:00.002-06:00

Hi Guys! Long time no see, I know, I know. Suffice it to say there will be lots of wonderful Tracy Wolff/Tessa Adams/Tracy Deebs books hitting the shelf next year-- and I feel like I wrote them all this fall, LOL.

Anyway, lots of cool goodies have come my way lately, in regards to author copies, etc., plus a few of my dear friends have books coming out. So this week will be chock full of giveaways, including books from Beth Kery, Laura Griffin and Skyler White-- so stop by, leave a comment and be entered to win!!!!

Movie Monday: Easy A

2010-10-03T18:00:00.003-05:00

I know, it's been forever since I've done this, but I'm trying to be a good girl in October. It's my birthday month and all, so maybe I'll actually stick to my guns for once.

Anyway, the movie I wanted to talk about today is Easy A. Maybe it's all the YA romance I've been reading and writing lately or maybe it's my appreciation of Hawthorne's Scarlet Letter, but I loved this movie. It was so much fun to watch. Emma Stone is absolutely hilarious and the supporting cast does a brilliant job of keeping up with her (especially her slightly off-center parents and arch-enemy played by Amanda Bynes).

I laughed from the opening scene until the credits rolled and highly recommend the film to anyone who wants a fun, frivolous and surprisingly smart teen flick.

So, how about you? Seen any good movies lately?

Winner of Gift Card!

2010-10-03T17:59:00.001-05:00

Sherree,

Congrats on winning the $10 BN giftcard. Email me at tracy@tracywolff.com and I'll get it out to you.

It's Banned Book Week ...

2010-09-27T07:03:00.002-05:00

Ugh! It's Banned Book Week this week and I thought I'd post a link to some of the most banned books in the country:

www.publishersweekly.com/blogs/beyondherbooks

What drives me nuts is that some of the most popular books-- and some of the best books I've ever read-- are on the list this year (as they are most years). And the fact that most of them are objected to have to do with content appropriate for age group (Twilight, Catcher in the Rye, To Kill a Mockingbird, ttyl). Seriously?

Seriously?

Our kids can play M video games, see R rated movies loaded with violence, but they can't read a book with content that makes them think because it might corrupt them? Ugh! Really? And we wonder why our youth lack critical thinking skills ...

Anyway, I don't get on my soapbox often, but banned books are one of those things that bring out my inner ACLU member. How about you guys? How do you feel about this list? Are there any books on there that you enjoy? I challenge you to kick up your feet for a while this week and read or re-read one of the books on this list this week. Let me know which one you choose-- and why. There's a $10 gift certificate to BN in it for one lucky reader ...

Okay, I'm off to get the boys to school and then I think I'm going to curl up with one of my copies of Catcher in the Rye. I love that book!

Booksigning Today in San Antonio

2010-09-26T08:56:00.002-05:00

Hi everyone! Just thought I'd let you know that I'm signing books in San Antonio today at the La Cantera Barnes and Noble from 2-3:30 p.m I'll be signing with JK Beck, Farrah Rochon, Skyler White, Robyn DeHart and Sherry Thomas, so stop by and say hello if you get the chance!

What I'm Working On ...

2010-09-23T10:40:00.001-05:00

I'm playing around with an idea for a new YA, called Something Wicked. I don't have much to go on yet, but here's the prologue. I'd love to know what you think as I start to put the chapters together.

The Bath and Body Works Winner ...

2010-09-23T10:38:00.001-05:00

is lindseye! Kidlet #3 pulled your comment number out of a hat (okay, a tupperware bowl) this morning, so you win! Drop me an email with your snail mail and I'll get the lotion in the mail to you. Thanks to everyone for your well wishes. I very much needed-- and appreciated-- them!

I just might live ...

2010-09-22T08:39:00.002-05:00

Uggh! I have been suffering from the worst case of bronchitis I have ever had and it has been driving me nuts! Zapping me of energy when I most need it, making it impossible to concentrate-- something about the whole lack of oxygen thing-- and just wearing me out in general.

And while I've still got a road to recovery, I'm finally feeling like a human being again, which is very, very nice. And can I just say how much I hate preschool? I knew the sicknesses were coming once kidlet #3 started preschool, and sure enough, he's brought home three different bugs in 5 weeks. But this one that got me was, by far, the worst!

Anyway, to celebrate the fact that I no longer feel quite so terrible (what a thing to celebrate, LOL) I thought I'd give away some fun Bath and Body Works lotion. So leave a comment here-- telling me your best cure-all for a stuffy chest and/or pounding head, and be entered to win! Thanks so much, in advance. I can use all the advice I can get as the doctor said this thing will probably take a good two to three weeks to shake ...

I Got My December Cover ...

2010-09-16T07:59:00.005-05:00

... or at least I found it online and Barnes and Noble. This cover is for Unguarded, the third book in the From Friend to Father, Beginning with Their Baby trilogy. It is the story of Rhiannon (the sister of Matt from BWTB) and Shawn. Rhiannon is a 40 year old rape survivor whose marriage fell apart after her rapist was acquitted and who has spent the last two years trying to put her life back together. Shawn is a 29 year old graphic novelist who works hard to keep life as uncomplicated as possible ... at least until he meets Rhiannon. Drawn to her in a way he never has been to another person, Shawn deveops a friendship with Rhiannon with the hopes of it someday turning into more. Unguarded is that story, of how an emotionally and physically scarred woman can find her way to a new life and a new love. I've poured my heart into this book and hope you like it as much as I do.

Anyway, here's an excerpt. Let me know what you think!

“Come on. I have one more place to take you tonight.”

She started to ask him where they were going, then decided against it. Let him keep his surprise—the last one had been more than worth waiting for.

But when they stopped in front of a huge sports complex, she glanced at him, puzzled. “We’re going to watch a kid’s baseball game?”

“Nope. No game tonight.” But he went through the front gate anyway.

“Well, if there’s no game, then what are we doing here?”

“We’re going to hit a few.”

“Hit a few what?” she asked blankly.

“Balls.” His wicked grin was back, the one he’d used to convince her to plan his party and check out his house and go on this date with him. “We’re going to have a go at the batting cage.”

Of course they were. Because, really, where else would Shawn Emerson finish up a date but at a kid’s athletic complex? And how odd was it that she was actually excited by the prospect? It had been a long time since she’d put bat to ball—just about three years to be exact—and until they’d shown up here, she hadn’t even known she’d missed it.

“Come on. You can pick out a bat while I get us a cage.”

“You make it sound like we’re at the zoo.”

“That description isn’t as far off as you might think, especially on Saturday mornings.”

“Really? You spend enough time here to know that, hmm?”

“I coach a kids’ baseball team. Our games are here on Saturday mornings. So yes, I do spend more than my fair share of time here.” He winked, then headed off to the cashier’s booth at the front of the park.

She watched him go, bemused. Though she’d figured out that he was a big kid at heart, she never would have pictured Shawn as the type to donate his time to a kids’ baseball league. Yet, the more that she thought about it, the less it surprised her. His gentle, generous treatment of her had already convinced her he was a stand-up guy.

She walked over to the bats, ran her hands over a few as she waited for him to come back. But the sad fact was she wasn’t overly skilled at softball, never had been—even in school. Which meant that she had no idea what she was testing the bats for. Though some felt heavier than others, she didn’t have a clue which one would work for her.

When Shawn returned a couple minutes later, she had picked out a shiny blue and silver bat. “Is that the one you like the feel of?” he asked curiously.

“I don’t know. I picked it because it was pretty.”

“Not a big baseball fan, hmm?”

“I don’t mind watching it, but I think I was fourteen and in Freshman P.E. the last time I held a bat. I can’t say I’ve missed it.”

Shawn picked up a few bats, wrapped his hands around their bases and held them up as if he was actually going to hit a ball with them. “So, that’s what you meant by testing them?” she asked.

“Yeah. What did you think I meant?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t have a clue.”

“We’re going to change all that.” He held a bat out to her. “Here, try this one.”

“It’s not as pretty as the one I chose.”

“True, but the one you picked is meant for a ten year old kid. You’re a little too tall for it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Now come on. I promise to go easy on you.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“No doubt.”

But as Shawn led her to a nearby batting cage and cued up the ball machine, Rhiannon found herself looking forward to taking a turn at bat. While softball had never been her sport, she’d spent most of her life swimming and playing tennis. She hadn’t done either in the last couple of years-- hadn’t done much of anything to be completely honest-- and for the first time she found herself missing the thrill of physical activity. There was something to be said for the feel of well-used muscles at the end of a work-out session.

“Now, hitting a ball really isn’t that hard,” Shawn said as he lined her up directly across from the batting machine.

“They sure make it look hard in the Major Leagues.” She held her bat to her shoulder and got ready to hit.

“That’s because they’re trying to hit off professional pitchers. I’ve got the machine set on slow pitches, so you shouldn’t have any problem.” He took a step back, looked at her, then shook his head with a laugh. “Okay, you wouldn’t have any problem if you actually knew how to hold a bat.”

“I know how to hold a bat!” she exclaimed, insulted.

“If you say so.” He moved behind her, placed his hands on her hips. Her heart started beating triple-time, and the urge to flee—and to fight—was so strong within her that it took all her concentration not to act on it.

It’s okay, she told herself. It’s just Shawn. You’re safe. You’re fine. It’s just Shawn. He won’t hurt you. You’re safe. She repeated the words to herself over and over again until they became her mantra, the one thing she could hold onto as the world around her pitched and rocked.

“You’ll have a much better shot of hitting the ball if you turn a little more to your right,” Shawn continued, oblivious to her panic. She must be getting better at hiding the freak outs—six months before, there was no way anyone could have missed her as she started to lose it.

“Now, choke up a little on the bat ...” He continued speaking in a slow, easy tone that did more to ease her worry than anything else could have and by the time he finally moved away from her, Rhiannon not only had herself back under control, but she had a pretty decent batting stance as well.

“I’m going to turn the machine on now,” Shawn called as he headed towards the other side of the cage. “Just relax and let yourself swing at the pitches. Have fun.”

Squatting down like he’d told her, Rhiannon held the bat up and prepared to connect with the ball as the machine fired. She waited, waited, then swung right when the ball was in what Shawn referred to as “the sweet spot.” She waited to hear the crack of bat meeting ball, and was shocked when she realized the ball had hit the fence behind her.

“That’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Try swinging about one second earlier.”

She did as he suggested, and still the ball soared right by her. Again and again, until Rhiannon was sweaty and more than a little frustrated and Shawn was trying his best not to laugh.

“Maybe baseball’s not your game,” he said with a grin. “We can go do something else if you’d like.”

“Turn the machine back on,” she snapped. “I’m going to hit one of these balls if it kills me.”

“Are you sure? I didn’t mean to—“

She glared at him. “Are you going to turn that thing back on or am I?”

“All right. All right. But maybe you should loosen up a little, take off your coat. It’s a little tight and might be preventing you from swinging through.”

“Yeah, that’s what’s preventing me from hitting. My too-tight coat, not my completely abysmal lack of talent at the sport.”

“Still. Try it and see if it helps. God knows, it couldn’t hurt.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, even as she shrugged out of her coat and tossed it on the ground. “You know, payback’s a bitch.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

She added her suit jacket to the pile then grabbed the bat and got ready to hit, or rather to try to hit. “Go ahead. Turn that stupid thing back on.”

But Shawn didn’t move, didn’t so much as acknowledge that he’d heard her. Wondering what had distracted him, she followed his gaze with her own, then cursed under her breath as she realized that she was what had distracted him. Or at least her scars had. She’d gotten so caught up in the game that she had forgotten herself, had stripped down to the thin silk tank top she wore under her suit and now her scar-riddled arms were on display for the whole world to see.

For Shawn to see.

She waited for him to say something, to ask her how she’d damaged her skin so severely, but he didn’t say a word. He just stared at her for long seconds, his eyes cataloguing the damage. Then he turned away, flipped the switch on the ball machine.

“Get ready,” he said. “The balls will start in a minute.”

But how could she get ready when inside, she was imploding? Crumbling? He was the first person to see her scars in nearly a year, the first person besides her doctors and family—and Logan-- that she had ever let see them. How could she have been so careless? How could she have forgotten herself so completely?

A ball whipped past her, one she hadn’t even bothered to try to swing at.

“Rhiannon,” Shawn called, his voice unusually firm. “Swing the bat—you’re going to end up getting hit by one of these balls if you’re not careful.”

“I don’t want to do this any more,” she said, dropping the bat onto the astro turf. She knew she sounded like a spoiled child, but she didn’t care. Couldn’t care. All she wanted was to escape.

She reached for her suit jacket, shrugged into it quickly. It was stupid—the damage had already been done—but staying in just her shirt wasn’t an option. She was far too vulnerable that way. Far too exposed.

“Rhiannon.

She reached for her coat and purse. “Can we go?”

“Rhiannon.” He jogged over to her, tried to touch her but she shrugged him off.

“I have an early meeting tomorrow that I forgot about. I should get home and prep for it a little before bed.” She started walking away.

“Rhiannon, stop.”

“Stop what?” Her smile was brittle when she turned to him. “Stop talking? Stop caring about my job? Stop …” Her voice broke and she turned away, determined that she would not embarrass herself in front of Shawn any further.

He grabbed her elbow, turned her until she was facing him. “Stop pushing me away.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”

I Survived Tropical Storm Hermine!

2010-09-08T09:17:00.002-05:00

Sorry I didn't post yesterday, but Tropical Storm Hermine blew through my area and played absolute havoc with my internet service. But the worst seems to have past and except for a bunch of flooding in various areas (the gas station near my house is half underwater) things are back to normal.

Or as normal as they can get in my life, anyway, LOL!

The birthday party was a ton of fun the other day-- though it went on for 27 hours. Lunch and the movie were a huge hit, followed by a pinata, cake and ice cream, and a sleepover that didn't end until the last boy left at 3:00 the next afternoon. Whew! But my boys had a lot of fun and that's all that matters, right? Thanks so much for asking, everyone. I can't believe my babies are growing up so fast.

And thanks for filling me in on what's going on with you guys. I really did miss you this month and hope to keep posting regularly, as I love to hear from you. Glad everyone's doing well and wishing you all a wonderful school year (or rest of this year, if you don't have kidlets running around).

Other than that, I'm deep at work on one of my 2011 books, so I will write more when the deadline isn't hanging over my head like an albatross :)

And with no further ado, the winner of Rachel Caine's latest Weather Warden book is Blanche, who's comment number was picked by the birthday boy himself! Stop back again soon, though, as I'll have bunches of giveaways in the weeks ahead-- I brought back a bunch of stuff from nationals that I'm dying to send out into the world.

Happy Wednesday, everyone!

Yes, I am a Terrible Blogger

2010-09-03T05:46:00.002-05:00

I know, I know. I keep making promises not to disappear and then I ... disappear. Sorry. Suffice it to say that mothering three boys thru the last month of summer is ... exhausting? Insanity causing? Traumatizing? Hilarious? All of the above?

But the kidlets (read monsters) are safely back in school now, even my youngest who started preschool like the big boy he is (read hysterical tears from both my youngest and myself). Of course, this means I'm back to being a chauffer-- between tae kwon do, guitar lessons, art lessons, football practice, baseball practice and three different school on three different schedules ... I'm sure you get the drift. Plus, we just celebrated two birthdays and my husband is traveling pretty much nonstop for the next three months. Sound crazy, yet?

But enough about me. I've missed you guys. What have you been up to? What have you been reading? I just finished Dark Peril by Christine Feehan and Renegade by Lora Leigh, as well as a slew of YA novels by Elizabeth Scott. My new YA obsession, btw, is Rachel Caine. I've gone through all her Morganville vampire series and am now starting on her Weather Warden series. And since I'm an idiot who got carried away at B and N on Tuesday and bought two of her latest book, Total Eclipse, I thought I'd give one away. So leave a comment responding to this post by Sunday (when I will be in birthday party hell) and I will pick a winner.

Have a wonderful weekend! Oh, and if you happen to live in the Central Texas area, the fabulous Julie Kenner/J.K. Beck, Emily McKay and I are doing a joint booksigning at the Barnes and Noble in the Austin arboreteum tomorrow afternoon. Stop by and say hello :)

Off to Orlando

2010-07-27T00:09:00.003-05:00

Just wanted to let you know that I am on my way to Orlando for the RWA National Conference. I'll try to blog from the conference, but my schedule is pretty jam packed. If nothing else, I'll make sure to blog as soon as I get home-- and to include a bunch of pictures! Have a great week, everyone :)

I'm Blogging at Romance Bandits Today

2010-07-23T07:42:00.002-05:00

Hi everyone! I'm blogging over at www.romancebandits.com/blog today and giving away a copy of Dark Embers. So if you're still looking for a chance to win one, stop by and leave a comment!

Happy Friday :)

Just Got This!

2010-07-21T07:00:00.002-05:00

Lookee what I have! My first UK edition of a Superromance! Usually, my books go into printing in Australia and India, but this is the first one I've had in the UK. They showed up in the mail yesterday/ Leave a comment today and be entered to win a copy.

What I'm Working On Now ...

2010-07-19T16:54:00.002-05:00

I'm just starting a new project that may or may not ever see the light of day. It's an Urban Fantasy/Romantic Suspense mix that features a supernatural heroine whose gift is to see dead people. And whose day job is to have knives thrown at her in a traveling carnival ... Here's a quick excerpt. It's rough because I'm only at the beginning stages of the project, but I would love your feedback. It's so new that I don't even have a working title for it, so any suggestions for that would also be greatly appreciated ...

Prologue

I see dead people.
I know, I know, you’ve heard that before—but that doesn’t make the fact that I see them any less true. And, just so you know, when I say dead people, I don’t mean ghosts. Believe me, I’ve spent the last twelve years of my life wishing it was that simple.
But it isn’t. Because what I see is infinitely worse than your friendly, neighborhood ghost—or even your unfriendly, pissed off, happy or miserable ghost.
No, what I see is what is left behind when the spirit, the soul, the whatever it is that weighs that extra ounce or two scientists like to document, is gone.
I see the bodies where they’ve been dumped—raped, murdered, mutilated, burned, destroyed.
Forgotten.
I see the victims after violent death has claimed them.
And it is this picture that haunts me, this picture that is a razor blade inside me-- scraping, slicing, opening old wounds and new ones alike—until I find them.
Until I uncover them.
Until I make sure they are not, as their killers intended, lost forever.
It’s a shitty job, but someone has to do it. Too bad that someone is me.

Chapter One

My five-inch, sequined Jimmy Choos make a squishing sound as they sink into the water-logged earth of the forest and a sucking sound as I pull them back out to take another step forward. Squish, suck, squish, suck … I concentrate on the noise in an effort to keep myself sane.
This can’t be happening again. Why is this happening again?
It’s been nearly six weeks since the last-- I squash the thought like I would a particularly disgusting bug. I’m not ready to go there yet, not ready to acknowledge that that is what this late night foray into the patchy wilderness of North Austin is all about. But even as I refuse to give the thought purchase, even as I lie to myself, the truth niggles through.
Somehow, it always does.
The wind picks up, turning the heavy rain into whips that lash against me. It stings the bare skin of my arms and legs and not for the first time I wish I had taken the extra five minutes to change out of my ridiculous costume. After all, the hot pink and silver beaded leotard is the perfect attire for having knives flung at me-- there's not much for the blade to catch on-- but it leaves much to be desired when tromping through a wet, snarly forest at close to midnight.
But it hadn’t been raining when I’d started out, and I hadn’t realized just how far I would have to go before the compulsion would release me from its grip.

Besides, I have a show to do. Or at least I did. I’m not sure how much time has passed since I left my trailer planning to help Sebastian get his cats ready for their performance. The passing of time is a nebulous thing for me even on the best days and when I get like this— I pause, take a deep breath, try not to freak out as the world around me closes in. When I get like this, hours can pass in what seems like the space between one heartbeat and the next.
In an effort to get my bearings, I glance behind me, hoping that I am still close enough to see the merry sparkle of the carnival lights in the distance. But, like the sounds of Mikhel’s voice booming from inside the big top, they have faded into oblivion.
I am on my own.

But then, these days, I almost always am. It’s the curse of my gift. Or the gift of my curse—I haven’t yet figured out which arrangement of words is most accurate. In the end, I suppose it doesn’t really matter what I call this thing inside of me as long as I get the job done.

And so I keep walking, straight into the dark obsidian of the forest.
The storm is crazy loud out here, thunder booming and rain falling in torrents. Every once in a while lightning scrolls across the sky, illuminating the world I have walked so blindly into. More than once, between flashes, I have stumbled over shallow roots. More than once I have plowed straight into the thick trunk of a tree.
I put my hand to my head, where it still stings from my last close encounter with a branch. I wonder if I am bleeding—think that I probably am-- but the rain is coming down so hard and I am so wet, that it makes it impossible to tell.
I’m not normally so careless. I keep a flashlight in my purse and another one stashed in the drawer of the small desk in my trailer, for just such occasions. I’d even stopped long enough to grab one on my way into the forest tonight. But some time ago—I’m not sure how long—the batteries had petered out, leaving me alone in the inky blackness.

I should have gone back then, should have turned around and walked right back towards camp and the responsibilities I’d been doing my best not to shirk.
It’s what a smart woman would have done. But then, no one’s every accused me of being overly brilliant, especially when one of these compulsions is on me.
I nearly laugh, might have if I wasn’t so drenched, so miserable, so scared of what I might find. What I would find. After all, compulsion is a nice way to explain what I feel, a nice way to say that I’m a slave to the sensation that comes over me, that wraps itself around me, that invades my very soul until I know nothing but this.
Want nothing but this.
I wish I knew how to explain to you exactly what I experience at moments like these, but I don’t. God knows, I’ve tried to tell Aunt Sybil so many times through the years, that both of us are tired of the old argument.
But if I had to try to explain, had to try to tell you, I would say it is like someone has wrapped a wire pulsing with electricity all around my torso, has burrowed the end of that wire straight inside of my stomach so that every molecule of my being feels like it is being lit up, being burned, by thousands of watts of electricity with every breath that I take. And then it’s like someone starts to tug on that line, to reel it in—to reel me in-- yanking me closer and closer to destruction with each step that I take.
The more I struggle, the harder they pull-- which only makes me struggle more. It’s a vicious circle, one I have no hope of escaping.
I stumble onward, doing my best not to break my ankle out here in the middle of hell.
Suddenly the burn ratchets up a thousand volts, jangling every nerve ending I have. It sears my skin, my lungs, every organ in my body and I swear, if I hadn’t felt this same thing many times before, I would think that I was being struck by lightning.
It isn’t lightning that’s ripping through me, though. It’s the knowledge that I am close to the forgotten. So close that images of her last moments are ripping through my brain with the power of a jackhammer.
She fought hard, this one, kicking and screaming and struggling, while he raped her. She clawed his face, pulled his hair, bit at him until he slammed her head first into the wall. Then she didn’t fight anymore, even as he nearly ripped her apart.
For a second my own thoughts go cloudy, confused. There’s a ringing in my ears and a sickness in my belly that have nothing to do with my own situation and everything to do with hers.
This is what she felt like in those last few moments—disoriented, confused, in pain. So much pain.
I try to shake it off, try to concentrate on the here and now, but it’s impossible. Her agony is all-consuming and it hits me like a runaway semi, rips me right off my feet and sends me tumbling into the muck.
I gasp for breath, start to scramble back to my feet, but that invisible force has me pinned to the earth. It’s never been this bad before, never been so all-consuming that I actually experience what the victim did.
Fear rips through me, and as I feel his hands closing around my throat, I tell myself desperately that it isn’t real. That it isn’t happening—not now. Not anymore. I am not that poor girl and he, the monster who did this, is far away from this desolate dumping ground.
It almost works.
At least until lighting splits through the sky, so bright and all-consuming that it illuminates everything around me for one heart-stopping second.
The trees, with their long, leafless branches.
The large rocks strewn along the side of the makeshift path I have been wandering.
The huge mound of newly disturbed dirt that I am standing only inches from.
In that split second, as light fills up the world all around me, scorching my retinas and making me slam my hands against my eyes in protection, I know that I have found her.
Ignoring the agony ripping through me, I drop to my knees and begin to dig.

Thanks for taking the time to read the excerpt! Hope your Monday is going fabulously well!

From Friend to Father Winner

2010-07-18T13:21:00.002-05:00

Congrats! Cories is the winner of From Friend to Father, so drop me an email with your snail mail at tracy@tracywolff.com and I'll get it in the mail to you :)

Giveaway!!!!

2010-07-15T09:04:00.002-05:00

To celebrate this week's release of Beginning with Their Baby, I thought I would give away From Friend to Father (how's all that for alliteration?????) It's the first book in my Austin, TX trilogy (BWTB is the second one and the third one, Unguarded, comes out in December of this year). Since the first two books have babies in them, and I'm desperately trying to name my characters in my new book, I thought I'd ask-- what's your favorite name (for a baby or a character)? Leave a comment to be entered to win From Friend to Father. I'll choose a winner sometime tomorrow afternoon.

And here's another quick excerpt from Beginning With Their Baby, just because :)

“What are you stocking up for, World War Three?” Camille asked in amusement as Matt loaded their grocery cart with three different types of apples.
“I’ve got a busy week ahead—I don’t have time to come back here.” He dropped two heads of broccoli in a bag, then laid them gently on top of the apples.
“Yes, but I happen to have an almost completely open schedule this week—I can stop in and pick something up anytime.”
“Why would you want to?” he asked as he headed toward the dairy section. “It’s easier to just get whatever we need for the week in one trip.”
“But how do you know what you’re in the mood for all week? What if I suddenly get a craving for Fettuccini Alfredo on Thursday and all we’ve got is chicken and broccoli?”
He looked at her sharply. “Are you craving fettuccini?”
“No. That was just an example.”
“Are you sure?” He wheeled down the pasta aisle, pulled a box of the thick pasta off the shelf. “Because we can get some—"

“Matt, you’re missing the whole point.” She let out a disgusted sigh.
“No, I’m not. You don’t want to be tied down, even to something as basic as chicken on Thursday night.”
“It’s not about being tied down—it’s about not knowing what I’ll be in the mood for.”
“It’s about the fact that you can’t commit to anything more than forty-eight hours in the future.”
“I’ve committed to having this baby, haven’t I? And to living with you.”
“Yeah, but for how long?” Matt smirked at her, and though his tone said he was clearly teasing, the look in his eyes had an edge of seriousness that made her uncomfortable.
“You don’t really worry about that, do you? Me walking out?”
“Come on, Camille. Let’s just get the shopping done.”
“No.” She reached out, put a hand on his arm and felt the familiar zing as his energy rushed through her. When was she going to get used to it? To him? They’d been living together for almost a month and he still curled her toes whenever he looked at her. “I want to talk about this.”
He glanced around the busy supermarket. “Not now.”
“Why not now? If you’re really concerned—“
“Concerned? Shopping more than forty-eight hours in advance is too much commitment for you. Why wouldn’t I worry about you getting bored and taking off on me?”

She stopped dead in the middle of the aisle, tried to assimilate his words. “I wouldn’t do that, just take—“ She paused in mid-sentence as Matt skewered her with a patently disbelieving look. And she guessed she couldn’t blame him. She had left him high and dry once before—was it any wonder he thought she’d do it again?

But this was different. She was happy living with Matt, happy with the commissions she’d picked up to do portraits instead of having to struggle to sell her art on the streets of each brand new city. Her restless feet had lost their urge to run, and though she didn’t know how long it would last--- surely she’d get the itch to move on sometime—for once she was in no hurry.
It took her a minute to sort her thoughts out and by the time she worked herself around to what she wanted to say, Matt had already turned the corner on the next aisle and she was forced to rush to keep up with him.
It made her uncomfortable, was too reminiscent of her parents’ relationship for her to brush it off. She’d spent her whole adult life blazing new trails and she resented the fact that Matt expected her to follow him blindly, even as he was insulting her. She wasn’t some meek little housewife to follow behind her man, no matter what he said or did.
She watched as he turned yet another aisle, not even glancing behind him to see if she was following, and the little itch between her shoulder blades ratcheted up a notch. Turning on her heel, she walked in the opposite direction, toward the front of the door and then out the big, sliding glass doors at the front of the building. If she remembered correctly, there was a little jewelry and handbag place over to the right …
Camille spent the next few minutes browsing through purses and earrings, two of her favorite things. Though she only owned one bag—how many could she carry, after all—she’d had a love affair with earrings since she was a kid. She had a traincase full of the dangly, sparkly things.
Her cell phone rang as she was holding a pair of bright red chandelier earrings up to her ear, trying to get an idea of how they would look. For a second, she contemplated letting it ring, but figured there was no need to be bitchy. Surely, she’d made her point.
Fishing the small, purple phone out of her bag, she wasn’t the least surprised to see Matt’s number on the caller ID.

“Hello?”
“Where are you? I’ve searched the entire store for you.”
“I’m next door, at the accessory store.”
There was a long silence. “You’re where?”
She made sure there was a shrug in her voice when she answered, “You didn’t seem to need me, not the way you were blazing trails up and down the aisles.”
“You couldn’t tell me you were leaving?”
“I would have had to run to catch up with you.”
“And God forbid you should do that, right? Camille Araby doesn’t chase after any man.”

Again, leave a comment for a chance to win the first book in the trilogy, From Friend to Father :)

Exciting News!

2010-07-14T07:15:00.002-05:00

Wow! It's just been a week filled with exciting news. First off, I found out that thanks to all of you, Dark Embers debuted in the top 15 of a lot of the major book store lists (top 10 at BN, BGI, Bookscan, etc). So seriously, thanks so much! I really, really appreciate all your wonderful support.

And secondly, Woo-hoo, I just sold a second YA series that I'm writing with two friends of mine. It's called the International Kissing Club and is about four teenage girls from small town Texas who go out on exchange programs with the intent of discovering themselves and kissing as many hot, foreign guys as they possibly can. It's a fun, happy project and I'm excited to be working on it!

Have a wonderful Wednesday!

Release Day!!!

2010-07-13T13:38:00.002-05:00

Beginning With Their Baby hit the shelves today! Yay! And for those of you who have already found it and read it and sent me wonderful notes about it-- thanks so much! I really appreciate all your kind words.

Today I'm blogging over at the amazing and wonderful Nalini Singh's blog, so stop on by and comment for a chance to win Dark Embers! I'll be back tomorrow with another giveaway to celebrate Beginning With Their Baby!

Beginning With Their Baby

2010-07-09T07:28:00.003-05:00

On Tuesday, my fourth Harlequin Superromance-- Beginning with Their Baby--hits the shelves. It's a follow-up to my June 2009 book, From Friend to Father, and will be followed in December by the third book in the trilogy, Unguarded. Anyway, I'm excited about this release as I love Camille-- who was voted "most likely to sail around the world" by her graduating class. But all that adventurous spirit hides a wounded soul and uncovering hers to put on the pages was both heart-wrenching and rewarding for me.

Here's a quick excerpt to whet your appetite.

Prologue

“Do you have to go?”
A twinge of uneasiness worked its way down Camille Arraby’s spine at the words, though she continued to load her overnight bag. “My flight leaves in two hours—I’ve got to get to the airport.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Matt Jenkins climbed off the rumpled bed where they’d just spent another incredible night, and crossed to her.
She watched him prowl across the room, his long, lean, nearly naked form a truly beautiful sight this early in the morning. His dark auburn hair had fallen over his eyes and his too full lips were curved in the sexy grin she loved.
The twinge got a little more pronounced and for the first time that she could remember, Camille regretted the fact that she had to go. She wasn’t nearly as ready to leave Austin—and Matt—as she’d expected to be.
But Brazil—and Carnaval—were in full swing and they wouldn’t wait forever. Besides, it was better to walk away now, on a high note, than wait for things to sour as they inevitably would.
“So what did you mean?” she asked, lightly, as he circled her waist with his hands and pulled her close.
“I was asking you to stay.” He nuzzled her neck and she sighed, letting her head fall back as desire moved through her all over again.
“I can’t.”
His mouth moved lower, to the hollow of her throat, and she actually felt her knees tremble. “You can.”
“Matt. You knew all along I was leaving today.”
“I know.”

“So what’s the problem?” Her voice hitched as he flicked open the first two buttons of her shirt, ran his tongue over the curve of her breast.
“The problem is that when we made the deal, I didn’t expect that I’d want you to stay.”
“And now you do?”
He lifted his head so that his warm brown eyes met hers and Camille shuddered with unfulfilled desire. She’d never met a man like Matt, who could make her respond so effortlessly—and powerfully—to his lightest touch.
“Now I do.” He stroked the back of his hand down her cheek. “Stay, Camille. Please. I’ve never felt like this before and I want to see where it goes.”
“I’ve already given up my room and my job, already have my flights booked to Rio and then on to Italy.”
“You can stay with me for a while—and getting another one of those temp jobs of yours can’t be that difficult. You’ve been through three in the two months I’ve known you.”
For one long second, Camille let his words sweep over her. Let herself imagine staying here with Matt indefinitely—spending hours and days and weeks together, in bed and out.
Doing all those wonderful things couples did when they were falling in love.
The images that flashed through her mind didn’t send her running for the hills as they normally would have, and that—more than anything else could—had her taking a cautious step back.

Pulling free of Matt’s embrace, she turned back to her bag. Rearranged the items in it, once, twice. Made sure her favorite brushes and palette were safe from shifting during travel as she struggled for the right words to say. But nothing came and silent minutes dragged by as Matt waited patiently for her answer, not pushing her but not backing down either.
As she slid her make-up case to the bottom of the bag, Camille wanted nothing more than to run—as fast and as far as she could.
Wanted nothing more than to fling herself into Matt’s arms and stay until this thing between them burned itself out.
But doing that was only asking for trouble, only asking for entanglements. Already Matt had sneaked through a crack in her defenses and taken up residence in an untouched spot in her heart. If she stayed, his presence inside her would grow until she was no longer complete without him. And that was something she would never, could never, allow.
When she finally looked up at him again, Camille made sure none of her doubts—none of her longing—showed on her face. “I can’t stay, Matt. I was perfectly clear about the fact that I was leaving when we hooked up.”

“I know. But plans can change.”
“Not mine.”
“Bull.” This time when he grabbed her, his hands weren’t quite as gentle as they had been. Somehow, the edginess was just as arousing as the care. “Your plans change all the time. They change with the wind, with your whims. Why can’t you change them now? For me?”
“My plane tickets are non-refundable.” Her answer was flippant, but her heart was pounding hard and fast.
He cursed. “I’ll pay for the stupid tickets. I’ll pay for a hundred tickets if you’ll stay for just a little while longer.” His hands slid up her arms and neck until he was cupping her face. “Please, Camille.”
“Matt.” She shook her head, fought against the lump in her stomach that was growing with every word he said.
“Damn it, do you think this is easy for me? I’m not used to having to beg a woman to spend time with me.”
Of course he wasn’t used to begging—he was gorgeous and smart, and if not rich, certainly well off from his partnership in one of the city’s leading architectural firms. He was a prime catch—just one more reason she was determined to throw him back before he could do the same to her.
Before she broke her own rules and forgot why she couldn’t settle down.
Before she was the one pleading with him to stay.
“I don’t want this.” The words came out sharp, stilted.
“So what do you want?”

“To see Carnaval. To dance in the plaza and run through the streets with the parades. To visit the art museums and hanglide through the hills. I want to stand on the beach at dawn and watch the tide roll in.”
“Okay. All right.” He closed his eyes, ran a hand over his face. “Give me a couple days, let me rearrange my schedule and I’ll go with you. You’ll still see plenty of Carnaval.”
The twinge turned into a full-blown panic attack as she slung her bag over her shoulder. “Come on, Matt. It’s been fun, but we both know it’s time to move on—before things get messy and predictable.”
“They don’t have to—“
“Sure they do, sweets.” With a sassy grin, Camille reached up and patted her soon-to-be-ex-lover’s cheek. “That’s the way of relationships. Short and fun turns long and nasty, until both people wish they’d gotten out when the getting was good.”
His jaw clenched. “Do you really believe that?”
“I do. And so do you—at least you did six weeks ago, when we first met.”
“That was different.”
“Baby, it’s always different.” She started to say more, but a car horn sounded from the street in front of his house. “I’ve got to go. My cab’s here.”
“I thought I was taking you to the airport.”
“It’s still early—go back to bed.” Standing on tiptoes, she brushed her lips against his once, twice. Then gasped as his mouth turned frenzied on hers.

He kissed her like no one ever had—hard and hot and with a desperation that nearly overwhelmed her.
That nearly had her dropping her bag and following him back into bed, where he was so sure they belonged.
That nearly had her saying to hell with Rio and Italy and the world—she was more than content to stay right here, in Austin, Texas.
But then the horn sounded again and she was pulling away. Smiling at him. Walking out the door and reminding herself, with every step, of all the reasons she was doing the right thing.
After all, there was a big, bright world out there and in her thirty-two years she’d only managed to see about three-fourths of it. It was time—past time—to get started visiting the last quarter.

Have a great weekend!

Barnes and Noble Gift Card Winner!

2010-07-09T07:25:00.001-05:00

Lori (mctlover) is the winner of the $100 gift card supplied by Lauren and me. Congrats, Lori! Send Lauren and me both your information and we will get the gift card to you!

I'm Blogging Today ...

2010-07-08T09:34:00.002-05:00

I'm blogging at the Penguin blog today and at Silk and Shadows, where I'm giving away a copy of Dark Embers. Stop by and say hello for a chance to win!

And, if I can, I just want to take this opportunity to say thank you again for all the incredible well wishes and support you've given me these last few weeks. It means the world to me-- I really do have the absolute best fans, ever!

Lauren Dane Winner Day #15

2010-07-08T09:33:00.003-05:00

Sorry this is so late, but Lauren and I have been drowning under release day pressure along with deadlines (again!) The winner for Dark Embers from Lauren's blog is Bonnie Ferguson! Congratulations, Bonnie! Send me your info and I'll get it in the mail to you.

Release Day!!!!

2010-07-06T09:00:00.004-05:00

It's release day, finally!!!!!!!!!!!!! Dark Embers hits the shelves today and to celebrate, I'll be blogging all over the place in the coming weeks-- and giving away books-- so check back regularly.

Today you can catch me at:

www.authorsoundrelations.blogspot.com and www.myfriendamysblog.com so stop by and say hello if you have a minute.

And make sure to stop by later to check out who won the $100 BN gift card Lauren and I are giving away :) Have a great rest of the week and thanks so much for participating in the Take You to Another World Contest! I've so enjoyed reading everyone's answers to the Questions of the Day these last two weeks.

Grand Prize Winner!!!!!!!!

2010-07-05T23:59:00.004-05:00

Congratulations, Amy Kathryn! Your comment number has been selected from Random.org as the winner of my entire Tracy Wolff backlist, plus some cool swag and other goodies! So contact me at tracy@tracywolff.com with your info to claim your prize :)

Lauren Dane Winner Day #14

2010-07-05T18:59:00.002-05:00

Congratulations! Yesterday's winner of a paperback from Denise Agnew's backlist is...Glenna! Contact Lauren with your information to claim your prize!

Take You to Another World Contest Day #15: Lauren Dane

2010-07-05T07:29:00.003-05:00

Today, Lauren and I pulled a little switch. I'm over at her blog talking about Dark Embers and she's over here talking about Insatiable. Make sure to comment today for your last chance to win the Grand Prize bag of Tracy Wolff books and swag. It's also your last chance to comment for the mega prize, a $100 gift card to BN, from Lauren and me. We'll announce the winners tomorrow. Thanks so much for playing along with this contest for the last couple of weeks and come back soon!

What a fun two weeks this contest has been! Thank you to everyone who participated in the daily contests. There have been a lot of great answers and responses and of course now my TBR pile is even larger with all the guest authors and the recommendations from the commenters.

I'll be announcing the my grand prize winner at my blog today, so be sure to check to see who wins! My Grand Prize is: My entire Federation Series in trade paperback: UNDERCOVER, RELENTLESS and INSATIABLE along with the iTunes tracklist for INSATIABLE. As well as a digital copy of TRINITY and a digital ARC of REVELATION. I’ll toss in a signed tote bag, a LD water bottle and various and sundry other swagadelic stuff.

On top of that, Tracy and I are giving away a united grand prize that we'll announce at both blogs tomorrow - we'll take all the comments from her blog and mine and choose a winner from them!

So tomorrow, the third Federation Chronicles book and the first in the Phantom Corps mini-series - INSATIABLE-- will release. I'm beyond thrilled about this book - first because I have fallen in love with this futuristic world and I'm always pleased to revisit the characters, but also because the book has two unlikely characters as the hero and the heroine. Writing Insatiable was not a smooth experience. It was probably the toughest novel I've written so far because I wanted very badly to be sure the characters were exactly right.

Daniel was the easier of the two because I'd written him in RELENTLESS and I knew him better. But he's an assassin. He kills people and he does so knowing it's for a greater good. But I wanted to include that darkness in him. I wanted to not ignore the struggle that would have to exist inside any person who had a job like Daniel's. I wanted to do justice to the journey he took and to the way he worked hard not to lose himself to the darkness of it. To the sort of unfettered power he has.

And then there was Carina who is the hardest character I've ever written. Or, rather, the process of writing her as a character was the most difficult process I've had writing a book. I knew in my gut what I wanted her to be like. How I wanted her to experience Daniel and the events she went through. But it was easier to feel it than to get it right on paper. She's all sorts of things and I wanted that balance right or she could have been too much or too little and neither would have been right for her or for Daniel.

I wrote, waiting for her to unveil herself to me completely and it didn't happen until later in the process than it normally does so I had to go back and revise. But in that work I think I was truly able to know her and see her and grow to absolutely love her. And I think it makes her connection to Daniel come to life.

In other words, the work was hard but in the end, I truly believe it was worth it and as a result I find myself very proud of how it turned out. And really, I can't ask for much more than that.

So here's the cover again, because I love it so...

And the blurb:

Desire is the most dangerous sensation of all.
With tensions between the Federation and Imperial `Verses rising, one woman may hold the key to victory. The dangerous mission to smuggle her out of Imperial Territory falls to Daniel Haws and his team, the ultra secret Phantom Corps. This elite squad of the Federation Military is the only one trusted and skilled enough to remove her from under the watchful eye of her father, the Supreme Commander of the Imperial `Verses.

Carina is used to wearing a mask. Her father and his men think her little more than a pretty prize to be won by a man more ruthless than the rest. When he announces his intention to marry her to one of his henchmen, a man known for his cruelty, Carina knows she has to move as soon as possible to get out. But getting secret information to the Federation has served her well for years and she appeals to them for help.

She expected rescue from a man who'd been her enemy. But she wasn't prepared for just how intense her attraction to Daniel Haws would be. Born as adversaries into different ranks, and on the run for their lives, they now need each other to survive-by holding on to the only thing they have in common: a growing desire that is dangerous, irresistible, and insatiable..

Again, thank you all so much for playing along and to Tracy for doing this contest with me! I hope you all enjoy INSATIABLE. If you'd like to read an excerpt, you can head over to my website and check it out.

Make sure to comment on Lauren's fabulous new release for a last chance to be entered in the contest. And thanks so much for following the Another World contest with us!

Lauren Dane Winner Day #13

2010-07-04T14:31:00.002-05:00

Yesterday's winner of any book in Beth Kery's backlist (print or digital) is Kate Davies. Congratulations, Kate. Contact Lauren with your information to claim your prize.

Take You to Another World Contest Day #14: Skyler White

2010-07-04T10:40:00.003-05:00

My very cool friend Skyler White is here today, to give us a sneak peak into her new book, In Dreams Begin (cool title, right?) This is a fantasy novel heavy on the romance and if it is anything like her first book, and Falling Fly, it's guaranteed to be a kick-ass ride. In Dreams Begin isn't available until November, but you have a chance to win a copy of her debut novel, and Falling Fly, by commenting below.

Blurb:

“Close your eyes tightly—tightly—and keep them closed . . .”

“Every passionate man is linked with another age,historical or imaginary,where alone he finds images that rouse his energy.” W. B. Yeats

Excerpt:

Halloween Night, 1893, in Samois’s small graveyard . . .
In Paris, Halloween festivities would be mocking the rites and devils Ida and Maud hoped to make real tonight, in the little village of Samois. Through the provincial streets to its tiny cemetery, Maud had walked, a priestess or a secret witch cloaked and hooded with Ida, her familiar bird, wing-in-elbow beside her. But inside Georges’ little burial chapel, Maud shrunk to an Irish crone, her ritual robes a weathered shawl wrapped over curling shoulders and the hollowed-out hole where her heart had been, and Ida, her carrion bird behind her.
She plucked the pins from Maud’s hair. “Let’s prepare you,” she whispered.

Maud did not move while Ida’s pecking fingers unwound the braided skeins of rust and shadow. It slithered free over Maud’s shoulders, and she absently pushed back the strands snaking into her face. She caught Ida’s hand in an icy grip. “Ida, I’m frightened.”
Maud choked on the blood-scraped whisper, but Ida had heard, and her smile broke like a towering thundercloud. Maud’s deathbed promise to her father broken—to never to be afraid of anything, not even death—and Ida here beside her. She sank down beside Maud’s shuddering shoulders and wrapped her robe-winged arms around them. “Shhh,” she murmured, cheek in flowing hair, lips to sunken throat. “You must master your fear. There is no other way. The moment Lucien arrives, we must begin.”

Since Skyler writes about the difficult to understand, I thought I'd ask how you guys feels about it. Do you believe it is possible to travel through time and space? I've always been a huge fan of Einstein's Theory of Relativity and spend a lot of time imagining just what would be possible if we could travel the speed of light ... Happy Fourth of July!

Lauren Dane's Winner Day #12

2010-07-03T12:23:00.001-05:00

The winner of Shelli Stevens' Need Me is is Kylie!

The winner of an ebook from Shelli's Backlist is Anna Shah Hoque!

Congratulations, ladies. Contact Lauren with your information to claim your prize.

Take You to Another World Contest Day # 13: Helen Kay Dimon

2010-07-03T12:12:00.005-05:00

Today's guest is Helen Kay Dimon, who is giving away a copy of her March Release, Leave Me Breathless. Don't forget to answer the question at the end for a chance to win this smokin' hot book!

Blurb:

PERMISSION TO APPROACH

According to Judge Bennett Walker, trying to kill him is a dumb idea. They might make him wear a big black nightgown to work, but it covers a lot of muscles, and he’s definitely packing beneath it. He’s also an ex-prosecutor and an ex-GI Joe. So when his brother brings in Callie Robbins to protect him, Ben has a few issues. First, he doesn’t need a bodyguard. Second, she’s a 130-pound girl—more smoking hot than smoking gun. And third, what if his body wants her guarding the night shift?

Callie has no problem brushing aside Ben’s disbelief. She left the FBI to escape the boys’ club, but she can be deeper undercover and twice as lethal as any beefy John Doe. As for whether someone’s after Bennett or not, the death threats and car bombs look pretty convincing to Callie. Of course, she might get distracted, sitting inches from the sexiest judge in DC for ten hours a day. Keeping him safe is no picnic. Keeping it professional—that might be impossible.

Excerpt:

"I don't need a bodyguard." Judge Bennett Walker delivered his observation as he unclipped the top of his black robe and stripped the garment off his shoulders.
Callie Robbins had to fight hard to keep from rolling her eyes. Three denials in two minutes. Yeah, she got it. The big tough guy in the flower print tie somehow thought he could stop a bullet simply by pretending it didn't exist.
Gavel or not, she was not a fan of pigheaded stupidity, even if it did come in a six-foot-three package of smoldering eye candy. And this guy had the smoking hot thing down. A square jaw and light brown hair that fell in a soft line over his forehead were just the beginning of the impressive package. She'd heard about the broad shoulders he hid under the required work outfit. Watching his white shirt pull across his chest, she now could vouch for his linebacker form. Thirty-eight and sat on his butt all day but there wasn't an ounce of fat on the guy that she could tell.

Still, all of the idol worship surrounding him in the Circuit Court for Montgomery County, Maryland, struck her as overkill. From what she could tell, Ben Walker was a prosecutor-turned judge-turned-superstar in the uber-wealthy area north of Washington, D.C. He wielded a heap of power and had all of the female courthouse clerks scurrying around to catch a peek at him. But, really, he was just a man. And from Callie's one-hundred-twenty seconds of experience, a very stubborn one.
"If there's nothing else..." Ben let his voice trail off as he slid into his oversized leather desk chair.
Callie didn’t bother to respond to the not-so-subtle dismissal because he wasn't talking to her. Hell, he hadn’t even sent a small glance in her direction since she'd dodged his gaggle of admirers in the outer office to follow him into his private chambers. No, the judge saved all of this wrath and attention for the other man in the room, his older brother by one year, Mark Walker.
"This isn't up for discussion, Ben." Mark said in a clear attempt at reason. "You have a target on your back."

"I'm not the one in danger."
Mark shook his head. "Your job is to rule on cases. Leave the law enforcement decisions up to me, will 'ya?"
Callie knew Mark could handle the worst. He had turned his tenure at the FBI into a position with an undercover division within Homeland Security charged with protecting high profile targets in the D.C. metro area. Callie wasn't sure what the job entailed, but she knew it was a big one. The kind where her record would likely disqualify her for regular duty, which explained why she was an independent contractor doing Mark a private favor on this job.
Since the judge hadn’t acknowledged her presence except for a brief nod after Mark's introduction, she decided to force the issue. She was standing right there next to the judge. Hard to imagine he could miss her, what with his big brain and all.

"Did you forget the part where someone blew up your car?" she asked.
Silence slammed through the large room. For a second, nothing moved. Callie was pretty sure even the wall clock stopped ticking. Then the judge turned in his seat and glanced up at her with a blank expression. "Hard to do that since it burst into flames about ten feet away from me."
"A smart guy would take that as a sign," Mark said.
With that, the judge went right back to talking to his brother. "Emma was the target, not me."
The long breath eased from Callie's chest. Something about having the man's sole attention turned on her made her nerve endings jump and twitch. An odd shakiness flooded through her. And she didn't like it one bit.
She watched the brothers argue, marveled at how different two men who were raised in the same household could be. Mark sounded reasonable, smart, focused. The judge came off as a pompous jackass. Attractive in a make-your-eyes-cross kind of way, but still a pompous jackass.

He tried to put her in her place by pretending she barely existed. She had seen the tactic before. A woman didn’t rise in the ranks of the FBI without throwing a few elbows. Sure, she'd thrown one too many, which explained why she was here without her badge instead of sitting behind her desk in an office nearby, but she could fight back. If the good judge wanted attitude, she could shovel plenty of it right on top of him.
"Look, Your Honor," she said in the least respectful tone she could muster. "Your girlfriend has security protection. You've refused it. From what I can tell, that makes her the smarter of the two of you."
He smiled. "Emma Blanton is not my girlfriend."
Not exactly the response Callie expected, but at least he finally bothered to stare at her for more than two seconds. And without throwing her in jail, that had to be considered a success. "You and your girlfriend would be barbeque right now except that the bomb went off too early."
Ben folded his hands together in front of him on the desktop. "True, but she's still not my girlfriend."

Talk about fixating on the wrong point. "Fine. What do you want me to call her?"
"You could try Judge Blanton." Ben glanced at his brother. "And the bomb was meant for her."

Question of the Day: Since it's the Fourth of July weekend, I thought I'd ask if you have any plans for it? Family, friends, fireworks, anyone? We're sticking close to home, but I am having a few friends over and making my mom's famous potato salad and barbecue chicken tomorrow afternoon. Other than that, we're hanging by the pool and the boys are doing yard work while I write blogs for my blog tour that kicks off next week.

Lauren Dane's Winner Day #11

2010-07-02T11:00:00.001-05:00

The winner of Michelle Pillow's Realm Immortal series (digital) is: Kris! Congratulations and be sure to contact Lauren with your information to claim your prize.

Take Me to Another World Contest Day #12: Shiloh Walker

2010-07-02T07:01:00.003-05:00

The wonderful and talented Shiloh Walker is here today, giving away a copy of The Missing, which is being reissued in mass market. If you haven't read this book, make sure you comment. It's the first book of Shiloh's I ever read, and it made me fall in love with her writing. The main character, Taige, is such a strong, sympathetic character that she stayed with me long after I finished reading the book.

Blurb:

LOVE LOST
As a teenager, Taige Branch was able to do things with her psychic gift that others couldn’t understand—except for Cullen Morgan, the boy her stole her heart. He did his best to accept her abilities, until his mother was brutally murdered—and he couldn’t forgive Taige for not preventing her death.
PASSION FOUND
Now a widowed father, Cullen Morgan has never forgotten Taige. But what brings her back into his life is another tragic event. His beloved little girl has been kidnapped, and Taige is his only hope of finding her.
A LOVE THAT NEVER DIEDWorking together against the clock, Cullen and Taige can’t help but wonder whether—if they find his daughter in time—it isn’t too late for the overpowering love that still burns between them…

Excerpt:

After all these years . . . she’d known she’d see him again. Even when she drove away from Cullen Morgan’s home in tears, she’d known it wasn’t over between them.
Why he was coming to her now, she didn’t know and honestly, just then, she didn’t care.
She was so desperate to see him again, it was almost pathetic.
No, it was pathetic. It had been twelve years, and she was all but panting at the thought of seeing him, of staring into those amazing eyes and standing close enough to smell him. How much had he changed? Taige wondered. Instinctively, she knew that Cullen would be as devastating at thirty-three as he’d been at twenty-one. The truck came to a stop close to the house. She couldn’t see anything beyond the back bumper, and when the taillights went off, she jerked as though somebody had used a Taser on her.

She took a deep breath and then groaned as her shirt dragged against her nipples. They were stiff and erect, throbbing under the thin layer of cotton. Embarrassed, she folded her arms over them and wished she could manage to get a damn bra on. Her hand hurt too much to manage it, though.
Facing Cullen braless and in her bare feet: how much more disconcerting could it get? She held herself stiff as the knock came, pounding on the door as though he wanted to tear the door from its hinges. It came a second time, and third. Finally, she made herself move, shuffling through the dark living room with her arms crossed over her breasts, the wrap on her cast abrading the bare skin of her left arm and rubbing against her nipples.

Nerves jangled in her belly. No butterflies; this felt more like she had giant gryphons taking flight inside her, gryphons with knife-edged wings. She reached out and closed her left hand around the doorknob and slowly opened it, half hiding behind the door. She kept her gaze focused straight ahead so that all she saw was the way his white T-shirt stretched across his wide, muscled chest.
Through her peripheral vision, she saw that he held something in his hand. Something clutched so tight, his knuckles had gone white. She hissed out a breath and forced herself to look upward, up, up, up until she was staring into his eyes. It took a little longer than it should have; he was taller than he had been. At least by an inch. She was five foot ten—she didn’t have to look up to many people, and she decided then that she didn’t care for it at all.
“Taige.”

She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Her throat felt frozen, and forcing words past her frozen vocal chords seemed impossible. She just stepped aside to let him come in, and when he did, his arm brushed against hers. She flinched and pulled away, backing away until a good two feet separated them. Once he was inside, she closed the door and leaned against it, resting her left hand on the doorknob and holding her right hand against her belly and studying the fl oor.
He turned to stare at her. From under her lashes, she watched as his shoulders rose and fell, his chest moving as he blew out a harsh breath, almost like he’d been holding his breath the same way she had.
“God, Taige . . .”
Shoving away from the door, she kept her head down as she moved around him and headed into the living room. He followed behind her slowly. She heard a click, and light flooded the room. She shot him a look over her shoulder, just a quick glance, enough to tell her just how dead-on her dreams had been.
“So, are you going to look at me or just let me stare at the back of your head all night?” he asked softly.

She shot him another quick, almost nervous glance over her shoulder, and Cullen blew out a breath.
When he spoke again, his voice was closer. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m here?”
Aren’t you going to speak to me at all? Cullen wanted to ask.
Instead, he waited until she finally turned around and faced him. In the brightly lit room, he noticed two things. The first was that she had her arm, her right arm, in a cast that went halfway up to her elbow. A chill raced down his spine. The second was that her left eye was puffy and nearly swollen shut, a dark, ugly bruise that Cullen suspected was every bit as painful as it looked.
“I already know why you’re here. You need my help.” A bitter smile curved her lips as she stared at him. “Why would else would you be here?” She glanced at the file in his hand and held out her hand.
Cullen swallowed and lifted it, staring at it with the metallic taste of fear thick in his mouth. “You don’t owe me a damn thing, Taige. I know that. I’ve got no right being here, and I know that, too.”
She sighed and dropped her head, covering her eyes with her uninjured hand. “Cullen, stop. You want something. Out with it. I’ve got better things to do than stand here and have you brooding all over me. So just spill it.”
“I . . . look, if I didn’t have to have your help, I wouldn’t be here. But it’s not me that needs you—just . . . just don’t—”

Taige cocked a brow. “You don’t have much of an opinion of me, do you, Cullen? Whatever brought you here in the middle of the night twelve years after kicking me out of your life has to be pretty damn important, and considering the kind of help you probably need, I’m going to assume there’s somebody else involved.” She stared at him, her gaze shuttered. “You think so little of me that I’d refuse to help whoever this is just to make you suffer because you and me got some history?”
History . . . Is that what we had?

Question of the Day: How do you feel about reunited lover books? Some authors never write them, some authors always write them. Do you like books about lovers who have been separated for years and then find their way back to each other or do you prefer ones where they meet for the first time on the page?

Lauren Dane's Winner Day #10

2010-07-01T19:09:00.002-05:00

The winner of Anya Bast's Wicked Enchantment is Heather S! Congratulations and contact Lauren with your info to claim your prize.

Take You to Another World Contest Day #11: Shayla Black

2010-07-01T08:22:00.003-05:00

Most of you know Shayla's a friend of mine, and judging from the response to her erotic suspense, Delicious, you know she's a really good writer as well. Today, she's here to talk about Entice Me at Twilight, book four in her Paranormal Doomsday Brethren series, and if you haven't tried this series yet, you're seriously missing out. Leave a comment below for a chance to win Possess Me at Midnight, book three in the series.

Blurb

In national bestselling author Shayla Black’s electrifying new novel, the Doomsday Brethren fight their mortal enemy for the newest weapon in a bloody magical war: the only woman a magical warrior shouldn’t claim…and the one he can’t resist.

Dangerously handsome Simon Northam, Duke of Hurstgrove, and his uptight barrister brother hardly get along, but crashing Mason’s wedding and stealing his fiancée take sibling rivalry to a new level. Duke’s family knows nothing of his magical prowess or the Doomsday Brethren, so how can he explain that mankind’s fate lies with the beautiful, tenacious bride he longs to seduce for himself?

Felicia is an Untouchable, a rare human whose presence disables magic—even the impenetrable forces surrounding Morganna le Fay’s tomb. The evil witch’s malicious powers could propel nefarious wizard Mathias to ultimate world domination . . . if he can resurrect her. To conceal herself, Felicia must heed her simmering desires to mate with Duke, but he risks binding his life—and sanity—to a lover whose loyalty may be forever torn. He faces a terrible choice: betray his brother for ultimate survival . . . or lose the woman who tempts him beyond control.Excerpt
Duke had walked perhaps twenty meters down the corridor when the flock of young beauties darted for him again. He groaned. Not now…

Excerpt
Through the window behind him, a flash bulb went off. Paparazzi, damn them. Duke had little doubt these images would appear on some tabloid or another come morning.
At his side, Ice chuckled. “Right hell to be so popular. Are these the same girls who surrounded you earlier?”
“I think.” He hadn’t looked that closely.
Searching for a gentle but insistent way to throw them off, Duke said, “Ladies, there will be plenty of time after the—”
One pressed her lips to his, cutting him off in mid-sentence. Another stepped behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle, then whispered exactly what she’d like to do to him if only they had a bit of privacy—and she wasn’t shy. The rest swarmed around, not allowing him an inch of air.
Bloody hell! Not that he hadn’t experienced such unladylike behavior before, but at his brother’s wedding, steps outside the chapel?
As he tried to jerk free, someone shoved the women aside with a feminine growl, then grabbed him by the arm and whirled him around. Felicia, in white lace, surrounded by a halo of golden curls. And she looked furious.
“Every time I see you, you’ve surrounded yourself with panting women. Are you mad or simply unable to control your libido for a few minutes? I’m attempting to have an important conversation and your behavior is disruptive. I don’t know how your mother or brother abide this.”

She sent a severe scowl to the women still hovering about, trying to gain his attention. “You all have seats somewhere. Find them!”
The women backed away—though not happily. At the moment, Duke could have kissed her for freeing him. Hell, he wanted to kiss her anyway. Deeply. Lips, tongues, clothes dropping to the floor as he lowered her to the bed…
No, I must not think that about Mason’s bride.
“You will not embarrass Mason or your mother this way,” Felicia vowed in a low-voiced breath. “This stops now, or I’ll throw you out myself.”

Too bad Duke was too distracted by the fact that, this close, he could see the glistening of Felicia’s pouty red lips under their gloss…and right down the front of her gown to the sweet swells of her breasts. Heat ripped through his blood. Need compelled him. Grab her. Take her. Possess her. The words were a chant in his brain, loud and getting louder until he could scarcely remember why he was resisting.
Honor. Family harmony.
Damn it. He sighed.
Felicia gripped his elbow tighter and pursed her plump lips in displeasure. Bloody hell, she smelled like gardenia and female. Duke only got harder. Blast it, he hoped his dinner jacket covered that. Somehow, he had to keep his hands to himself…

Question of the Day: I love couples whose chemistry literally sizzles on the page and work really hard to write those kinds of relationships in my own books as well. So I thought I'd ask what some of your favorite couples are from romance novels: Some of my favorites are Ranger and Stephanie (Evanovich), Adam and Mercy (Briggs) and Blue and Dean (SEP). Leave a comment for a chance to win Possess Me at Midnight.

Lauren Dane's Winner Day #9

2010-06-30T15:22:00.000-05:00

The winner of the Juliana Stone prize is Marlene Breakfield. Congratulations! Contact Lauren with your information to claim your prize.

Take You to Another World Contest Day #10

2010-06-30T09:23:00.003-05:00

Today, Jaci Burton is here giving away a copy of her fabulous new book, Riding the Night. I've been a huge Jaci fan for years, so it's a thrill for me to have her here at Love Musings-- she's a terrific writer and a wonderful person. So leave a comment below for a chance to win.

Blurb:

AJ and Pax work together as undercover operatives for a government agency of bad-boy bikers known as the Wild Riders. And though they play as hard as they work, both men are looking for the one woman who can tame them…

On vacation, AJ and Pax run into AJ’s high school sweetheart, Teresa. While they’re catching up at Teresa’s bar, a fight erupts between two biker gangs, leaving one man dead and Teresa’s brother wrongly accused of murder. With no proof and Teresa as the only eye witness, the trio points their Harleys toward the annual bike rally in South Dakota in hot pursuit of the real killer…

Her life in jeopardy, AJ and Pax become Teresa’s fierce protectors. But a past trauma keeps Teresa guarded, unable to trust them--until AJ and Pax uncover her secret and vow to do anything to help her heal. And in their arms she discovers a sensual desire that knows no boundaries, a passion strong enough to overcome her tragic past and awaken a force that brings both men to their knees.

Danger may temporarily bind the three together, but it’s their shared passion that will lead them to the ride of their lives: love.

Excerpt:
Dawn hadn’t filtered yet through the blinds on Teresa’s windows, only shades of gray announcing it was morning but too early to get up.
It didn’t matter. She hadn’t slept much anyway, had tossed and turned, wondering what Pax and AJ were doing, coupled with random thoughts about the bar fight, what she’d witnessed, and her worry about Joey’s welfare. None of that added up to the ability to get a restful sleep.
She took a shower and got dressed, opening the bedroom door and moving into the living room, surprised to find both the guys there. AJ was asleep on the sofa, Pax sitting in a chair near the front window. He turned to her and smiled, grabbed the pistol sitting on the table next to him and slid it into his pants.

For some reason, knowing they were armed comforted her. Besides, there was something sexy as hell about a guy carrying a weapon who knew how to use it. Not for show or to look tough, but because it was part of his job.
“Heard anything from the police station yet?”
Pax shook his head. “Nothing, but it’s early.” He came over to her, brushed his knuckles along her cheek. “Too early for you to be awake. You didn’t get much sleep.”
She took a step back, not used to the little thrill that shot up her spine at his touch. She liked it, which made her uncomfortable as hell. “I’m fine. I’ll go make coffee.”
“It’s already made.”
“It is?”

“Yeah. I brewed a pot a little while ago. Go kick the couch and wake up AJ. I’ll start breakfast.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
He gave her a look over his shoulder, and a smile that made her toes curl. “I want to.”
A guy who made himself at home in her kitchen. That was also a little disconcerting. And comforting. And sexy.
It had been five years. And maybe it wasn’t freaking her out as much as it used to. She’d wanted to get back in the game again for a long time now. She was tired of being afraid, of letting what had happened rule her life. She wanted to be a woman again, and damn if she was going to let those guys ruin her. Every man wasn’t like they had been.
Every guy wasn’t going to hurt her. And maybe every guy wasn’t going to run away when he found out the truth about her.

She moved over to the sofa. AJ was too big for her average-sized couch. One arm was slung over his head, his booted feet hung over the edge of the arm. Beard stubble peppered his jaw, making his face look dark and ruthless. AJ had never been ruthless. A bad boy, yes, but he’d always been the fun kind of bad boy.
And he’d never hurt her.
Once, he’d loved her. And she’d loved him. But that love hadn’t been enough to keep him out of trouble. They’d just been kids, on the verge of adulthood. Neither of them had known what they were doing back then. It had been innocent and intense, as all teenage romances are.
Ten years later she still didn’t know what she was doing. Nor did she know who AJ really was now, other than he was one of the good guys.
She smiled. She liked that he was one of the good guys. It suited him. But he still carried an edge of danger that fit him well, too.
“You’re staring.”

Startled, she jumped back, realizing he’d moved his arm and his eyelids were partially open, revealing smoky grays studying her. She tried to calm her racing heart. Goddammit, when was she going to relax? “Sorry. I debated waking you.”
“I was already awake. Pax walks like a herd of elephants.”
“Fuck you,” Pax said from the kitchen.
AJ sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the sofa and planted his feet on the floor. “Plus, I smelled coffee.” He dragged his fingers through his hair, winked his sleep-laden gaze at the window, then turned his attention on her. “It’s still dark out. Why are you up?”
“I slept enough.”
He tilted his head to the side, examining her with his intense gaze, then stood, came closer. He reached out and grasped a strand of her hair in his hand. He held it light, not demanding, just let it sift through his fingers, his gaze focused on her face. “You look tired.”
She inhaled, let it out on a shiver of awareness. What was it about these guys that got to her, that made her so cognizant of them as men? Her usual wariness was absent when they were around, the blocks she put up nonexistent. She knew AJ, but he’d been gone a long time. She didn’t know Pax at all. And yet she’d let them stay in her house last night.
None of this made sense. She was usually a lot more guarded.

“Who’s hungry?” Pax called from the kitchen.
AJ’s lips curled in a way that made her stomach tumble and heat flush her skin.
“I’m hungry,” AJ whispered, so only she could hear.
He let go of her hair and walked away.
Her heart was pounding and her palms were sweaty. But it wasn’t from fear.
She took a full minute to get her body and emotions under control, then went into the kitchen to join Pax and AJ.

Question of the Day: I think Pax is a fantastic heroine, which gave me the idea for today's question. Who are some of your favorite heroines in romance novels? I really like Xhex from Lover Mine, Eve Dallas from Nora's Born in series, Mercy in the Patricia Briggs series, and Mercy from Nalini Singh's Psy/Changeling series.

Lauren Dane's Winner Day #8

2010-06-29T10:51:00.001-05:00

Congratulations! The Day 8 winner for Beth Williamson's Unbridled is comment #4, loto Contact Lauren with your information to claim your prize.

Take You to Another World Contest Day #9: Laura Griffin

2010-06-29T08:38:00.003-05:00

My guest today is a very dear and very talented friend. Since bursting on to the Romantic Suspense scene four years ago. Laura has wracked up a number of awards for her dark and intriguing novels, including a nomination for a Rita this year. She'll be giving away a copy of Unspeakable, which hits stores today, so leave a comment for a chance to win. Happy Release Day, Laura!

Blurb:

ELAINA MCCORD WANTS TO FIND A KILLER.
BUT HE’S ALREADY FOUND HER.
Elaina McCord’s dream of being an FBI profiler is in danger with her first case—investigating a string of murders near a Texas beach resort. The victims, all young women, were drugged and brutally murdered, their bodies abandoned in desolate marshland. Elaina’s hunch—met with disbelief by local police—is that these are only the latest offerings from a serial killer who has been perfecting his art for years, growing bolder and more cunning with each strike.

True-crime writer Troy Stockton has a reputation as an irresistible playboy who gets his story at any cost. He’s the last person Elaina should trust, let alone be attracted to. But right now Troy, along with the elite team of forensics experts known as the Tracers, are her only allies in a case that’s turning dangerously personal. A killer is reaching out to Elaina, taunting her, letting her know how ruthless he is and how close he’s getting. Now it’s not just her career that’s in danger—it’s her life. . . .

Excerpt
Troy Stockton’s boat was flat and narrow, and looked nothing like the other flat, narrow fishing boats living at the Lito Island Marina.
“It’s black,” Elaina said, gazing down at it from the dock.
“So?” He undid the bow line and whipped it into a neat coil, which he tossed on the boat’s floor.
“So, all the other boats are white.” She stepped aboard. Everything shifted, and he caught her arm to steady her.
“No law against black.” His hand dropped away, and he turned to flip some switches at the helm. Soon the engine grunted.
“Looks like it can go in pretty shallow water.”
“Eight inches,” he said with a touch of pride.
She looked around for a good place to stand. There weren’t many choices, so she rested a hand on the captain’s chair as they eased back out of the slip.
“Hold on.” He shifted gears, and then they were gliding in the other direction, moving out of the sheltering cove the marina shared with the police dock. Elaina glanced over her shoulder and watched the pier recede. She was going out on a boat with a man she barely knew, without letting her boss or anyone else know what she was doing. Not terribly smart.
She patted her back pocket, where she’d tucked her cell phone. While Troy had waited out on the patio at her hotel, she’d showered and changed into the jeans and T-shirt she kept stashed in her gym bag. Her Glock was strapped to her ankle, just above her Nike. She had her phone. And if Troy tried anything funny, he was going in the bay.
Elaina shifted, putting some distance between them. She couldn’t explain why he made her uneasy, but he did. It made no sense, because she spent every day surrounded by macho types—guys trained in firearms, and hand-to-hand combat, and mind games. As a border town, Brownsville attracted more than its fair share of gun-loving lawmen. Since day one, many of the Bureau, DEA, and Homeland Security guys had attempted to intimidate her either physically or by getting in her head, and she’d learned to blow them off.
But Troy was harder to ignore.
He stood between the helm and the captain’s chair, and she stood beside him, trying not to cling too tightly and reveal her fear of toppling out of the boat. She glanced over and noticed his ropey forearms and powerful-looking calves. He was some sort of athlete, obviously, and she tried to guess the sport.
“You get seasick?” Troy asked.
“No. Why?”

“You look uncomfortable.” But he wasn’t even looking at her. Those eyes—which were the exact green color of the bay—were trained on the southern horizon. He wore cargo shorts today and Teva sandals. His white T-shirt contrasted with his sun-browned skin, and she envisioned him on a surfboard.
Why was she even thinking about this? She needed to focus on the case, not Troy Stockton. The man had a reputation. It was coming back to her in bits and pieces. She didn’t usually read celebrity mags, but she had a vague recollection of the People she’d flipped through at her dentist’s office. Troy had been photographed with some gorgeous starlet. That girl from Corpus Christi. What the hell was her name?
“That was some profile you came up with.”
She cut a glance at Troy and saw the smile playing at the corner of his mouth. She bristled.
“What do you mean?”
“White male. Likes hunting and fishing. Owns a boat. Sounds like half the men on this island, including me.” He stared down at her, serious now. “Except for the getting-it-up part.”
Elaina felt a blush creep up her neck. “Look, Troy—”
“Here we are.” The boat slowed abruptly as he pulled the throttle up, and she stumbled into him. “She was found just over there,” he said.
Elaina looked in the direction he was pointing, but saw nothing unusual. Just more grass and water.

“How do you know?”
He tapped his control panel, and she noticed the GPS. “I got the coordinates.”
He got the coordinates. From the police, no doubt, who clearly were sharing information with members of the public, but leaving her completely in the dark.
“They got a good set of prints from the victim yesterday night.” Troy veered close to the shoreline, and the water was so shallow, Elaina could see grass on the bottom. “They’ll run the thumbs through DMV, hopefully get a positive ID soon.”
Elaina thought of Valerie Monroe, who’d graduated third in her class at Baylor med school and recently had been accepted as an intern at Texas Children’s Hospital. She wondered what Valerie’s parents were doing at this moment, although she figured she knew. Most likely they were either en route to Lito Island or camped out at the police station, waiting for news.
Troy veered left into a narrow inlet.
“We’re going in?”
“You want to see it, don’t you?”
“Yes, but…” she watched him deftly steer the boat through the tight opening. The water wasn’t even a foot deep, and she saw ripples in the sand as they skimmed along the surface. “What if we run aground?”

He smiled. “You get out and push.”
But they didn’t run aground. He tipped up the engine and slowed down, using just enough speed to maintain control over the steering as they maneuvered this way and that through all the channels. She began to doubt that he really knew where he was going. Maybe he was leading her to some generic patch of marsh.
She spotted something yellow tangled in the reeds. “Look there.” She pointed at it.
“Well, shit.” He let the motor stall and then jumped out of the boat and waded over to take a look. “I’ll be damned.”
“What?”
The boat drifted into the grass, and bumped against the bottom.
Troy gazed down at the thin yellow twine, but didn’t touch it. “They must not have seen this,” he muttered. “Or maybe they came in from the south.”
“Who came in?”
He looked up. “The crime seen guys. Breck, Maynard, Chavez. They should have collected all this. It’s evidence.”
“Evidence of what?”
He trudged back to the boat and shoved it into the center of the narrow channel.
“Of your unsub.” He climbed aboard and got them moving again. “This marsh, it’s like a maze. I grew up all over this bay, and I get lost half the time. Looks like the killer used twine to mark the route so he could find his way out after dumping the body.”
Elaina stared at the twine, struck by the idea.
“And how do we know it came from him?” she asked. “Maybe Breck left it.”
“He didn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because.” Troy gave her a hard look. “They found it in Gina’s case too. He leaves it every time.”
# # #
Elaina continued to look queasy, so Troy hugged the coast as he headed back in. He felt her behind him as she gripped the chair and stared silently off into the distance.
She hadn’t liked him poking holes in her profile, but that was too damn bad. Sure, the profile sounded good in theory, but given the demographics around here, it didn’t narrow things down a whole lot. Troy had never cared much for mind hunters. Most of them stayed holed up in their basement at headquarters and rattled off psychobabble while the real cops rolled up their sleeves and worked the cases. If criminal profiling was Elaina’s thing, she was going to have an uphill battle getting anyone around here to buy into it. Profiling and fortune-telling were first cousins, as far as Chief Breck was concerned.
But she’d figure that out soon enough.

Troy glanced back at Elaina and saw that she still had that uneasy look. Her nose was pink, too, and she’d forgotten sunscreen. She wasn’t from around here, evidently, but he didn’t know her background. He needed to do some digging and find out just how green a green-horn she really was.
She squinted at something up ahead, and he followed her gaze.
“What’s going on?”
“Dunno,” he said. But as they neared the marina, it became clear something had gone down during their little sight-seeing cruise. Cars and news vans filled the LIPD parking lot.
“Breck’s holding a press conference,” Troy guessed, turning into the cove. They glided past the police station, and Elaina turned to gape at the crowd.
Troy pulled into his slip without touching the dock. He hopped out and tied the bow line to a cleat, then held out a hand for Elaina.
She barely glanced at it as she stepped onto the pier without help.
“I hope your police chief knows what he’s doing,” she said. “If he releases too much detail, he’ll compromise the investigation.”
“That’s one thing you don’t have to worry about. The man hates reporters.”
“But he talks to you?”

Troy walked across the pier and surveyed the situation. Breck was talking to the media—or more likely, dodging their questions—from the station house steps. Cinco stood on the sidelines. Troy caught his eye, and the deputy joined them on the lawn beside the marina.
“What’s up, Cinc?”
He glanced at Elaina. Then he eyed Troy’s muddy sandals and seemed to put it together where they’d been “Good news and bad news,” Cinco said. “We got an ID. Girl’s name is Whitney Bensen.”
Troy felt Elaina go rigid beside him.
“What about Valerie?” she asked.
“That’s the bad news,” Cinco told her. “Valerie Monroe is still missing.”

Question of the Day: Since Laura's excerpt takes place on a boat, I thought I'd ask-- what's your favorite method of transporation for long distances? Boat, car, train, plane? I'm partial to long meandering car rides, myself. In college, my friends and I would take off for road trips with a moment's notice and sometimes my husband, kids and I still do. Don't forget to coment for a chance to win Unspeakable.

Lauren Dane's Contest Winner Day #7

2010-06-28T12:08:00.003-05:00

Congratulations! The winner of Moira Rogers Crux (in paper or digital, winner's choice) is Nikki! Contact Lauren with your information to claim your prize.

Take You to Another World Contest Day #9: Livia Dare

2010-06-28T07:45:00.003-05:00

Today, the wonderful, talented Sylvia Day is giving away Eve of Chaos by her alter ego, S.J. Day. One of my favorite Urban Fantasy series, the Eve series is fabulous-- and Eve herself is absolutely awesome! So leave a comment below for a chance to win.

In the Flesh by Livia Dare

“Lush, evocative, inventive… Fans of Dara Joy will love this!” — Shayla Black, author of Possess Me at Midnight
* Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award Nominee* 2010 CRW Award of Excellence Finalist* 2010 Write Touch Readers’ Award Finalist* 2010 National Readers’ Choice Award Finalist* 2010 RomCon Readers’ Crown Finalist* 2010 PRISM Award Finalist* 2010 Golden Quill Award Finalist

Blurb:

AN INFAMOUS BEAUTY. A DARING WARRIOR. . .
For five years, Sapphire has been the King of Sari’s most treasured concubine. Independent at last, she refuses to put herself in anyone’s control again. But now another’s meddling has led her into the path of proud, arrogant Wulfric, Crown Prince of the rival kingdom of D’Ashier. . . a man who is dangerous to her in every way.

AND A SEDUCTION THAT COULD DESTROY THEM BOTH
The daughter of Wulfric’s fiercest opponent, Sapphire is a prized warrior in her own right and highly skilled in the sensual arts—in short, Wulfric’s perfect match. A lasting union is unthinkable, but the bargain they strike—to spend one night together, and then part—proves impossible in the face of a desire powerful enough to bring two countries to the brink of war, and two hearts to the point of surrender. . .

Excerpt:

Wulf’s long-legged stride ate up the seemingly endless length of white stone hallway with ease. The guards stationed at various intervals bowed at the waist as he passed, their eyes wide as they stared at Katie squirming and swearing loudly over his shoulder. She had the vocabulary of a hardened soldier and she didn’t hesitate to use it. He’d never been so verbally abused in his life. Coming from Katie, he enjoyed it immensely.

The doors to the seraglio slid open when he approached. He entered to a chorus of eager greetings and sighs at his half-dressed state. As his concubines rushed toward him, he kept them at bay by holding up the hand not currently caressing Katie’s buttocks.
“Your Royal Highness.”
He turned to the elderly woman prostrated just to the right of him.
“Sabine.” He greeted his chamberlain with a smile. Once, she had been his father’s concubine. Now retired, she served Wulf by maintaining order in his harem. “You may rise.”
“Who is that you have there?” she asked, rising gracefully to her feet.
As he started toward the large rectangular pool that dominated the center of the room, she fell into step beside him. Three fountains broke up the tranquil surface of the water, the splashing sounds mingling with the melodious voices of his concubines and the sounds of birds chirping in the various cages that decorated the perimeter. The humid air was redolent with lush hothouse flowers, various perfumes, and luxurious bath oils. Jewel-encrusted doors lined the walls, each portal leading to the private quarters of a concubine. Drenched in the sunlight pouring from the massive skylight above, the expensive and precious gems winked and flashed to glorious effect.
He slid Katie from his shoulder, careful to keep his hold on her while maintaining her confinement within his robes. “Sabine, this is Katie.”

“Sapphire,” Katie corrected testily.
Grinning, he told Sabine, “She needs a bath and suitable garments. I want her body jewelry changed from sapphires to talgorite. I prefer her hair down. When she’s ready, bring her to my rooms.”
Sabine was eying the disheveled Katie appraisingly when the import of his words registered. Her gaze darted to meet his. “Y-your rooms, Your Highness?”
“That’s what I said.” With a flourish, he yanked the voluminous fabric of his robe from Katie, causing her to twirl outward from the enveloping folds.
She recovered her footing several feet away and glared at him. “Afraid to do it yourself, Wulf? We both know I can take you.”
His concubines gasped at her insubordination and her use of his given name, but he laughed.
“Yes. I’m quite taken.” His tone was a husky murmur, his gaze riveted by the sight of her bare body.

Enamored of her beauty, Wulfric watched her gaze roam. Her dark eyes paused briefly on each of the women surrounding the pool, all of whom eyed her back with curiosity and/or suspicion. Her expression grew taut, her hands fisting at her sides. It was only then that he registered his error in bringing her here. To the seraglio. Distracted by lust, he’d considered only the fastest way to get her ready for the long hours of sex he intended for them to enjoy.
He opened his mouth to reassure her, but before he could speak, Katie spun on her heel and fled. #
“Guards!” Sabine sounded the alarm before Wulf could react.
The doors slid open and four guardsmen charged into the room.
“Lock the door,” he roared as Katie leaped through the air to attack the nearest soldier. Naked as she was, the man was stunned and vulnerable to her assault. She kicked him dead center in the chest, knocking him flat on his back, then turned to engage the others.
Wulf raced after her.
“Don’t touch her!” Fear roughened his voice. Images of her injuries from the holo-room knotted his stomach. “Hurt her at your peril.”
Katie’s head turned at the proximity of his voice. Her grim expression betrayed her determination to find another way out.
Almost there…

He was a hair’s breadth away from catching her when she darted out of his reach and deserted the locked exit. He cursed. She backtracked into the room, heading toward the opposite side of the pool. Squeals and screams rent the air as startled concubines scattered out of her way. The birds in their cages cried out their alarm, their wings flapping frantically and littering the air with feathers.
She rounded the corner of the pool. Wulf vaulted diagonally across the small gap, his body stretched out as he flew over the water. He caught her, twisting in midair to absorb the impact when they crashed onto the marble floor and slid several feet.
“Let me go.” She struggled against him. He rolled, pinning her beneath him.

Their chests heaved together; his heart raced with the excitement of the chase. The scent of Draxian lilies filled his nostrils and relief at holding her after her frantic attempt at flight heated his blood. As Katie’s naked breasts pressed to his skin, his focus altered. Desire for her acted like a potent drug in his veins, making his entire body hot and hard.
Wulf lifted his head. “Everyone, out!”
His mind distantly registered the sounds of footsteps fading and doors slamming shut, but his focus was on the woman in his arms.
Taking her mouth, Wulf groaned his pleasure when she returned his kiss with equal fervor. He loved Katie’s body, so strong and lithe. She could fight and injure him—she had the knowledge and stamina—but she touched him with tenderness. She was toned by years of combat training, yet still soft, with generous curves and valleys that fit perfectly against him.

Katie began to struggle again, even as her tongue swirled greedily in his mouth. She didn’t want to want him, but couldn’t resist. That affinity stoked his lust to a fever pitch.
Wulf broke the kiss and buried his face in her throat. “Don’t fight me,” he murmured against her flushed, scented skin. “I’ll make it good for you.”
Gasping, she arched into him. “Release me.”
“I can’t.” He grabbed her wrists and pinned her arms above her head. He drew a taut nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue before suckling her with hard, deep pulls.
“Oh!” Katie twisted in an effort to deter him. “No…”
Wulf moved to her other breast, nipping the hard peak with his teeth before soothing the sting with gentle licks. “Stop wriggling,” he rumbled, then he curled his tongue around the straining point of her breast.
Katie tried to buck him off but the movement only forced her legs to spread. His hips dipped between her thighs, settling perfectly into place because she was made for him.
“Wulf. No.”
“Remember last night?” he crooned. “How good it was?” His hips swiveled against hers, rubbing his rock-hard cock against her clitoris. “We were meant for this… you and I.”
As he rocked into her, massaging her pussy with the hard length of his dick, she moaned, “Give me the top.”
Wulf growled, remembering the way he’d felt last night when she plied her trade. “Why? So you can work?”
Holding her wrists with one hand, he reached between them to loosen his drawstring. His wrist rubbed against her and she hissed in pleasure.
“Isn’t that why you stole me?” she challenged. “Isn’t that why I’m here in your seraglio with all your other women? To work?”

Rough and impatient, he shoved his waistband down and his cock sprang free. With a deft twist, he pulled her over him, his legs kicking until he was freed from his pants. “It was a mistake,” he said gruffly. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“You’re not thinking now.” She gasped as he positioned his dick between her petal-soft lips and pushed into the tight, plush clasp of her pussy.
She held herself aloft with her hands on his chest, the slick walls of her sex sucking on the head of his cock.
He forced himself to wait. “Your choice, Katie. You said you could take me. Do it.”

Question of the Day: What plans do you have this summer? I've already been to Orlando with the kids, but am going back for the RWA conference at the end of July. Other than that, I'm hanging out at the pool with my boys, writing two books and enjoying my first break from teaching in quite a while.

Lauren Dane Winner Day #6

2010-06-27T13:46:00.001-05:00

Congratulations, Jennifer D.! You're the winner of Marked :) Contact Lauren with your information to claim your prize.