Please welcome Guest Blogger Amylea Lyn to An Open Book



First, I’d like to thank Dawne for letting me post with her today. I’m very excited about my coming release, and so excited to share my work, as it branches me out into an aspect of my imagination I’d never written about before.
As an author of M/M romance, I thought I’d read and written everything possible within the genre. It wasn’t until I was working on the outline for my coming release, Love’s Crash Landing -back when it was a simple, weekly blog story- that I came across something I wasn’t completely familiar with.
Male Pregnancy.
I hadn’t realized what a hot button topic this was until I started doing research about the topic. Some readers are die-hard fans, and can’t get enough of the idea of a man giving birth. Other readers want nothing to do with the whole idea of “m-preg”. The very idea of a man birthing a child, experiencing all the hormonal swings and cravings a woman would, is down right blasphemous! The opinions vary on both sides, but there is one truth that always stays the same; male pregnancy explores a situation not normally inherit in a male-on-male romance novel.
For me, there was never a question whether or not I would add m-preg in my story. The characters and the story line demanded it, and I –as the humble servant of my Muse- could not deny them. Since my story involved aliens and crash-landed spaceships, I had a bit more leeway when it came to plot twists. By the time my story was finished, I’d definitely drifted over to the pro m-preg side of the fence.
I hope everyone gives this type of story a try, even if it’s not mine that they pick up and read. I believe including something like male pregnancy adds a deeper depth to the relationship between characters as it explores the bond between parents and their child. The idea that two men can get together and create something as beautiful and precious as a baby? Yeah, I don’t see anything wrong with that. And really, with romance, love is always the most important factor of all.
My coming release, Love’s Crash Landing will be available February 4th from Silver Publishing.


Blurb:   

Gavin Howard lives a simple life on his farm, keeping to himself and staying under the radar. That is all changed late one night when a spaceship crash-lands in his cornfield. So what is a simple farmer to do when he finds an injured alien lying in his back yard? Take it inside and care for it until it can "phone home," of course.

But Prince Mi'Kel Ta'Rulen is not what Gavin expected. Beautiful, gentle, and on a mission to save his dying planet, Mi'Kel needs Gavin's help for more than just his injuries. Can Gavin help Mi'Kel find the solution to save his people all while keeping the little alien safe from the Earth governments hunting him?

Gavin finds himself falling in love with the being from outer space, but can he find it in his heart to let the little alien go when Mi'Kel's ship is finally fixed? Or will Mi'Kel's secrets drive them apart when the alien needs his farmer the most?




Excerpt:


Gavin Howard jumped out of bed the moment he heard the sound of the crash.
He'd been sleeping soundly, exhausted after a day of planting crops in the field behind his small farmhouse, when a loud boom shook the house down to its foundation and a blinding flash of light lit up the entire room.
Jerked from a pleasant dream involving two male belly dancers and a lot of whipped cream, Gavin opened his eyes as his befuddled brain struggled to catch up. Glancing at the clock, Gavin groaned when he saw the glowing red numbers read 2:17am. Lights shone from his backyard, just visible through his bedroom bay window. The red and orange flickering moved hypnotically and beautifully. It took a long moment before he realized what he saw.
Was that—? Holy shit, my backyard is on fire!
Before he even realized he had moved, Gavin jumped out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans over his half-hard cock, not bothering to do up the buttons completely. He grabbed his shotgun and charged down the stairs like a herd of buffalo were after him.
Before he even reached the kitchen and back door that lead outside, Gavin heard his old Blue Heeler, Bo, going wild, barking like a demon-possessed hound. The dog threw itself at the screen door again and again, blocking him from getting to the backyard and only quieting his howls to whimpering and whining when he spotted his beloved owner rushing into the room.
Gavin grabbed a flashlight from below the sink, patting Bo's head as he went by.
"S'okay boy, I got it." He opened the door, then turned back to push Bo back into the house when the mutt tried to slip between his legs. "Stay, Bo. Stay!" he commanded, not wanting to put his dog in danger until the backyard was safe. He shut the door, taking a deep breath to ready himself to face whatever had disturbed his sleep so violently.
Gavin turned, prepared to face the issue at hand.
And promptly dropped the flashlight he held.
"No way…" he muttered, staring in disbelief at the scene before him. He couldn't reconcile what he saw with what his brain knew had to be possible. He looked around. Nope, no cameras or microphones anywhere to be seen. Bo still whined from inside the house. Gavin gave himself a little pinch on the leg with his one free hand and hissed at the sharp, bright pain blossoming on his leg. Well, he wasn't dreaming, which meant what he was seeing had to be real.
The scene before him seemed impossible, unbelievable.
Gavin just stood there, stunned, gun hanging from limp hands, mouth hanging open.
What the hell is going on?
No way could there be a crashed spaceship sitting in the center of his cornfield.
Pulling together his now-tattered courage, Gavin reached down to pick up the fallen flashlight, and then carefully started to approach the smoking wreckage, gun ready to shoot at the smallest sign of movement. Times like this, he was glad his military training gave him enough experience to keep himself safe as he approached a possible danger zone. His eyes were trained on the sky, for what, he didn't knowmore ships maybe?
Because as much as he wanted to deny what he was seeing, there was no doubt about it; he was definitely looking at a large silver spaceship.
The ship didn't seem to be much taller than his tractor but definitely appeared wider; at least twenty feet across in an almost disk shape. The smooth sides shone silver, with an iridescent sheen that probably served as camouflage while the ship flew. He'd seen a weak rendition of just that type of thing years before while he'd been on special assignment in the Marines. Although, what he saw back then didn't even begin to compare to the stunning object before him.
The fallen ship gave off a thrumming feel, vibrating deep in his chest with a low hum, almost like when the next door neighbor played a bass guitar in his garage. Gavin could still remember those days from back when he lived on the base. He knew there was sound coming from the amplifiers, but it was too low for him to actually hear. He could feel the static energy and vibration on his skin, but no sound could be heard.
All of the sudden, Gavin realized that what he was seeing might be real. As a kid, he'd always been a comic book fan and loved the old Star Trek TV show. But never in his life could he have imagined something like this.
Hot damn! He had a real live flying saucer in his backyard.




You Say Love Story, I Say Romance Novel

Today I was exposed to a blog post by someone, who happens to think his writing , or any other writing genre is superior to romance. He understands the romance genre is the top selling of all main genres (one point given) and he subconsciously understands his views will cause a stir- perhaps with the hopes and intentions every romance author will add fuel to his fire; causing a boost in his five blog followers. (Almost one year writing his 13 blog posts and he only has five followers? Oh, wait, make that six now). He only gets half of a point for this- reason being, I only give half points for half-wits and their wirds.

He degraded the art of writing romance (I wish to quote a few of his sentences but I can't subject my blog with his malignant theory).  And I refuse to expose my friends and followers to it.

His blog profile claims "I'm a sexy, single, white male with a really big, uh, wallet. (It's where I keep all my I.O.U.s). I also write a bit." *Stifles a grin* Modest? Wishful thinking? I don't care. As for writing a bit, that is debatable. I'm still looking for his 'works' aside from his Baker's Dozen blog posts. 


His closing paragraph:
"I find it difficult to respect something that is purposely meant to be a lessor work. One should always strive to do great work. If an author classifies their own story as romance, that tells me that even they don't think much of it. That being the case, neither should we."


I didn't feel the desire, need, want or any emotion to comment on his post. Why? Class. Professional. 

The degrading words this 'man' (and I use the term loosely) used bordered ridiculous... moronic... and a need for attention.  

I just have to say this, the jealousy, the obvious spite and the need for aggressive behavior against any sub-genre of romance needs to stop. From bashing M/M authors to erotic authors, people really need to take a step back, mind their own business and keep their shallow opinions to his or herself. go ahead and read, but take a stance and don't comment.



SIDE NOTE: I actually thought of following his blog, but I didn't want to tarnish my career and reputation by associating with such a small minded person.
Can you imagine it... erotic romance author and adult sex toy reviewer following him and his 'big' wallet? *brings a smile to my face*

Tuesday Tales- Weekend Retreat

 “Shit! I gotta go, Vinnie. I'm being pulled over.”
“What?”
“I'll call you back. I'm being pulled over by a cop.” Rose flung the remote control onto the passenger seat and flipped her phone shut. “Damn it.”
Rose steered her car to the shoulder of road and parked it. She watched the state police officer exit his car behind her and she noticed she had started to perspire. Not profusely, but enough to appear nervous. She was aflutter but not because she had been pulled over. Hell, she'd just experienced two of the best back-to-back orgasms she'd ever had. Who wouldn't be a little spent and sweaty.
Vinnie had, hands off, just made her thong the wettest they had ever been without even touching her. Just his smooth voice, descriptive words and way of turning her on. This little game of his was working wonders for her libido.   
Tap!
Rose glanced to her left and saw the police officer hovering outside her window. She rolled the window down and smiled, trying to cover up her state of oblivion.
“Yes officer?” Her eyelashes fluttered.
“Do you know why I pulled you over?” His pensive personality apparent and his authority obvious with the way his tone mocked her.
“Umm... I wasn't speeding was I?” Unsure of the answer to this, Rose tried to remember how fast she had been traveling down the state road.
“No, Ma'am. You were actually swerving all over your lane.” His mirrored sunglasses hid half of his expression but Rose knew he was a hard-ass and she didn't see any way of getting out of a ticket.
“Oh, I hadn't realized.” Quick on her feet, she tossed out there an excuse. “It is quite sunny out today. Don't you think?”
“License and registration.” He leaned down resting his forearm on the car door and glanced in the vehicle, like he was scanning the contents.
“Oh, yes.” She grinned and started rummaging around on the floorboard for her purse. “Well, it is very bright out today.” She began ransacking items in her over-sized purse searching for her wallet. “And I forgot my sunglasses at home so the sun was shining in and...”
“License and registration.” The man's harsh reminder jolted Rose. His voice even closer than a moment ago. She looked over at him and he was staring past her.
“I'm looking for them.” She returned her attention to the task and her hands muddled through the clutter. Grabbing her wallet, she opened it, set aside her purse and dug out her license. “It's not a very good picture.” She handed to his awaiting hand.
He took it, smiling. “Registration?”
“Oh, yeah. Hang on.” She leaned across the car to reach into the glove box when she eyed the remote control sitting on the seat. Her mouth gaped open when embarrassment flushed her face.
Had he seen it? He had smiled.
“Oh, God.”
“Ma'am?”
“Yes.”
“Registration, please.”
“Oh, okay. Give me one minute.” She leaned further over to hide the remote, trying to think of a way to shove it aside and out of sight. Seeing no possible plan, Rose sighed and retrieved her car's registration.
She sat back in her seat and handed the officer the slip of paper. Blowing stray strands of her blonde hair out of her face, Rose avoided eye contact. She couldn't be sure if he had seen the remote control but the humiliation of him even possibly seeing it, and knowing what it was, kept her quiet and distant. No sense in even trying to talk her way out of the ticket. She'd take the penalty for her reckless driving if it meant getting gout of his sight.
“I'll be right back.” He spun on his heels and walked back to his car. As she watched him retreat in her rear view mirror, her cell phone buzzed. She glanced down at the screen to see Vinnie's name flashing.
Glancing in the mirror, she saw the police officer talking on his hand-held radio, probably confirming who she was and that she had no warrants. She grabbed her phone and flipped it open.
“You okay, honey?” Vinnie's voice full of concern. “What happened?”
“Oh man. I got pulled over for swerving. Probably going to get a reckless driving ticket or something.”
“Oh babe.”
“It's okay.” She sighed. “I don't give a crap about the ticket right now.”
“You don't?”
“No.” She looked in the mirror, making sure she had another moment to talk. The police officer nodded his head and continued talking to the person on the other end of the radio. “I think he saw the remote control.”

See all the other authors participating in Tuesday Tales here

Weekend Dirty Dozen - Languishing Thoughts

From my newest novel, Callie Way: The Voluptuous Women's Club- Book 1, available NOW with  No Boundaries Press

This is an erotic F/F about The Voluptuous Women's Club, a local establishment owned by Callie Ludington where she brings together women of curvaceous proportions and the men that love them.



 The images of the afternoon were still fresh in her mind, the essence of Callie still lingered nearby, the way Callie's silken pussy reacted to her touch. Sammi inhaled, as if breathing deeply would bring back the moment. Her craving for Callie couldn't be satisfied. She tried using her vibrator that first night, but her body revolted against the stimulation. It wasn't until her mind drifted to thoughts of Callie, that her body responded, flooding the bed sheet with come.
Instead of immediately cleaning up after the explosive orgasm, Sammi languished in bed, swirling her finger in her own juices, slipping her finger over every fold, images of Callie floating through her mind. Wishing Callie was present to taste her, lick up the moisture that had gushed out and bask in her glow of climax.
Sammi woke up this morning cradling her pillow, with subconscious thoughts of Callie's body next to her, snuggled in. Before Sammi fully awoke, she was aroused and ground her pelvis into the pillow. Waking up frustrated and hornier than a groom on his wedding night, Sammi settled for another quickie with her vibrator. The sensation of her orgasm arrived but still her desire remained insatiable. She hungered for Callie, needing to savor her body.  



Beyond the Thong with BL Morticia


Beyond the Thong 
by BLMorticia


Women writing about men in love! Some people might find it strange that females love creating stories about hot men having sex and getting emotional but really, these days, it’s no longer uncommon to find a great deal of m/m authors who are not gay males. With some of the best writers, you’d never know this unless you knew them personally or they made it public knowledge.

Since I have no secrets, I confess, I’m a woman. *shrug*

I, Michael Mandrake/Rawiya/Blmorticia, write m/m in addition to m/f, m/m/f, m/f/m, ménage, group sex, and everything in between. As much as I love a great hetero tale, I enjoy m/m erotica romance the best. There’s just something more intriguing than the vanilla or as I call it “safe” kind of story. Even in this day and age where we should be more tolerant towards people’s sexual orientation, it’s still very much taboo to read or write about same sex copulation. That fact is really a shame but I won’t use this space as a soapbox.

What is it about men having sex that just gets me all hot and bothered?

It is the thought of two rock hard bodies, sweaty, maybe a bit dirty, getting together. A kiss between two men when their tongues intertwine, their facial hair rubs against each other’s cheeks? The vision of two beautiful specimen’s enjoying a shower or even more sexy, a ménage or foursome, pleasuring one another with a hot session of fellatio or mutual masturbation.

You’re not hot yet? Well, if you’re a quote “macho man” or woman who’s not into that, fine, but truly, nothing inspires me more than dreaming of scenarios that most likely I won’t be able to witness in person. Such is the reason I write about it because my imagination is chock full of ideas of what my ideal m/m relationship is. A hot and sweaty romp with some tension, emotion, and sometimes, even a happy ending.

So again, why do I write gay stories? It’s arousing, it’s different, and right now, more people are interested in reading about the so called “left” side and as long as that happens, my-selves, along with my fellow male and female counterparts will be able to entertain the masses.

BL is currently a published writer with Rebel Ink and Naughty Nights Press. Her first two novellas, My Lieutenant and Something Fresh Served Hot are Silver Stars on All Romance and her next book, You Don’t Ask We Don’t Tell book one Basic Training will be released in Feb 2012. She writes bi weekly for Erotic Diaries with Rawiya and a column twice a month on Blak Rayne Books

The Literary Triad - http://www.thelitriad.com/#!


Something New on the Menu 
The Series

In this series of stories, BLMorticia and Rawiya will correlate the uses of foods and gay male erotica in a humorous, titillating, and intriguing way. These are well written tales where the details include something about a certain kind of food or the setting exists in the food service industry.

Each one is individually crafted with its own sets of characters in our contemporary world. In some cases, there is more tension as the protagonists try to accept themselves as gay men while the others already accept this fact but struggle to gain the lover they feel they deserve.

All stories offer humor and eroticism that pushes boundaries while celebrating diversity in the gay community. This collection is meant to open the eyes to readers and give them a fresh perspective as told through female authors, BLmorticia and Rawiya.


Available in February at Amazon, All Romance, and Smashwords

Blurb: Andre, a customer, comes in and pays him a visit. The two lock eyes and immediately connect on a personal level. Because of this, Christopher decides to pursue when Andre passes him his card. He wonders what the young man does for a living however, he’s so smitten by him, Chris doesn’t give it much thought.

Little does the shop owner know, Andre actually works for his biggest competitor as a secret shopper and has been told to use any method necessary to find out the secrets of the shop as well as convince him to sell his shop and become part of the national chain.

When Christopher finds out, he has a surprise for Andre and deals with him in a rather humorous way. Will he trust Andre once he finds out this fact? Will he give up his shop under the pressure the well known franchise?

With the song Manic Monday by the Bangles playing on the overhead, Jesse stood behind the cashier Wanda, getting orders for customers while Christopher finished putting the third batch of donuts in the oven. The owner always felt better when the store officially opened for business making him forget about the lack of sleep he got from the night prior or the fact he’d been in the restaurant since two a.m.
He pushed the double doors open as he came from the kitchen, watching the customers lining up in front of the register. They were ready to give their morning rush orders of coffee and donuts or bagels. Others who had time sat at the long laminate counter waiting for one of the waitresses to take their requests. Bigger groups of people or those who liked to take in the atmosphere sat in booths to sample the diner’s finest delicacies. Part of the charm of Christopher’s place was it catered to everyone in some form or fashion while offering great service. Something he knew that other place could provide.
While waving at a couple of regulars, Christopher started to help Jesse bag a few orders. Unlike most owners, he always chipped in to help on the front lines regardless if it were busy or not.
Jesse smacked him on the shoulder. “Yo dude, you look like you haven’t sleep in weeks.” The husky redheaded woman poured a cup of coffee for a lady in front of her.
Well thanks,” he frowned. “I’m still being bombarded by calls from that place to get me to sell. They won’t quit. Don’t they get the message?”
Apparently not. They been callin’ ya at home?”
No on the cell and all because that one girl that used to work here got employed by them. They thought by doing that, they’d be able to pick up some secrets or learn something new about me, or the restaurant. Didn’t they know I brainwash my former workers,” he laughed.
You wish. You just don’t share anything important which is smart, now me on the other hand,” She cocked an eyebrow. “I could be an asset to someone if they swayed me to leave.”
Christopher stopped immediately and glared at her. “You’d never.”
She drew up her lips. Within seconds she guffawed and smacked him on the back pretty hard. “Babe, no, never. I’m just messin’ wicha. I’d never leave your side. I told you the day Jayson died I’d help you run the place till we couldn’t do it anymore and I meant it. You know I’m a rebel at heart. I couldn’t go anywhere and work for “the man” and feel comfortable. I ain’t wearin’ no suit and tie for nobody.”
Christopher choked a little from the slap and let out a small sigh of relief. He didn’t know what he’d do without Jesse if she left. Good thing she always had such a good sense of humor and because he liked her as his second in command, he vowed never to piss her off if he could help it. Yes, they’d had run-ins a couple of times over various decisions but he knew most of the time the two of them would come to an agreement in the end.
Well I’m glad about that.” He straightened his tie and shrugged his shoulders. “I need you here, Jess. No bones about that. Most days, I’m not sure what I’d do without your intellect.”
She blushed and chuckled. “Aw, Christopher, I swear if I didn’t like women and you didn’t like men we’d be a match made in heaven, right?”
A woman with a baby in front of them giggled and took her bag.
Christopher sighed, “Jesse, we really need to stop talkin’ about our personal business up here, huh?”
Yes, duly noted boss man. Sooo…maybe we should go in the back so I can ask you about the dude I hooked you up with last week.” She nodded and turned to him.
Um, nothin’ really to tell. I’m sorry Jesse, he’s just not what I’m looking for.”
The manager rolled her eyes. “Just what the hell are you searchin’ for in a man, Chris? You gotta lower your standards just a little don’t you? Ain’t no pretty boy with money and a squeaky clean disposition comin’ into your life any time soon.”
That might be true but, well, he just didn’t do it for me. I liked that he’s self-sufficient, he’s pretty burly which I, erm, well, I’m not into overly muscular men. He doesn’t have to be a model but he does have to be easy on the eyes.” Christopher paused, “Didn’t I just say I didn’t want to talk about my business up here?” He cocked an eyebrow.
Oh sorry, let’s go in the back a moment then. I gotta hear the rest of this. Wanda, you okay hon, since the rush is about done?”
The younger blond nodded, “Yep, I’ll call ya’ if I need ya.”
Great.” Jesse gripped Christopher’s shoulder. “To the back then chief to get another batch ready then, huh?”
Yep. We’ll be back, Wanda.” Christopher went through the doors and Jesse followed him. He really enjoyed when he and Jesse could work and talk at once. Made the day go by a lot faster. If only he had something other than his seemingly desperate romantic situations to converse about.

Attacking Me Isn't the Mature Road To Take

This entire SOPA (Stop Online Piracy Act) has people battling and being harsh, cruel and demeaning. I'm not talking about the act itself but about the response to a post I made in an open forum standing tall for the rights of authors, creative people who are having their work 'stolen" with no protection.


The question was a quick- How do you feel about SOPA?
So my response was this
"As a published author, I am in favor of the stance. Many books/movies are being given away for free on these piracy sites and that is unfair and money out of our pockets. We work just as hard in our career and our hard work is stolen out from under us every day when piracy sites give free downloads of our work."


The next reply was from a man (who shall remain nameless due to his anger and stupidity)

"Screw you, Dawn. This bill does little to combat piracy and more to censor. And I don't know why anyone would want to steal any of your "work," because based on that paragraph above, you can't write worth a damn anyway."

Really now? Anyone who starts off a sentence with "Screw You"- oh yeah, I have tons of respect for.

Another reply came from a lady- once again will remain nameless as I as I have too much class.
"Ok, either miss Prochilo doesn't understand the importance of self-promotion as an author, isn't very proud of her work, or she's bluffing. How disappointing. :-/"

Then another man piped in his 1/2-cents opinion
"Miss Prochilo writes "erotic romance" novels, Rachel. We used to call them smut books or pornography. If I were her, I wouldn't be bragging about the titles I wrote either."

Hours later I saw these comments and had to re-post- I know I shouldn't have but I couldn't help myself.
"No actually Rachel I don't hang out on facebook all day, hence the reason for my delayed reply...and as for writing smut/pornography Doug, get your facts straight and you'll see I have also written for USA TODAY and many reputable publications."

As of right now I have removed myself from that forum and will no longer check in on the replies. Small minded people really irk me and I just don't have the time to be bothered by them and their narrow views and misdirected anger issues. 

SINFUL (Follow the Music 1) by Kacey Hammell



SINFUL (Follow the Music 1)

by Kacey Hammell

BLURB:
Music was their only dream & passion...
Until they found one another...

For years, Mikayla Gallan has dreamed of providing a better life for her younger brother, Matthew, and herself. Coming from a family of musicians, Mikayla and Matthew have dreams of someday making it big. But Mikayla's first priority is always ensuring Matthew's future. When Houdini Records comes knocking on her door, offering her everything she's ever wanted, Mikayla's scared to grab onto their offer.  

Sinclair "Sin" Devlin, part-owner of Houdini Records has loved and lost and has no intentions of ever going down that path again. He's determined to put his company back on the map and is willing to do whatever it takes to make it happen. Meeting Mikayla Gallan, hearing her sultry and passionate voice on stage, Sin believes he has found the only woman that could save the company. He's even more shocked to realize that perhaps she's also the only woman to save him from himself.

EXCERPT #1:
Mikayla hung up her skirt on the clipped hanger, making a mental note to take it home after her meeting with Desmond Ritchie and his brother-in-law so that it could be dry-cleaned.
Anxious to get out front, her hands shook and her steps clumsy, as she hurriedly put her things away, she rechecked her makeup one last time.
Standing straight, Mikayla looked herself over in the mirror. Normally after work she’d dress in an old, comfortable pair of jeans, sweatshirt and running shoes, but tonight that wasn’t an option.
For her meeting she decided to keep her black halter-top on that she’d worn onstage, and instead of her normal worn jeans, she dressed in pleated black dress slacks that were comfortable, yet professional. She still wore her red heels with straps at the ankles. Though her slacks covered the straps, they were her favourite pair and she looked sexy as hell in them.
Nothing like a pair of fuck me shoes to give a girl a boost.
Around her bare shoulders, she wore a sheer silk, red shawl that added colour to her outfit and she just couldn’t resist. Red was a power colour in her mind, and exuded confidence in the person wearing it. Plus it brought out her blue eyes.
At least that was her opinion and tonight she needed all the confidence she could get. If Desmond Ritchie was for real, then hers and Matthew’s lives could change forever.
Taking a deep breath and resisting the urge to giggle in her excitement, something a woman of thirty just didn’t do, she grabbed her small black purse from the dressing table, spun on her heel and headed to the door.
Throwing open the door, she didn’t see anything but a large black blur coming at her and then she was falling. Her purse fell as she reached out to grab whatever she could to stay upright.
Landing on her back on the floor, the fluffy grey carpeting at her back cushioning the fall, Mikayla sucked in a breath.
Old Spice and an inebriating masculine scent filled her nostrils and she opened her eyes. Looking into the deepest pair of brown eyes she’d ever seen, she was surprised to realize that a large man was lying on top of her.
A hell of a sexy guy to be exact. Wavy, chestnut brown hair, deep brown eyes and lush, full lips were all she could see. Never in her life had she seen such a god-like, beyond gorgeous Adonis this up close and personal.
In many ways, he reminded her of the actor, Matthew McConaughey, but with darker hair.
Small differences didn’t matter, McConaughey was her favourite actor, the man of many of her fantasies as she pleasured herself in her own room in the dark. Any man that could come close to Matthew McConaughey in looks and what she believed he’d feel like in her arms, was okay with her.
I’m sorry, Ms. Gallan. The door opened so quickly, I didn’t have time to…”
Hearing his deep baritone voice, Mikayla’s body felt things it hadn’t felt in years. Desire, pulsating need and wetness between her thighs all registered in her passion-filled thoughts as she stared into his brown eyes.
Licking her lips, swallowing to wet her parched throat, hoping to vocalize some outrage or say something at least, Mikayla watched his eyes darken as he stared at her mouth.
Heat pooled even hotter in her belly and between her legs. She couldn’t remember where she was or whatever the hell she was about to say.
This man on top of her, her arms around him, Mikayla was certain that all was right with the world. The building around them could have fallen down and she wouldn’t have cared. Within his arms, she felt she was where she needed to be.
Ms. Gallan? Are you all right?” McConaughey look-alike asked, his eyes still watching her lips.
Wetting her lips again, she asked in a still-parched voice, “Who are you?”
Sin. My name’s Sin.”
Oh my god.
Mikayla couldn’t have asked for a hotter fire to fan the flames but the temperature had just risen another one hundred degrees. Just his name, said in that deep voice, did things to her that should be illegal.
Yes, sin you most certainly are.” Mikayla barely had time to register that she’d spoken aloud when he groaned and lowered his head.
Lips met hers in an explosive, wet kiss that would have knocked her on her ass had she not been lying down. Those lush and full lips captured hers and their tongues tangled.
He tasted of all man and a faint hint of peppermint. His hands held her head in place as if she’d move it at any second and she felt the softness of his palms resting on her cheeks.
Lost in the arousing and powerful sensations of their kiss, Mikayla’s hands roamed his back, shaping his corded muscles, making her shiver. Groaning into his mouth, she opened hers wider, taking more of his taste and his tongue into her mouth. She didn’t want to stop kissing him any time soon.

EXCERPT #2:
Sinclair heard the voice before he saw her. Her voice in itself was smooth, raspy and packed a hell of a punch to the gut. The vision before him—he wouldn’t have expected to have that voice. Des was correct, long flowing hair, and damn, she was hot. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he hoped to get a bit closer soon to have a peek. About five-three in height, she was a itty bitty thing, but her voice—he had to admit—Des had found him a woman who had more potential than the hundreds they had seen over the last few months.
Her voice called to him. He could close his eyes, hear it and think of hot summer nights. The oohs and aahs in her lyrics brought his visions of satin sheets and hot bodies to life with sound. He could picture lovers walking hand-in-hand and satin sheets with sweaty, writhing bodies making love.
The more she sang, the deeper his senses went on full alert. She was drawing him in, which of course was a good thing for any singer to capture his or her audience, but his libido was coming to life. She was seducing him.
He was finding it hard to settle his naughty thoughts and direct them to the task-at-hand.
He turned to look at Des, leaned closer so he could hear him over the music. “She’s good, I’ll give her that. What do you know about her?”
Des stood tall and proud, obviously very pleased for his find. “Emilio felt she had something, too, and a demo of her landed on my desk. There was a note, unsigned, with After Hours address and the nights she worked. I was in awe of her talent and wanted to see her in action before wasting your time, though I was confident from what I heard on the demo. She’s thirty, single, no kids, works here at night. Haven’t found out her day job as yet, if she even has one. I was here a couple nights ago, when you had that meeting with the banker…?”
Sinclair nodded, eyes riveted to the stage. He was listening to Des but his eyes were drawn back to her.
Anyway, the one waitress, Christine, told me a bit about her. But when I started asking more and more questions, like her day job, where she lived, she stopped talking and wouldn’t answer anything else.”
Well, those kinds of questions, she probably thought you were a crazed stalker after her friend,” Sinclair reprimanded.
Yeah well. I had to have answers. You can hear her. She’s perfect, Sin! You know it, that intense look on your face is very telling.”
Sighing, Sinclair looked at his friend. “She can put on a good show and has power chords, but who’s to say she can do live shows, night after night?” Sinclair needed to remind Des that just because someone could carry a tune, hold a few notes didn’t mean that in front of large audiences and stadiums, in videos or on tour, that they could keep up and hold their own. Des might be a great business partner who had handled things for them solo over the last few years, but he often times let his emotions get the better of his common sense.
Dammit, man. I wish you would take stuff like this from me seriously sometimes! She’s our girl. She’s exactly what we’ve been looking for. You’d be a fool to be stubborn on this!”
Okay, okay, I am listening. What else do you know?”
Her name is Mikayla Gallan. That, and what I already told you, is about all I do know.” Des looked toward the stage as she held the last note for what seemed like an eternity.
Sinclair looked around the nightclub. Not one man in the room was paying any attention to their dates. Even the bartender and male waiters had stopped to stare.
Thank you ladies and gentleman. I’m pleased to see so many familiar faces tonight. Sit back and enjoy,” came the voice from onstage.
Even her speaking voice had a breathless quality to it that sent shivers down Sinclair’s spine. That voice, it was what he wanted. The rest of the package was more than he could ever have hoped to find attached to a voice like that.
Sinclair looked at Des. They stood looking at one another for at least thirty seconds. Sinclair had to admit that though Des sometimes let his emotions lead, there was no man he trusted more with his career and life.
See if you can get us backstage at some point tonight to meet this Mikayla Gallan. Let’s at least introduce ourselves,” Sinclair said, silently admitting defeat and giving in to his pal.
Yes!” Des said, slapping Sinclair on the shoulder. “You will not regret this, Sin. I promise.” Des headed off to speak with the bartender.
Sinclair looked back to the stage as the crooning angel began the next song.
Unbeknownst to you, Mikayla Gallan, you are the only hope I have to stay in this business. I need you...more than you could possibly know.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:  
Canadian-born author, Kacey Hammell is a self-proclaimed book-a-holic, who began reading romances at a young age and became easily addicted.  As a Mom of three, Kacey has made certain that each of her children know the value of the written word and the adventures they could escape on by becoming book-a-holics in their own right.
A decade ago, while working for multiple review sites, Kacey quickly discovered that she was developing the writing bug. Thanks to the encouragement of her own beloved hero husband, she decided to try her hand at writing. 
With a love of contemporary settings, modern day romances and the happily ever after, as well as the excitement of suspense, Kacey creates stories in genres she’s familiar with and that she loves most. She also loves vampires who nibble the necks of the heroines, ghosts who can't leave a loved one, shape-shifters who are sexier than hell and the thought of her very own werewolf or were-cat to tame makes her tremble!
Readers can contact Kacey at kaceyhammell@gmail.com
Readers can learn more about Kacey’s books and contact her via …

Give-Away Rachel's Desire & SCP One-Year Anniversary

In honor of Secret Cravings one year anniversary I am offering my first F/F novel today. Rachel's Desire- a little girl love to chase away the winter chill. All you have to do is follow my facebook fan page and leave your email address here on this blog...easy peasy- so get to it!


BLURB: What's a woman to do when her sexual needs are ignored? Every woman has needs and sexual desire.  
When Rachel Chambers' married lover is selfish and demanding, she turns to her best friend Kari Burton for support, venting...and love. A girl knows what she needs and right now Rachel needs Kari.
A girl's night in turns into a night of explosive passion and realization of frenzied love.





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Dawne's other books-

Crape Myrtle- June 2009
On Her Own- July 2009
Sex Sells- Feb 2011
Room 11- Feb 2011
Rachel's Desire- March 2011
When We Meet Again- May 2011
His Holiday Seduction- Oct 2011
Insatiable Kate- Oct 2011
On Her Own (re-release)- Nov 2011
Wildfire Beach- Nov 2011
A Cougar's Revenge- 2012
Callie's Way- Feb 2012*
Lynn's Chance- March 2012*
Weekend Retreat- April 2012
Melody's Dance- May 2012*
Tessa's Passion- July 2012*