Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Birthday Bash Day 29 - Liza O'Connor

Liza O’Connor’s
 Best Birthday Ever

It was a hot summer night, we’d just gotten off work (at midnight), full of teenage energy, so we headed to the Civic center. Most places in my town weren’t particularly safe at night, but we’d discovered the civic center a few weeks before and it seemed safe, especially since the police department occupied once side of it. It also had a huge shallow pool with multiple fountains and giant columns you could hide behind when the police entered and exited their station. It also had great acoustics for singing.

When we got there, instead of jumping in the water, my friends laid down a blanket over a wide concrete walkway and placed upon it a birthday cake and presents. Surprise! It was the only birthday cake I recall getting and I was speechless that my fabulous friends had spent their money (none of us had much) to give me a real birthday celebration before I went off college in the fall.

Alice was a fabulous hostess and made sure we had forks, napkins, paper plates, and Dixie cups. She even brought a bag to put the trash in. Never had I felt so loved. And happy. I was at my comical best that night and had everyone laughing with my stories. Then their eyes widened and their smiles faded as they stared over my head. I turned and looked up at a policeman.

A non-smiling policeman.

I could not let my friends go down for this. So I smiled. “It’s my birthday. I’ve never had a birthday party before. Would you like a piece of my cake? It’s very good.”

After what seemed an eternity, his face softened from a I’m-going-to-arrest-you-all face to a gentle smiling face.  He shook off the cake Alice so eagerly offered.

“You kids the ones who’ve been coming out here the last few weeks?”

We slowly nodded. (And here we thought we’d been successfully hiding behind those pillars in the pool.)

“Well, make sure you clean this up before you leave.”

We all pointed to Alice’s trash bag as we promised we would.

Then he added one last statement. “You kids can really sing. Keep it up.”

Our mouths fell open. Wow, he really did know about us.

Looking back, it could have been my worst birthday, if the cop had sent us into the police station and called our parents. But instead, it stands as my very best birthday ever.

Now I let my characters get in trouble.

Climbing Out of Hell
Book 4 of the series
Romantic Comedy
A Long Road to Love
In the third book of A Long Road to Love, we discovered how truly horrible Trent could be. Now we discover the full truth which puts him in a better light.

Still, there is no going back. He has lost Carrie forever, but he would rather die than marry Coco, so he does just that. Determined to be the man Carrie always saw within him, Trent gives away most of his possessions, fakes his death, and starts over with a new face.

With no skills, how will he survive?
Can he rebuild himself into a better man?
Will he ever find love again?

Trent sets about to fundamentally change the man he is, channeling Carrie rather than his father.

Sam burst into the kitchen, frowned at Trent, then focused on Danielle. “Leroy is at it again. I thought you said you were going to hide the damn thing?”

“I did. But there are only so many places one can hide an AK 47 rifle.”

“Well, you hid it worth shit because it’s raining lead again at the downtown square!”

She gripped her head as if it might explode.

“What’s the problem?” Trent asked Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Iowa passed a law allowing blind people to carry and discharge weapons in public. So her grandfather, who is blind as a bat, sits on a bench in the square and shoots his AK into the trees.”

“What’s he trying to shoot?”

“Pigeons,” both Sam and Dani answered at once. She glared him into silence and continued her reply. “He likes pigeon soup. A Pakistani doctor told him it would prevent strokes.”

“Well, he’s giving me a stroke,” Sam snapped. “You have to make him stop!”

“I’ve talked to him until I’m blue in the face. He won’t listen to me. Most of the time he thinks I’m three years old. Who listens to a three-year-old?” She threw up her hands in frustration and turned back to the grill.

Trent didn’t care for the way Sam pushed Danielle. Grandparents were impossible to boss about…at least his had been.  “Why don’t you talk to him?’

Sam released a hurricane of air and stared at the ceiling. “Because the mayor told me to stay away from him. He is not breaking any laws, and any attempt on my part could result in a lawsuit against the town.” He then eyed Trent. “You should talk to him?”

“Sam, Trevor’s only been in town an hour. You know Gramps doesn’t trust people right off.”

“True, but neither do you, yet here he sits, like an old friend, watching you cook him dinner.”

She rescued the burgers off the grill, slapped them both on buns, and shoved one at Sam. “This is your hamburger. Trevor is holding out for braised lamb.”

“Point still stands. Look, I think he can do the job. I intended to hit him with a ticket, but ended up sending him to you instead. He’s a likable guy. Let’s send him out and see if he can stop this madness.”


“Then I’m shutting this bar down for safety violations.”

She stared at him in shock. “What violations?”

“Don’t worry. Mr. Olsen will find something. He owes me big time after last night’s poker game.”

Trent stood up. “Sam, you’re digging yourself into a hole. Your initial solution was excellent, and frankly I’m honored you think so well of me. I’ll go talk to him right now. Just tell me how to get to Pigeonville.”

Sam grinned and slapped him on the back as he led him out of the kitchen. “Way to man up. Seriously, I’ll owe you one if you can get the gun away from Leroy and bury it six feet under.”

Trent just hoped his offer to be a friendly nice guy didn’t put him six feet under as well.

Climbing out of Hell
Coming May 1st 2014

Liza O’Connor Author Bio:
Liza lives in Denville, NJ with her dog Jess. They hike in fabulous woods every day, rain or shine, sleet or snow. Having an adventurous nature, she learned to fly small Cessnas in NJ, hang-glide in New Zealand, kayak in Pennsylvania, ski in New York, scuba dive with great white sharks in Australia, dig up dinosaur bones in Montana, sky dive in Indiana, and raft a class four river in Tasmania. She’s an avid gardener, amateur photographer, and dabbler in watercolors and graphic arts. Yet through her entire life, her first love has and always will be writing novels. She loves to create interesting characters, set them loose, and scribe what happens.


In celebration of Emily’s B-Day
I will give away a copy of Worst Week Ever
Book 1 of the Humorous Romance Story,
A Long Road to Love
Warning: Book One is a Disaster Romance

“Love this book and couldn't stop laughing from beginning to end.” 5 stars – Alves - Amazon
76 reviews: 4.2 stars

Just leave a comment saying you want it and your email address.

Monday, April 28, 2014

Birthday Bash Day 28 - Lisabet Sarai

Birthday Traditions
By Lisabet Sarai

Let me start out by wishing our lovely host Emily a super-happy birthday! I think the actual date has already past, but she's an expert in stretching out the celebration! (It's actually in 2 days, :) but I do love a good celebration)

I thought I'd devote my post to discussing birthday traditions. It's pretty common for people to have specific activities in which they indulge on their birthdays. For example, you might go out to dinner at a particular restaurant. For the last five or six years (with the exception of 2013, when I turned sixty and we had a huge party!), my DH and I have celebrated my birthday by dining at our favorite French restaurant, a little hole in the wall in the most unlikely location imaginable, which nevertheless consistently serves up amazing food and fabulous wine.

We usually follow that with a stop at a bar nearby, also undistinguished except for the fact that it features a great DJ and a massive collection of classic rock music. For me, celebration means dancing, and this bar is one of the only places I know where I let my hair down and shake my booty.

I should mention that my husband's birthday is the day after mine. This means that we get double the celebration every year. I suppose you might argue that it would be better if our natal days were six months apart, so we could have two special nights on the town. On the other hand, if we did it more often, it wouldn't be so special!

There's one weird tradition I follow that dates back to my childhood. When I was a kid, my parents would make me take a bath on the night before my birthday. They told me I had to wash off my (for example) “eight year old skin”, to reveal my “nine year old skin” in all its glory. I don't do baths much anymore, but I still view my pre-birthday-evening shower as an opportunity to slough off the remnants of my past year and prepare for the new one.

My siblings do the same thing. When we call one another to offer birthday greetings, we're bound to ask, “did you wash off your sixty year old skin last night”?

Since we're talking about bathing – or showering at least – I thought I'd throw in a hot, wet excerpt for those of you who, like Emily, are ardent fans of erotic romance. This is from my historical M/M/F ménage tale, Monsoon Fever.


The bathroom was simple, Asian-style, a tiled area with a drain rather than a tub. Lalida had left an ample supply of hot water, filling every bucket and ewer in the house. Cold water came directly from the rain-fed cistern on the roof.

Quickly, before she could think too much about what she was doing, Priscilla stripped off her clothes and kicked them into a corner. She grabbed one of the pitchers of hot water and poured it over her head. Dirt sluiced out of her hair in muddy rivulets and swirled down the drain. The warmth soothed her aching muscles but made her scratches and blisters sting. She picked up a bar of her precious English lavender soap and began smoothing the suds over her breasts and belly. She lingered over the task, savouring the silkiness of her own skin under her fingertips.

The two men watched her, transfixed. Jon’s mouth hung open as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing, but at the same time his trousers were distended by a huge erection. Anil’s lips were parted, his tongue-tip playing unconsciously at the corners. She could see that he was hungry to taste her. For long moments, though, neither man moved.

Her soapy hands slipped easily into the cleft between her thighs. It seemed so natural, to slide her slippery fingers along her folds and stroke the juicy bud of flesh that set her trembling. She had done this so many times; she knew instinctively the path to her own pleasure. No one had ever watched her, of course. Instead of inhibiting her, though, her audience stirred her to new peaks of excitement.

No longer was her self-pleasuring lonely and sterile. Now she was sharing it with the man—the men—that she loved and desired. As she climbed higher, she could see her own arousal reflected in their faces. Neither moved to expose his cock, not yet, but she knew that would come soon.

She rubbed harder, plunging three fingers into her depths while vigorously thumbing her clit. With her other hand, she pinched her soapy nipples, sending sharp bolts of sensation straight to her sex. She moaned, closer every instant to her final release. With her eyes closed, she could still feel their lustful gaze, hear their harsh breathing.


That gives me an idea. Maybe next year I should ask my husband to help me wash off my sixty one year old skin!

Happy Birthday, Emily!
(Thanks a bunch Lisabet!)

About Lisabet:
Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – more than fifty single author titles, plus dozens of short stories in various erotic anthologies, including the Lambda winner Where the Girls Are and the IPPIE Best Erotic Book of 2011, Carnal Machines. Her gay scifi erotic romance Quarantine won a Rainbow Awards 2012 Honorable Mention.

Lisabet has more degrees than anyone would ever need, from prestigious educational institutions who would no doubt be deeply embarrassed by her chosen genre. She has traveled widely and currently lives in Southeast Asia with her indulgent husband and two exceptional felines, where she pursues an alternative career that is completely unrelated to her creative writing.

For more information about Lisabet and her writing, visit her website or her blog Beyond Romance. She also hangs out at the group blog Oh Get a Grip, writes monthly reviews for Erotica Revealed and contributes to the ERWA blog.

Sunday, April 27, 2014

Birthday Bash Day 27 - Nicole Dennis

I met another wonderful gal at RainbowCon who I now have the honor of calling friend. She's sharing one of her character's birthdays today, so without further ado, please welcome Nicole Dennis!

Dorian's Birthday Moment
From the Southern Charm Series

Even in the middle of construction and chaos, Dorian Stewart could see the promise of what the beautiful old Southern plantation-style B&B would become when finished. The Southern Charm was always filled with grace and beauty from the time he came here as a child to enjoy a meal with his mother. From the first time stepping in the doors, Dorian told his mom he would work here one day. It was in the style of any determined kid who wanted to figure out what he would become as a grown-up. His mom laughed, but encouraged him to join her in the kitchen. He learned the basics of cooking and creating from her, but taught more under the studious careful hands and mentoring by head chef Dakota Mitchell and sous chef Malcolm Bissete. Mal became his best friend over the years.

Walking up the back porch, the new 'entrance' during construction, and entering the side hall of the restaurant. Dorian looked around, seeing new signs of construction, but no one was around.

"Hello? Anyone here?"

Turning a corner, Dorian pushed through the doors.


Dorian jumped and screeched at the thundering sound of all the voices screaming together at him.

"Happy Birthday, Dorian!"

Pressing a hand to his chest, Dorian learned how to breathe again. "Holy crap."

"Oops. I think we were a little over enthusiastic," Mal said as he pushed forward through the crowd.

"Ya think?"

Mal cracked up laughing. He wrapped his arms and hugged Dorian off his feet. "Happy birthday, buddy." He patted Dorian's back several times.

"Wasn't expecting all of this," Dorian said.

"Did you think we would forget about your day?"

Dorian shrugged.

"Silly guy," Mal said. "Come on. We have a day planned for you. With a special surprise…"

"What surprise?"

"Me, son, I'm your surprise," someone said with a soft voice.

Dorian turned and saw his mother, Penelope Stewart, appearing from the crowd. Curled in her wheelchair, she had a blanket wrapped around her legs. Most of her body was useless from the ravaging effects of the multiple sclerosis, but her eyes were bright and full of love. He looked from his mom's face to Dakota, who pushed the chair for her.

"Mom, what are you doing here? How…" Dorian crouched in front of her. He kissed her soft cheek, smooth and unwrinkled.

"I wanted to be here and Dakota helped the nurse and I leave the house. There's no way my son would spend his 20th birthday without me."

"Thank you for being here, Mom, but you're not strong enough."

"I'm strong enough for today," Penelope said.

"Come on, Dorian, it's a celebration," Mal said, tugging Dorian away to the gathering crowd.

Hours passed with the celebration, no work, no arguments, and fun. Dorian and his mother enjoyed everything from the music, to the guests, the delicious food, and large cake created for the party.

As the day wore on, Dorian and others could see his mother start to fade. Her energy and health wasn't good. He didn't know how much longer he would have her in his life. This made the celebration even more special. His mother was with him. He would cherish whatever time they had together.

This made this birthday the best he'll have in his life.

See more about Dorian and the others who live and work around the Southern Charm in my new series from Totally Bound.
Book 1: Rules of the Chef – Available now!
Book 2: By the Numbers – Available in May!
Book 3: On the Green – Available in September!

There are four more books.

About Nicole Dennis:
You can find me on Facebook (I sneak in my lil netbook to my office). You can search and friend me and join my page. I'm on Goodreads. I also have a blog/website – but I'm not the best at keeping them up-to-date. (blushes) I'm trying. Honest!

Email me – nicoledennis.author@gmail.com! I love hearing from readers and interacting. In October, I'll be at GRL as a Reader, but you can still 'attack' me for autographs and info.

Saturday, April 26, 2014

Birthday Bash Day 26 - Lia Davis

I had the pleasure of also meeting my next guest at the Coastal Magic Convention this past February. I had a great time getting to talk to her and I got to hear all about her new Sons of War series which she’s sharing here today. So please help me welcome Lia Davis.

Happy birthday, Emily! Thanks so much for having me over to celebrate with you. I'm not a huge birthday person. I share my birthday with my hubby and I'm happy that he too isn't into big celebrations. We go to dinner, sometimes a movie, and just enjoy being with each other.It's a prefect, relaxing evening with the love of my life. Do any of you have birthday traditions? 

War’s Passion, Sons of War book 1

After losing her parents in a brutal attack from a monster straight out of her nightmares, Gwendolyn Preston tries to pick up the shattered pieces of her life. Along with her best friend, she moves to a small fishing village on the coast of Maine to find a new life away from the nightmares that haunt her. Just when she believes her life could go back to normal, the deliciously dark and handsome Markus Sullivan disrupts her hopes to grieve in peace.

Markus drew the short straw when it came to being the liaison between his father, Ares—God of War—and his brothers. When he discovers that the earth bound demi-gods, known as the descendants, have banded together to start another rebellion against the gods, it becomes his number one priority to stop them. 

That is until he meets Gwen, the granddaughter of Aphrodite, and the next target of the descendants. Together, their path is rife with passion and danger. It might take more than the son of War to win this battle…Gwen herself.

Find it in eBook at Amazon | B&N | ARe | Kobo
Find it in paperback at Amazon

Markus closed his eyes as he stroked his fingers over the keys of the baby grand piano in the great room. The music flowed and filled the air around him, and twined in his soul. He loved the peace it offered. Each note calmed his inner beast in a way nothing else did.

A shift of energy made him opened his eyes. Releasing a low annoyed groan, he stared into Aphrodite’s sky blue gaze. She wore a white pants suit and her blond hair hung in thick waves around her shoulders. He stopped playing and slammed the cover over the keys.

The goddess straightened from where she leaned over the side of the piano and folded her arms. “Why did you stop? You know I love to hear you play.”

Standing, he gave her his back and peered out the French doors leading to the gardens in the backyard. “What do you want, Aphrodite?”

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw her roll her eyes, sit down on the bench, and cross her legs. With a little sigh, she opened the cover over the keys and smiled at him. “Nothing,” she sing-songed. “I’d thought I would stop by and visit with one of my favorite dragons.”

Markus snorted—the goddess never just stopped by. She always had a purpose for her visits. It usually meant he would have to be involved in something dangerous, annoying, or odd. “Have you seen War?”

One slender shoulder raised in a shrug and she pressed the C key. “No. I think he’s avoiding me.”

“That makes two of us.” Markus studied her for several moments. She seemed preoccupied. Usually she hovered close to him or his brothers when she wanted something and annoyed them in a motherly way in her effort to bend them to her will. Yet, tonight she just ran a finger back and forth over the keys, not making a sound. “What’s wrong?”

Not looking at him, she sighed. “Gwendolyn needs your help.”

Dread hit him in the gut, then crept its way up his spine. If Aphrodite was asking him for help, it couldn’t be good. Usually the gods didn’t give three shits about the demi-gods. “Why me?”

A sad smile formed on her face as she held his gaze. “Because I can’t get involved any more than I already am. Her life is in danger. Besides, she’s the last of my mortal children.”

Blowing out a breath, he ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what I can do.” That was a lie. No matter how much he told himself that, he knew what he had to do. Garrick couldn’t be allowed to unlock any more descendants’ powers. The balance of the worlds was shifting.

Aphrodite stood and narrowed her gaze. “Yes, you do. Protect her. Keep Garrick from capturing her.” Then she dematerialized and ended the argument. Playing bodyguard—especially to the goddess of love’s granddaughter—was the last thing he wanted.

About the Author:
Lia Davis is a mother to two young adults and two very special kitties, a wife to her soul mate, a paranormal romance author, and co-owner to Fated Desires Publishing, LLC. She and her family live in Northeast Florida battling hurricanes and very humid summers. But it’s her home and she loves it!

An accounting major, Lia has always been a dreamer with a very active imagination. The wheels in her head never stop. She ventured into the world of writing and publishing in 2008 and loves it more than she imagined. Writing is stress reliever that allows her to go off in her corner of the house and enter into another world that she created, leaving real life where it belongs.

Her favorite things are spending time with family, traveling, reading, writing, chocolate, coffee, nature and hanging out with her kitties.