Sunday, 29 April 2012

Spotlight - Karenna Colcroft

Hi everyone,
                    Today I would like to welcome the fabulous Karenna Colcroft. We are chatting about her new book 'Lost Soul' and romantic moments. Karenna has written a string of books in both the romance and young adult genres. 'Lost Soul' will be released on May 4th by MLR Press.

      Hi Karenna, could you tell us a little about yourself ?

I’ve been writing since age five, and I started writing erotic romance in 2006. Since 2009, I’ve had several romances and several young adult books published. I have a really weird imagination, which suits me well, and I usually have way too many plot ideas. I live with my two teenage kids and my real-life romance hero husband, along with a couple of cats, one of whom sheds enough to make an entire third cat.

            Where are you from & why do you love it?

I’m from New England (the northeastern United States). I love it because our seasons are well-defined. It’s wonderful feeling the weather warm up as we move from winter into spring, and seeing the flowers and trees blooming. And the fall foliage colors are amazing. Heck, I even like our winter snows, as long as I don’t have to shovel.

      What type of romance do you write?

Most of my heterosexual romances are contemporary, though I have one paranormal that was released in 2010 and another paranormal (werewolf) novel coming out this summer. Most of my M/M romances are paranormal, but I have a contemporary short story that came out on Valentine’s Day of this year, and another that will hopefully be out in July. Those are the two genres I focus on, and almost all of my stuff has some erotic content.

      What is your most recent publication?
My most recent publication is an M/M paranormal novel called Lost Soul, which is due for release on the 4th of May. It’s about Joel Turcotte, a motivational speaker who also happens to be a sorcerer. Joel fuels his magic by taking pieces of human souls during sex, specifically at orgasm. When he meets Lanny Hollister, he encounters the strongest soul he’s ever found, and he’s afraid to take anything from him. But Joel isn’t the only sorcerer who’s found Lanny, and he has to protect the human from the others—and from himself.


I’m inspired by a lot of things. Stuff I see on TV; conversations I overhear in public; dreams. You name it. Lost Soul was actually inspired by one of my husband’s dreams that he told me about.

      Most romantic moment you’ve ever had.

The most romantic moment I’ve ever had was the night I met my husband. We were at a barbecue in a mutual friend’s backyard, along with about a hundred other people. He and I had chatted a bit online, but had never met in person before. I introduced myself to him with my screen name, and his face lit right up. He told me he’d been hoping to meet me. We started talking and dancing, and by the end of that night there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that we belonged together. I have a photo of us that was taken about half an hour after that first introduction, and the way we’re looking at each other is definitely love, even though it took about a month for us to actually say the word.

           You can find out more about me and my books on my website,, or come chat with me on my Facebook group,

Blurb for Lost Soul:
Sorcerer Joel Turcotte fuels his magic by stealing pieces of people’s souls during sex. Since he caused the death of his lover a decade ago, he’s careful to only take small pieces, but he regrets each one. When he meets Lanny Turcotte, he finds the strongest soul he’s ever encountered, and one that’s almost impossible to resist. Although Joel is reluctant to become involved with anyone, he and Lanny begin a relationship.
But Joel isn’t the only sorcerer who wants Lanny. Can Joel protect his lover from other sorcerers—and from himself?

Joel hadn’t planned to show up at the dealership early, but after spending the day preparing his presentation he’d decided he was too antsy and bored to wait. Since he had to drive directly along one of the major rush hour routes from Winthrop to Medford, he decided to head to the dealership earlier than he’d intended. Of course, rush hour traffic didn’t really impact him when he didn’t want it to, with the result that he arrived at Brigham Lincoln-Mercury just before four-thirty.
The moment he stepped out of his car, a sense of magic hit him like a blow. One of the other sorcerers was there. He didn’t know any of them by sight, but he could recognize their presence, just as they doubtless were able to recognize his. One of them was there, and he didn’t think whoever it was had anything good in mind.
He looked in through the showroom window. Most of the people inside appeared to be employees. He saw only a handful of people who might have been customers, and most of them were very engaged in filling out paperwork.
One of them, however, sat by himself and didn’t look like he had much intention of buying anything. Joel’s senses screamed that this was the sorcerer. He looked like the stereotypical rich guy: perfectly coiffed hair, an expensive jacket that was most likely genuine leather, and so much jewelry it sparkled even through the window.
A car stopped beside Joel, and a harried-looking young man exited it. Joel glanced at him, then did a double-take.
The man shone. Something inside him called out to Joel, and it genuinely shone.
The other man also did a double-take. “You’re Joel Turcotte.” He sounded awed.
“Yes.” Even though Joel was used to people knowing who he was, his heart gave a little jump at being recognized by this guy. “And you are?”
“Lanny Hollister.” The guy extended his hand over the roof of the Lincoln MKz he’d just exited. “One of the salesmen here. I’m looking forward to your workshop.”
When Joel touched Lanny’s hand, a jolt shot through him, and he felt as if he was drinking power. Lanny’s soul was one of the strongest he’d ever encountered. Now he knew without a doubt why the other sorcerer was here, and what he planned to do.
He seriously doubted Lanny had any awareness of those plans.
He studied the other man. With his initial reaction to Lanny’s soul strength now beginning to fade, he realized that in addition to the soul, the guy was hot. About six feet tall, slightly wavy black hair, skin that Joel’s grandmother would have called “sun-kissed.” Lanny’s eyes were a startling blue, accentuated by the dark blue suit and royal blue necktie the man wore. The other sorcerer’s interest probably wasn’t purely in Lanny’s soul; the means of soul-ripping would be undeniably enjoyable with someone who looked like Lanny. His cock twitched at the thought.
With a soul as strong as Lanny’s, few sorcerers would be able to resist ripping the man to the point of coma, if not death. Joel refused to let that happen.

Thanks so much Karenna for dropping by.

Buy Links -

Nicole  x

Wednesday, 25 April 2012

Hi everyone,
                     Just had some fantastic news - Pink Petal Books has accepted 'Until The Stars Burn Cold'. Yay!!!!!!
I'm so happy that I will be able to introduce Jinn and Mia to you all.

Until The Stars Burn Cold – In 776, Ranjinn is trying to escape with his true love Shuri from the town of Adwan and her uncle’s influence. Her uncle, Kansbar has promised Shuri in marriage to another.  Kansbar is a master of the dark arts and he stops the young lover from fleeing. He curses Jinn into a ring and delivers Shuri to her intended groom, thus separating the couple forever. The centuries pass and Jinn is still a captive of the ring; that is until present day antiques dealer Mia Templeton accidentally releases him.

Saturday, 21 April 2012

Spotlight - Rhyll Biest

Hi everyone,
                     I would like to thank Rhyll Biest for joining me for a chat. Ryll is a self proclaimed scatter-brained perfectionist and an insomniac; who lives in the penal colony of Canberra (Australia) and is working hard on an exit strategy from her day job. Rhyll's super hot story 'Russian Heat' appears in the 'Dangerous Men, Dangerous Places' Anthology.

  What type of romance do you write?
        Erotic romance, but also have a paranormal manuscript I’m working on.

             What was the first thing you had published?

        An article on ‘bus-tration’ (the frustration of bus transport in Brisbane, Australia) for my university magazine, I think.
  What is your most recent publication?
        The Russian Heat story in the Dangerous Men, Dangerous Places anthology

    When did you realize you wanted to be a writer?

          Since I was a uni student, but only since the advent of e-publishing did I feel I could break into fiction.
     If you weren’t a writer what would you be?
           More physically active.

Big, burly and bristling with high-powered weapons, Vlad and Slava are the best bodyguards and hostile environment consultants Russian money can buy. They’re also about to meet their five-foot match. Government veterinarian Jane Ransom expected explosives, shelling and bad-tempered ewes while working in Russia’s war-ravaged Caucasus mountains, but nobody warned her about excessively hot Russian bodyguards. Or long hours spent sandwiched between them in a backseat designed for two. Too bad for the Russians that Jane’s learned the hard way about men and commitment, and would sooner be run over by a troika than succumb to lust. But while their client might be reluctant to take a risk of the carnal variety, Vlad and Slava have her firmly in their sights, and neither will abandon their mission to keep her hostage in their bed until she surrenders and realises she belongs to them—for keeps.

A thunderous explosion rocked the snow-dotted mountains, the blast jerking Jane Ransom’s head up from the hypodermic she held poised.
As the rumble echoed across the mountains and shook the dirt under her feet, shale and pebbles slid down the incline and cloven hooves scrabbled around her, raising a cloud of dust. Panicked fleeces flashed by, a blur in her peripheral vision as the ewe between her knees began to struggle, joining in the nervous bleat of the flock.
Tightening her aching legs around its girth, she locked the bicep turning its head at a thirty degree angle and held on long enough to finish swabbing the puncture site and collect her blood sample.
Her back twinged as she freed the ewe and straightened, the ripe smell of lanolin-rich wool fading from her nostrils.
Her hundredth customer done and dusted, despite the half-hearted shelling rattling the Vodsk Pass all day. Another hundred samples and she could confirm the epidemic pathogen type in these parts.
Adrenalin from her struggle with the ewe kept charging through her veins, addling her brain and making her slow to notice the way Vlad had raised his rifle and Slava was scoping the west ridge with binoculars. Hired guns they might be, but their training and instincts were excellent, and she’d learned to pay attention when they paid attention. And follow orders. Like the one Slava issued now. He eyed her and pointed at the all-terrain vehicle with a familiar, nerve-grating gesture.
Muttering, she stashed her blood-filled vacutainer in her storage box, grabbed her sharps bucket and high-tailed it to the safety of the armour-plated Zhiguli.
Yuri sat behind the wheel, a battered, hand-rolled smoke dangling from his lower lip. His rollie filled the car with tobacco fumes pungent enough to make diving back out into the war zone a temptation. Barely eighteen, downy fluff coated his top lip and he swam inside his body armour, unlike the two men backing toward her with rifle points raised.
Viacheslav Alexandrovich Vlasov and Vladislav Ivanovich Markov. When she’d first heard their names she thought she’d have to call them V1 and V2, then she’d heard them call each other Slava and Vlad and had stuck with that. The two were military through and through, cocky from boot tip to brush cut, their good looks a warning shot to celibacy. She’d bet her last vacutainer they’d left a trail of broken hearts all the way from Vladivostok to St. Petersburg. One look at her appointed hostile environment consultants and she’d realised that hob-nobbing through the Caucasus Mountains sampling animals for anthrax and other diseases would be the least dangerous part of her job.
As she shed her body armour and helmet behind the car door, Vlad sank to kneel beside her, rifle point angled at the west ridge. Her heart did a lazy flip-flop because she knew what he would say next—what he always said when it was time to get back in the car.
“Sandwich time, Jane.”
Oh, God.

Buying Links -:


Wednesday, 18 April 2012

Hi everyone,
                     I thought I would share a medieval book curse with you. As you know books in the Middle Ages were considered precious. Stunning examples of illuminated script can still be seen. If I remember rightly the British Museum has a heap. Anyway as so much time, money and effort were put into the creations of these books curses were put in place to protect them.

For him that stealeth, or borroweth and returneth not, this book from its owner, let it change into a serpent in his hand and rend him. Let him be struck with palsy, and all his members blasted. Let him languish in pain crying out for mercy, & let there be no surcease to his agony till he sing in dissolution. Let bookworms gnaw his entrails [. . .] when at last he goeth to his final punishment, let the flames of Hell consume him forever.
From Bibliomania and the Medieval Curse

Nice huh?

Nicole  x

Saturday, 14 April 2012

Spotlight - Janice Seagraves

Hi everyone,
                    Today I have the delectable Janice Seagraves    joining me. Janice was born, raised and still lives in a small Californian farming community. She lives in a haunted house (yes, I did say haunted!) with her husband, daughter, two cats and a German Shepherd puppy. Janice writes erotic romances in various genres.

     What type of romance do you write?
My debut book, Windswept Shores, is an erotic contemporary romance. It is set in the Bahamas on a deserted island.
The sole survivor of a plane crash, Megan is alone on a deserted island in the Bahamas until she finds a nearly-drowned man washed up on shore. Another survivor, this time from a boat wreck. With only meagre survival skills between them, will they survive and can they find love?
But I’m working on a science fiction romance series that I hope to launch sometime this year.
     What was the first thing you had published?
In the eighth grade I had a book writing assignment, when I turn it in to my teacher, Ms. O’Kane, she loved it. It was about a horse. Yes, I’m a former horse nut. She told my parents with my imagination that I should be a writer. Ms. O’Kane was the first person to ever encourage me to be a writer.
     When did you realize you wanted to be a writer?
Late, lol.
I was about twenty when I started to write, but my artwork kept distracting me. I did sculpture and pen and ink drawings, mostly of fantasy creatures. I won best in show and several blue ribbons for my artwork.
During the 90’s, I sold country wood cut-outs with sayings painted on them which I designed, cut out (with a scroll saw) and painted myself. You might remember the cows, chickens and crows that were so popular during that period of time.
However, once I contracted tendonitis doing any kind of artwork turned out to be a painful experience. It was a huge let down not to be able to do the one thing that had always brought me so much joy in my life.
Then I found I could still type.
Believing that when God closes a door, he opens a window--I at long last turned my full attention to the characters that were clamouring away in my head.
How the perfect romantic moment got ruined!

This happen a few years ago:
My daughter was at her Nana's, my tired husband had just arrived home from work, and I was writing on my computer.
Hubby greeted me with a kiss, and then dropped onto his favorite chair to rest while he watched TV.
After a moment my fingers stilled on the keyboard and I glanced back at my handsome husband.
Hey . . . we're . . . . alone!
So I sauntered on over to my husband, and leaned over him to say in what I had hoped was a seductive manner, "I . . . want . . . to . . . take . . . your . . . clothes . . . off . . . with . . . my . . . teeth."
He looked at me blankly, and said, "Huh?"
So I said it again, still trying for that sexy husky voice, "I want to take your clothes off with my teeth."
"Huh? Can you say that again?"
Louder, and with a whole lot less meaning I repeated through gritted teeth, "I-want-to-take-your-clothes-off-with-my-teeth!"
"Oh. I tough you said . . . .”
It was my turn to say, "Huh? Can you repeat that please, because I don't think I heard you right?"
So he repeated it, "I thought you said; ‘I want to pee on you with tea.’"
Well, that spoilt the mood! Either I need to work on my seduction techniques, or my husband needs a hearing aide!

 The sole survivor of a plane crash, Megan is alone on a deserted island in the Bahamas until she finds a nearly-drowned man washed up on shore. Another survivor, this time from a boat wreck. With only meager survival skills between them, will they survive and can they find love?
EXCERPT:Breathing hard, she flicked a glance at the teal-colored sea. She’d thought a vacation to the Bahamas would be the perfect getaway, would be a solution to the problems she and Jonathan had faced. She’d been wrong—dead wrong. Tears of grief filled her eyes. The never-ending crash of the waves on the beach and the cries of the seagulls seemed to mock her with the reminder she was utterly alone.
She’d felt like a tiny speck of sand last night when a violent storm had swept across the island. It had made a mess of her meager campsite, which had taken all morning to fix, and had demolished her seaweed SOS sign. She’ll have to recreate her SOS. Sighing, Megan trudged toward a pile of kelp. As she got closer, she saw a figure wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt.
Her stomach lurched.
Oh, God, it’s another body washed up from the plane wreck. That would be number twelve. As always, she couldn’t help but wonder if the next one would be Jonathan. He hadn’t been wearing jeans on the plane, so she knew she’d been spared seeing his corpse this time. Thank God. She approached the body with dread. Tightening her resolve, she knelt. Suddenly the “dead body” coughed and rolled over. With a scream, Megan jumped back. She clutched her chest and pressed a shaking hand to her mouth.
He’s alive!
Biting her lip, she stared down at the still-breathing man. His drenched t-shirt molded against his broad shoulders and well developed upper body. Short, golden brown hair stuck out in all directions.
Megan, get control of yourself. Don’t wet your pants the first time you finally see a living person. She got on her knees, plucked the seaweed from him and wiped the sand from his face. His day-old whiskers scratched her palm. Reddened skin stretched across both cheekbones and over the bridge of his nose. Her thumb caressed his parched full bottom lip.
She patted the side of his face. “Hey, are you okay?” That’s a dumb question. He isn’t okay.
“Hmm?” Gray eyes fluttered open. He stared at her a long moment, frowning slightly. “G’day.”
“Hello there.” She hated the sound of her voice. It sounded rusty, unused.
Abruptly he rolled away from her to heave onto the sand, making a loud, ugly retching noise.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then looked at her. “Sorry, mate, I swallowed too much sea.” His gaze went over her shoulder in the direction of the bonfire which crackled and popped not far from them. “Mite big for a barbie.”
Sitting back on her heels with her hands folded in her lap, Megan followed his gaze, then back to him. “My signal fire.”
“Signal for what?”
His accent intrigued her. Was he English or Australian?
“G’darn,” he looked around, “where the bloody hell am I?”
“Don’t know. There’s no one here to ask.” Megan shrugged helplessly, but couldn’t contain her curiosity. “Are you from England?”
“Naw,” he rubbed his eyes, “I hail from Sydney, but my port of call these days is Fort Lauderdale.” He blinked up at her. “You?”
Ah, he’s an Aussie. “I’m Megan Lorry, from Anaheim, California,” she said, barely loud enough to be heard above the sounds of the surf and the roar from the fire. “Are you a survivor of Air Bahamas flight 227, too?”
Buying Links -:
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Friday, 13 April 2012

Capturing Bliss

Hi everyone,
                     Capturing Bliss is in the Book Spotlight at You Gotta Read Reviews!


Sunday, 8 April 2012

Spotlight - Krystal Brookes

Hi everyone,
                     Today I would like to introduce the fabulous Krystal Brookes. Her first story 'Bounty' appears in the 'Dangerous Men, Dangerous Places' Anthology which is published by Pink Petal Books. Krystal lives in a small village on the west coast of Scotland. She is lucky enough not only to have some of the world's most beautiful scenery but also a 14th century castle on her doorstep. (I'm so jealous!)
                      Krystal is a secondary teacher and enjoys reading, knitting, playing bass recorder and procrastinating - and apparently she spends half her life on Facebook!

 What type of romance do you write?

I write contemporary and science fiction romance mainly though I’m open to other genres.

What was the first thing you had published?

Hmm, I guess it depends on your definition of published.  I never tried to get anything published until now.  I have self published fan fiction on the internet and my first story, “A Different Course,” was published in January 2011 under the pen name Libby Kim.

What is your most recent publication?

My short story “Bounty” has been released as part of the Dangerous Men, Dangerous Places Anthology from Pink Petal Books. It’s available in both print and ebook at  It’s a sci fi tale.

Gemma is a bounty hunter who crash lands her shuttle into a prison planet.  The man who helps her is someone who she captured.  They are drawn together but how will he react when he finds out who she is?

I have many.  Enid Blyton and Francine Pascale are responsible for my love of reading and books. Colleen McCulloch, Christine Marion Fraser, Sophie Kinsella, Molly Harper and Lynsay Sands are all writers I have loved over the years.  The three erotica writers who I look up to most are my editor (and fellow author) Em Petrova, Suzanne Rock and of course, you, Nicole. I loved Capturing Bliss. (Nicole didn’t pay me to say this and I do hope she doesn’t edit it out)

Disclaimer - No, I didn't pay for the blatant plug!
            *Nicole winks & hands Krystal a small pouch of gold*

      Most romantic moment you’ve ever had. 
I lived six hours drive away from a boyfriend (who lived in England) and I said I missed him (though my wording may have had more of an explicit promise) and three hours later he texted me to say that he was just passing Gretna Green (the border between Scotland and England) and to get the kettle on in an hour or so.  I think he was lucky he didn’t catch any speed cameras.
Bounty by Krystal Brookes
sensual science fiction romance

When Gemma Scott’s shuttle crash lands on Alcatraz prison planet, she’s sure of one thing: if the impact doesn’t kill her, the inmates will. She wakes up in the hut of a convicted terrorist and wonders how long it will be until the handsome but dangerous man discovers she was the one who arrested him two years earlier. As their attraction grows, they work together to help Gemma escape the dangerous planet. But they can’t deny the sparks that fly between them.

They worked together for about an hour without saying very much. When he looked over her shoulder to see what she was doing, his warm breath made her shiver with anticipation. Occasionally Gemma asked for a tool and Rob looked through them until he found whatever she had asked for. Then he held it out to her, making eye-contact and holding onto the tool slightly longer than was necessary. She knew that he was impressed with her abilities and she smiled to herself. He had obviously thought she was completely helpless. Yes, she had been afraid and to an extent, she still was. But she would not let that stop her.
“You don’t seem to be strong enough to be a bounty hunter,” he said suddenly.
“Who said being a bounty hunter was anything to do with strength?” she asked.
“Well, you bring in all these violent criminals. I would have thought that you needed some amount of strength for that.”
“You’re stronger than me, aren’t you?” she noted.
“Yes,” he conceded.
“I caught you.”
“You snuck up on me.”
“Well this is not the OK Corral. Different rules apply. I’m not legally obliged to allow you to walk twenty paces away from me before I shoot you.”
“Fair enough, but you must have captured good marksmen and more wily prey than me.”
“Yes, but I have other talents.”
“Such as?”
She smiled at him over her shoulder.
“Let’s just say that there are some situations in life where men are the weaker sex.”
His snort of derision made her eyes narrow and her mouth set in a determined line.
“It’s very hot in here,” she said softly before pulling off her t-shirt. He raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing. She continued to work on the engine for a few minutes in her bra and leather pants, before turning to find him watching her intently. She turned toward him and smiled again, this time crawling over to him and raising herself so that her breasts were level with his mouth.
She raised her hands and ran them through his soft brown hair. She watched as he licked his lips, dragging his eyes from the lace covering her pert orbs, up to her eyes. She knew this was a dangerous game she was playing. She really wanted to prove her point and he was not her prey. For hours she’d longed to know how it felt to have his lips surround her nipple and suck on it. The very thought send a spear of want to her core.
He gently kissed the skin just above the lace of her bra. She was straddling his legs and could feel him harden underneath her. She pushed him back gently until he was lying down, then covered his body with hers, claiming his lips in a fervent kiss. As he tangled his fingers in her hair and deepened the kiss, she groaned.
This had started out as an exercise to show him how weak men were and how easily they fell prey to her feminine wiles. But it had backfired on her. She pulled back and looked down into Rob Paris’s passion-filled brown eyes. She smiled as she gently removed her pistol from the holster on his side and pressed it into his neck.
“Like I said, in some situations, men are very weak.”
She watched as fear flashed across his features. Just as quickly though, it was gone.
“So this is how you catch your prey?” he growled.

Buying Link


Tuesday, 3 April 2012

Capturing Bliss Review

Hi everyone,
                     Capturing Bliss just received a wonderful review from My Book Addiction Reviews - 4.5 stars ...woohoo!

Monday, 2 April 2012

This & That

Hi everyone,
                     I would like start off by saying that 'Capturing Bliss' came 3rd in the You Gotta Read Cover Contest - Yay!
                     I'm very excited to announce that starting from next week I will be chatting with several authors. The first off the plate is Ms. Krystal Brookes. Her story, 'Bounty' is included in the rather hot Dangerous Men, Dangerous Places anthology which is due for release this month.
                     I'm drowning in ideas at the moment. My ideas file in the cabinet is growing wider and wider. I'm trying very hard to stay focused on one story at a time, the problem is I can get distracted very easily. I have vowed to remain true to my current work in progress, 'Rain' and not dally with any of my other dozen projects until it is finished. But that doesn't stop the ideas from materializing and enticing me with their wanton charms. I swear at this rate I will have to live to a hundred and twenty to get them all written. I write as quick as I can but it never seems fast enough and all the time Andrew Marvell's words seem to spin in my head -:
                      But at my back I alwais hear
                      Times winged Charriot hurrying near:
                      And yonder all before us lye
                      Desarts of vast Eternity.

I've been so busy talking about Capturing Bliss I have neglected my poor little first born - The Trinket Seller's Daughter. It is a medieval story which is set in Britain. Lost in a great forest, Emelin must discover which is more important - revenge or love.

Nicole  x