Monday, 14 April 2014

Christy Gissendaner...In Too Deep!

Well, I am always happy to welcome my pub sister and friend Christy Gissendaner to the blog. However, when she brings such a dishy specimen of man, she kicks it up a notch. Please help me welcome Christy as she tells us about In Too Deep!

            Take one bridesmaid. Mix in one sexy alpha wolf. Toss is in a pinch of danger. And voila! You have my latest release, In Too Deep. For this one, I got to combine several of my favorite things. Shifters, weddings, beaches, and mermaids. I know, I know. It seems like an odd mixture, but I had a lot of fun writing it.
            I haven’t publicized the “secret” behind Emma’s (the heroine) background on purpose. It’s even mentioned she’s “human” in the blurb. That isn’t entirely true. As I wrote this book, I noticed I mentioned the ocean and the current quite a bit during Emma’s scenes. So when I came up with the idea to expand on the paranormal nature of the book and explained it to my husband, he gave me the crazy eye. Mermaids? Really? I knew I wanted her ancestry to be a bit of a twist, but even I didn’t expect it to come together like it did.
            Wolves and mermaids do seem an awkward pairing, but trust me. It’s not as simple as it seems. Emma isn’t quite a mermaid, although she does have an affinity for water that is quite awesome, in my humble opinion.
            And check out that cover? Isn’t Drake one sexy hunk of an alpha male? But perhaps even better than the man on the cover, is the little hint of what’s to come that can be found on the left side. See that little fin flipping there? I loved having it included. And no, it’s not a whale. ; )
            Before I go, I would like to thank Rosanna for having me! I’ve been a fan of hers since book one and it’s always a joy being here.
            Happy reading, ya’ll!

In Too Deep
Christy Gissendaner

Genre: Contemporary, Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Etopia Press

Number of pages: 274
Word Count: 54,654

Book Description:

He’ll risk everything for the love of one human.
Agreeing to be her good friend’s bridesmaid, Emma Anderson jets off to Tybee Island for the wedding. Her dress is perfect and her shoes are adorable, but her friend’s elegant beachside home hides an ancient secret…one that threatens to expose a secret society of werewolves.
 Drake Randolph has watched his sister’s friend grow into a ravishing woman, but he’s always kept his distance. As the heir to the Randolph fortune and the alpha of the Secret Society of Savannah Lycanthropes, Drake cannot afford to draw the innocent little brunette into the dangerous lycan world.
 Passion between them soon blazes hotter than the Georgia summer. But when the wrong woman is kidnapped to prevent the wedding of a lycan to a mortal, Drake must risk everything to save Emma from the ones who will see the downfall of all he holds dear.
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Short Excerpt
Kicking off her white sandals, she descended a set of wooden stairs and stepped onto the sand. It squished between her toes, damp and still warm from the heat of the afternoon. The moon shone over the water, gleaming in the waves pulling toward the shore.
She stood at the water’s edge. The current sucked at her toes, burying them in sand, and she absorbed the soothing sounds of nature. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. Perfect.
For a moment, she flashed back to her childhood. Not the endless summers she’d spent with the Randolphs. Earlier than that, long before her father’s death. A memory floated out of her grasp, on the edges of her subconscious but always moving away from her.
The water surrounded her ankles, the tendrils of the tide resembling a caress. As if someone touched her.
She opened her eyes, startled by the sensation.
A particularly large wave crashed around her legs. Thrown off-balance by the unexpected surge, she stumbled a bit until she regained her footing. Whatever memory she’d been chasing fled, replaced by the shock of the water splashing against her knees.
She returned her attention to the water. It eddied around her, the glow of the moonlight reflected in the tiny swirls of liquid. Bending down, she touched the surface and a jolt of energy poured through her. She lurched backward just as another wave crashed against her.
Weird. She moved closer to the shore, not afraid of the ocean but concerned by her reaction to it. Something wasn’t right.
The cry of a seagull jerked her back to the present. She glanced down and grimaced at the soaked bottom half of her dress. She didn’t mind as much as she should. At least the delightfully cool water eased some of the oppressive heat of the day.
The breeze, which had been strong all day, caressed her bare shoulders and ruffled her hair. She lifted her arms and twirled, letting out a tiny sound of pleasure.
At the end of her twirl, she caught sight of a figure standing alone on the patio. The moonlight wasn’t needed for her to recognize Drake. No one else had such a commanding presence. He tugged at her heart like the ocean’s current tugged at her ankles.

About the Author:
Christy Gissendaner is a romantic comedy author and believes that laughter and love should go hand in hand.

Christy lives in Alabama with her husband and three sons. She’s always hard at work on her next novel, but in her spare time she loves blackjack, karaoke, and anything resembling a vacation!

To find out more, please visit


Thursday, 10 April 2014

Diane Saxon...Flynn's Kiss!

It is a true pleasure to welcome pub buddy Diane Saxon to the Room today. I'm very eager to hear more about her hot new book.
Welcome Diane!

Thank you so much for having me here today.
I have to tell you I am so excited about Flynn’s Kiss.
I fell in love with this bad boy hero of mine many years ago when I first wrote one scene. I never expected to become an author, but something compelled me to put down on paper the thoughts I had in my head.
It was only when we were moving house last year that I came across a couple of pages of writing. It was smudged and wrinkled and had been in the top drawer of my bedside cabinet for – well, I can’t remember. Certainly at least ten years.
I think his character, for me, was so strong that having discovered him again he edged his way into someone else’s book (Finding Zoe – Atlantic Divide Book 3) and made himself known. I had several enquiries as to whether he was going to have his own story – by that time, it was almost written.
This is a little taster of the scene I wrote all those years ago:

She spoke softly, but in the quiet of the early evening, her voice carried clearly, emphasizing the slight wobble to betray her nervousness.
He turned his head and stared at her, his eyes direct and piercing, his chin lowered in what she recognized as a defensive gesture, designed to deter her advance. The dappled light from the fading sun gave his beautiful face an ethereal and almost sinister look, emphasized by his complete stillness, his silent watchfulness.
She took a hesitant step forward and stopped at the slightest movement of his chin raising. She wished she hadn’t come, wanted to run, but she’d trapped herself, and in all honesty, she hadn’t quite expected this response. They were both adults, for heaven’s sake, and one of them should take the initiative and make their meeting less uncomfortable.
She removed the Stetson from her head, no longer in peril of burning her skin as the sun lowered. His gaze flicked down to the pretty yellow hat as a few more of its feathers detached themselves and fluttered to the ground. His wicked eyebrow flicked up briefly, and then his expression returned to deadpan.
“I owe you an apology.”
Silence filled the gap until she huffed out a breath and tried again.
“You’ve been conspicuous by your absence lately. People are missing you and I feel…responsible.” Embarrassment coursed through her. She had no idea she would have to try so hard to reach him. Convinced she simply needed to see him again for everything to be all right, it came as a debasing shock to realize he had indeed been avoiding her.
She tried to keep her hands still, but her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own, twisting around the brim of her new hat. She saw his gaze flick down to stare at them and forced herself to drop them back down to her sides, holding her hat in one hand, aware of the shedding of yet more bright feathers. His attention centered on her again as she gave a small cough.
“The other night, when we…” She blew out a disgusted breath at her painful reticence. She was supposed to be the mature one here. “…when we had sex. I thought it was mutual. I know I took the lead and did all the seducing, but maybe I didn’t take into consideration you weren’t interested—you seemed interested at the time, you…” She swallowed a heavy lump in her throat. He’d been as hard as rock, but maybe he’d fantasized about someone else.

Severely scarred during a disastrous mission, ex special forces Flynn Swann is home after three years of avoidance. By his own admission, he’s no good with women and the last thing he expects or wants is the attention of a curvy little brunette, who’s just passing through.
With apparently no fear or revulsion of his scarred face, the boisterous woman bounds into his life and destroys all hope of a quiet visit. It is obvious to literally everyone that she wants him—all of him.
Worse still, despite her atrocious taste in fashion and Stetsons, she appears to have won the hearts of the entire town.
Scientist Liberty Sophia Glennon is on a mission to find a man before she has to return to the loneliness of the New Zealand outback where she has already spent eighteen lonely months doing research.
A ticking hormone bomb, Liberty feels time is running away with her. Outwardly she is a bouncing ball of over-confidence, but inside she is still a frightened little girl with horrific memories of her childhood and a desperate need to be liked.
Completely unfazed by his external scars, her seduction of Flynn is not so difficult, but follow-through proves painful as Liberty realizes Flynn’s wounds run further than just skin deep.
With apparently nothing in common but their passionate attraction, how will these two damaged souls deal with each other’s fear of rejection?

About the Author

Diane Saxon lives in the Shropshire countryside with her tall, dark, handsome husband, two gorgeous daughters, a Dalmatian, one-eyed kitten, ginger cat, and four chickens.
After working for years in a demanding job, on-call and travelling great distances, Diane gave it all up when her husband said “follow that dream.”
Having been hidden all too long, her characters have burst forth demanding plot lines of their own and she’s found the more she lets them, the more they’re inclined to run wild.

Flynn’s Kiss Buy Links

Where to Find Diane Saxon

Previous Books:               Loving Lydia -Atlantic Divide Book 1
Bad Girl Bill – Atlantic Divide Book 2
Finding Zoe - Atlantic Divide Book 3
Flight of Her Life

Wednesday, 9 April 2014

Susan Hayes...Tiger Trap!

I am a huge fan of Canadian author Susan Hayes' work. Not only does she write about some very sexy selkies, she has expanded her repertoire into the world of shifters. I'm very pleased to show off her new book today. Please help me welcome Susan!

Shifters are seriously sexy. They represent our wild side, that primal, animalistic streak inside us all where the rules of polite society give way to instinct and attitude.

Tiger Trap is the first of the Finders Keepers series, telling the stories of men and women who live on the edge of society, working in the grey zone where the rules of men blur and blend with the laws of survival.

The first law of their world: protect their secrets at all costs. The second law is even simpler. What they find, they keep, especially when it comes to their mates.

Tessa Banks is a cat burglar, in more than once sense of the word. A leopard shifter with a talent for taking what doesn’t belong to her, she braves the wintery cold of a Rocky Mountain resort town in a quest for vengeance.

Reformed thief and tiger shifter, Doyle Frost, uses his unique talents to steal from the bad guys instead of for them. Known as one of the best, a simple retrieval for a client should’ve been easy, but in the game of chance, things hardly ever go according to plan.

Plans go off the rails when the two thieves discover that Fate has a twisted sense of timing. Will they be able to keep their hands off each other and stay out of trouble long enough to pull off the heist, or will one of them be left to take the fall while the other takes the prize?


The first whiff of her scent hit him as he left the treeline. Doyle’s stride lengthened, going from an effortless lope to a sprint as he chased that elusive fragrance right up to the door of the estate.
Of all the times to find his mate, it had to be now? Doyle raised his muzzle to the falling snow and snarled in frustration. Somewhere in that house was his mate, and the Monet he’d been sent to retrieve. For the first time in his career, Doyle was going off target. Nothing would stop him from finding his mate. Nothing, and no one.
He wanted to charge in, to seek her out and claim her. His mate’s scent was rich, tantalizing enough to cloud his human mind and allow his tiger to dominate. It was only by sheer will that he reined the beast in, reminding it that there were still security measures in place. He had to speak to the wolves, get them to deactivate the barriers so he could find his mate.
He shifted to human and the bitter chill helped him focus. Made him more human, but even then Doyle could feel the beast pacing just beneath the surface of his mind. In this form his sense of smell was lessened, but he could still taste her perfume lingering on the air. His cock surged to life despite the cold, hard enough he could have battered the door with it. Not that he needed to. Someone had left the goddamned door open. Doyle tore open the pack, the biting cold numbing his fingers and slowing him down as he fumbled for the Bluetooth style earpiece. He got it into his ear at last and flicked it on with a shaking hand.
“I’m here. Deactivate everything, right fucking now!” he snarled, the tiger coming through in every word he uttered. His mate’s scent was everywhere. He needed to find her. Fuck her. Claim her for his own.
“Calm down, dude. We’re on it,” one of them replied, he couldn’t tell which one.
“You don’t understand. My mate. She’s here. Now. I have to find her.” Doyle was hauling clothing out of the pack as he spoke, dressing as quickly as he could in the black jogging pants and T-shirt that he found inside.
“Holy fuck. Did you say your mate is there?”
“Did I stutter, pup? She’s here. Now get me the fuck inside.”
“Uh, yeah. About that. Someone’s already deactivated the sensors from the main panel.”
Fuck. So either his mate was another thief, or she was involved with the owner. After more than a hundred years, the gods had picked a hell of a day to go screwing with not only his sex life, but his career. He stamped his feet into the cheap shoes he’d found at the bottom of the bag and sprinted into the house. His mate’s scent was stronger here, saturating the air and showing him the way.
Doyle took the stairs two at a time, then three, ignoring the twins’ questions as he tore through the ornately decorated house. He hit the landing at the top of the stairs and followed the alluring fragrance of his woman down the long corridor, fighting to keep his tiger in check with every step he took. He wanted to know her name and her taste. What she would sound like when she laughed? When she cried out his name in pleasure? He wanted to know everything about the woman he’d never expected to find. Above all else, though, he wanted to feel her body beneath his as he took her and claimed her for his own.
Barely slowing, he passed the doorway to what his intel indicated would be the main display area for Christophe Heinz’s collection of stolen goods. Normally, Doyle would have paused to reflect on the beauty all around him, but not this time. This time he only had eyes for the captivating creature who was staring at him from the far side of the room.
Fucking hell, she was gorgeous. Petite and curvy, with a tumbling mane of golden blonde hair that framed her face and set off the startling green of her eyes. Eyes that were currently wide with shock.
The word bounced around the inside of his skull as lust seared his veins. He snarled, baring his fangs. She curled her lip in answer, her eyes widening as her nostrils flared and understanding dawned in those beautiful eyes. “No!”
Well, that wasn’t a word Doyle heard very often.
His beautiful mate hurriedly crammed something into a bag and set it down by her feet. A quick scan of the walls showed him exactly what was in the bag, one of a series of paintings of water lilies. His mate was a thief, and she was stealing the same damned thing he was here to retrieve.
As far as he was concerned, there was only one possible explanation for this state of affairs. Fate was a fickle bitch with a wicked sense of humor.
“My name is Doyle Frost, and I believe you have two things that belong to me, love.” His brogue was back, proof that his control was slipping, badly.
“And what might that be?” she asked, her voice somehow managing to be both sensual and full of challenge at the same time.
“Well, for one thing, that’s my client’s painting you have in your bag. I’ll be having it back, if you don’t mind.”
Her eyes darkened and she shook her head in denial. “It’s mine. You can’t have it. Not the painting, and not anything else you might be thinking to claim.”
“Is that so?” he challenged and prowled across the room, doing his best to ignore the steel rod that had replaced his cock and the demanding roar of his tiger who wanted nothing but to take what was his.
She held her ground until he was only two feet in front of her, but then her gaze lowered to his very obvious erection and she took a step back. “No.”
“You keep saying that word as if it’s going to change anything, my beauty. It won’t.” He lunged for her, grabbing her and hauling her roughly into his arms. He couldn’t wait any longer.
“You’re mine.”

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