The Romance Reviews

The Romance Reviews
Showing posts with label Erotic Romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Erotic Romance. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Chatting with Jean Maxwell - Author of Indecent Proposal and Chance to win her book!

I'm so happy to have Jean Maxwell as my guest today. We have published through Evernight for years now, but never been able to snag her for my blog.
In addition to answering all my 'must know' questions she is going to hold a giveaway for her latest release Indecent Proposal. With out further delay let me introduce the incredibly talented Jean Maxwell.
 
Do you do anything to get you into the zone to write?
 
Lately its been tough! When I first started I could hardly wait to get to my laptop every night. Now I seem to put it off! However if I start thinking about the story and my characters earlier in the day, I have some scenarios in my head that make me want to sit down and write them. Wine, instrumental music and candles go a long way, too!
 
 Which authors inspire your writing?
 
Ha! Several. Some by wanting to imitate them and others by how bad they are and knowing I can do better!
 
What is your favorite book, character and why?
 
A Nameless Witch, by A. Lee Martinez. The witch (who, as title suggests, has no name so I can’t say), tells the story in first person, is extremely brave and clever, and is completely accepting of herself and her situation. She doesn’t care what others think of her and she keeps true friends around her.
 
Do you prefer to write erotic or sweet?
 
If I do my job right, I can have both. It’s not really a preference, I think it’s more of a balance.
 
Which famous person, living or dead, are you drawn to?
 
Guitarist and songwriter Stevie Ray Vaughan.
 
Where do you see yourself in five years?
 
At my condo in Cabo, writing hot stuff under the hot sun!
 
Finish this sentence: I know I’ve made it when –
 
My friend Maryse can walk up to me in the Ft. McMurray airport, say “are you Jean Maxwell?” and it won’t be a joke!
 
What advice would you give aspiring writers?
 
Like Nike, ‘just do it.’ And don’t let anyone, including yourself, say you can’t. Also, jump into NaNoWriMo this November.
 
What do you see yourself writing in the future?
 
I’ve always been a sci-fi fan so could see doing something of that nature in the years to come.
 
If you could have one superpower what would it be and why?
 
A toss-up between flying and laser-eye death ray.
 
What time of the day are you at your best to write?
 
When I say to myself “get your @ss to that computer and start writing”
 
And now for something completely different…
 
 
What do you look at first with an attractive man or woman, face, body or smile?
 
Face
 
Explain your perfect day.
 
Waking up to a sunny day and a sexy text from a certain admirer; A great coffee, a walk, swim or bike ride, shopping with no budget limit, dinner out then a movie or concert. 
 
What is the most decadent desert you can’t say no to?
 
Chocolate cheesecake. Just about any kind of cheesecake, really.
 
Do you have a favorite holiday what is it and what makes it special to you?
 
Definitely Christmas. The month-long buildup, the smells, the movies and the music always make me smile. You’d be hard pressed to find me grumpy at Christmas. It somehow makes me feel safe, protected, and suspended in time for many magical weeks!
 
What key words describe you best?
 
Funny. Creative. Perfectionist.
 
Do you want to do a giveaway? If so please put the information here:
 
What is your prize?
A free e-copy of Indecent Proposal
 
How do they enter to win?
AND/OR follow my blog at http://www.thejeanjournal.com
 
When will you be announcing the winner?
Tuesday, Jan. 21
Want to know more about Jean Maxwell and her books?
 
Official website: http://www.idreamofjean.com
TW: @dearjeanmaxwell
 
 
 
 
 
Here is a little taste of Indecent Proposal.
 
Blurb: When a hard-working professional girl gets overloaded with projects she tends to go a little crazy. Add in a hot, hunky company newcomer that she must work late into the night with and the stage is set for a workplace gone wild!!
 
Workaholic PR Manager Carlin Cates is asked to drop everything to help out a new recruit in completing a bid proposal with tight deadlines. She’s not crazy about putting in the extra time until the newcomer, Thatcher Banks, turns out to be the hottest Project Manager in the business!
 
Excerpt:
She flipped a switch, and the overhead lamps in her office burst to life with an audible snap. Removing her coat, she glanced at her desk. Stacked in a neat arrangement were rolls of antacid tablets, a bottle of Pepto Bismol, packets of Alka Seltzer, Advil gelcaps, a collection of herbal teas, and a box of multigrain crackers. All the remedies for an upset stomach known to man in one pile! Next to these sat a potted plant with a card tied to it with a pink ribbon.
Carlin fingered the little tag, an insane hope rising at what name she might see on the signature. She’d barely read the first words, “Hoping at least one of these will cure what ails you…” when a prickling sensation began at the base of her neck. She pivoted, and there, like magic, stood Thatcher Banks.
He leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded and ankles crossed, as though he’d been there forever. An amused grin creased his handsome face.
“Good Morning, Miss Cates. You’re up and at ‘em early. You must have slept well?”
Carlin stared at the man. Her lips seemed to have stopped working. With great effort, she found her voice. “Yes. I did.” His brown eyes transfixed her, glowing like pools of sunlit honey. She could not look away.
“Well then, you won’t have need of any of my…remedies,” he said, nodding toward the desk, but his gaze never wavering from her.
Carlin reminded herself to breathe, to stay focused, even as she felt imprisoned in the warm light of his eyes.
“I…feel fine,” she heard a voice say, knowing it was her own yet hearing it as if from a distance. She forged a coy smile. “Thank you. For thinking of me.”
Thatcher cocked his head to one side. “Ah, well. Such is my luck. A fair young lady to rescue. Only I find she has rescued herself. Pity.” He unfolded his stance and stood straight, placing his hands behind his back. “Might there be some other assistance I can render?”
Carlin gave herself a mental shake. What did he mean by that? She touched her fingertips to the desktop, to stabilize the trembling in her hands. “I thought I was here to help you, not the other way around.”
Thatcher shrugged and took a measured, deliberate step into her office. “You’ve already been that,” he said. “Why not help each other?” A protracted silence followed, and though his body remained in place, Carlin felt him moving closer in a crazy, magnetic way that had no basis in reality. Her own body felt abuzz with electricity. “And it was my pleasure to be thinking of you,” he continued.
Her mouth opened in response, when the card reader at the entrance beeped. She glanced toward the sound. She could hear the swish-click of the front door opening and the familiar stomp-stomp ritual that her boss habitually performed upon entering the building, whether winter or summer. Raymond had arrived.
“But I suppose duty calls,” Thatcher said, his voice lightening. “Let’s get to it.” He smiled, a full and playful smile meant only for her, before turning away and leaving the room. “Hello, Raymond!”
Carlin blinked. His intent seemed unmistakable. Thatcher Banks was about to proposition her.
“Banks! Aren’t you the early bird,” she heard Raymond say.
“Sometimes I’m just the worm, my friend.”
Worm? She pictured herself as a bird, tugging a helpless worm from the ground with her beak. Better yet…she pictured wrapping her lips around Thatcher’s cock and giving it a tug, right here in the office. She felt certain he would have a magnificent one. Would he let her do it? Would she actually do it if he let her?
Hiding a naughty grin, she moved the collection of gifts aside to begin work. She liked to impress people with her speed and effectiveness on the job. Yet the longer she took, the longer she could keep Thatcher Banks on hand. Did that constitute a conflict? Didn’t matter. The proposal had to be filed by four o’clock. Carlin fired up her laptop and launched her mail program. A long parade of messages loaded, bearing attachments and comments.
Carlin filtered through each and saved the pertinent files. The blanks in the RFP filled rapidly with each new piece of information. Completion wasn’t far off, she realized. She may not have Mr. Banks around much longer. She sighed while sending documents to print, and as she stood to retrieve them from the printer tray, an email notification flashed.
Miss Cates, you’ve been working very hard. Would you care to join me in the coffee room for a short break? Thatcher.
She sat down and considered the words on her screen for a moment. Her hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they flew to the keyboard.
Yes I would. Be right there. Send.
Rational thought evaporated, and though Carlin knew she might be stepping into a giant cow pie of inappropriateness, she couldn’t care less. Printouts forgotten, she made a beeline for the coffee room.
Although public, the coffee room’s small size didn’t lend itself as a gathering place for employees, so the chances of it being occupied were slim. As predicted, the space appeared empty as she stepped inside. The door eased shut behind her.
“Do you take yours with cream?”
Carlin closed her eyes and smiled in both relief and wonderment at the familiar and sexy voice that spoke the question. Would something crazy happen here?
Thatcher’s arms slipped around her waist, and his body drew close to hers from behind. “I hope I’m not being too forward,” he whispered in her ear. “But I sense we have some strong feelings toward each other, no?”
“No. I mean yes,” she stammered.
“Yes what?” His hands began to glide upward.
“Yes, I have strong feelings.” She drew in a ragged breath as his palms reached the underside of her breasts and squeezed them.
“I do like this shirt you have on. Very sexy. Did you wear it for my benefit?” He nuzzled her neck beneath one ear. The hands kept moving…cupping both breasts in earnest and squeezing harder.
“I think I wore it…for my benefit,” Carlin said, her voice a breathy whisper. Dear God, her tits hadn’t been touched in months. Her nipples budded hard beneath her bra. Could he feel them from the outside? Her body shivered.
Thatcher chuckled low in her ear. “Has it been that long, dear? We must fix that. Someone as lovely as you shouldn’t go unattended.”
With that, he dropped his hands and swatted her on the behind. “Coffee break’s over. May we continue after four? I’ll let you know where.”
Carlin whirled an about face and glared at him, incredulous. “Excuse me? What sort of game are you playing, Mr. Banks? I’ll tell you when and where I’m going to be at any given moment.”
 
Thank you for being my guest today Jean and for the awesome giveaway.
 
Good luck everyone.
 


Thursday, January 9, 2014

Welcome Author Laurel Cremant - She has two new releases just out.

Welcome to my Blog Laurel, I'm sure everyone would like to know a little about you. I'm so happy you could join me with such delicious offerings. These are very, hot books! Just what I and a lot of my readers love.

Laurel is a romance author, who like most writers loves to read. Her first love (pun intended) has always been romance. From the sappy YA romance novel to the more risqué erotica novels, Laurel is a sucker for a good love story.


Laurel writes paranormal and contemporary romance and is a self-proclaimed, out of the closet nerd. She admits that she can't seem to avoid adding a bit of "nerdology" or "geek-dom" to all of her books. Living in Miami, she also admits that she can't seem to avoid giving her heroines gorgeous shoes, "In Miami, we worship everything strappy, open toed and just plain hot!"

You can find out more about Laurel and her books at the links below.

AUTHOR WEBSITE & LINKS



Now, here is all the good stuff on her first release, Midnight Mistltoe


MIDNIGHT MISTLETOE
(The Golden Pack Alphas, Book I)

GENRE: Paranormal Romance
LENGTH: Short Story
PUBLISHER: Winged Moon Publishing
BLURB:
WARNING: This short novelette/short story of 8,000 words is the first book in this serial and contains snarky dialogue, extremely inappropriate uses of mistletoe, alpha HEROINES and the weres smart enough to chase them. 

All were-hybrid, Georgia Walker wants for Christmas is to spend some time away from her pack and in particular, away from one increasingly dangerous enforcer turned Beta. She has every intention of spending her days basking in the warm Caribbean sun and indulging in an island fling, or two. Anything to forget the way a certain were made her pulse race and skin tingle. 

Marcus Legrand has only one goal this holiday season, bring Georgia home and finally claim her for his own. Convincing the strong willed ice princess will take all of his skill and patience, but Marcus is no stranger to hunting prey. He has every intention of putting both his rank and heart on the line.
EXCERPT:
Taking a deep breath, she reached her arms overhead, arched her back and inhaled the balmy salted air.
She could almost hear her muscles sigh, but despite the relaxation attempting to spread through her limbs, her body tingled with a tension she knew settled too deep.
Her heat cycle was starting, and there was nothing she could do to relieve the discomfort.
Well almost nothing.
Dropping her hands back down to her sides, she swept her gaze across the small beach. It wasn’t crowded but had a fair number of sunbathers and Zen cravers. And most importantly it had men looking for the same thing she was—a little fun, forgetfulness and zero strings.
Although heat pooled to her center, her stomach rolled in apprehension.
In the past she’d had no problems with finding a willing male to sleep with when she was in heat. She enjoyed sex, and although each year her parents hoped she would chose a permanent mate, no man in or outside of her pack inspired much feeling or devotion. At least not enough for her to be shackled to for life.
But last year, because of The-Wolf-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, no one appealed to her.
Instead of rolling around for several hours with a well-endowed chosen playmate, she’d remained locked in her home for days with her vibrator and a healthy supply of batteries.
She had no intentions of repeating the experience. This week, she planned on proving to both her body and wolf, that Marcus wasn’t the only man capable of making her hot.
Her gaze combed the area, looking for a good candidate.
One particular man caught her eye.
He’d been swimming for the last hour, his caramel arms cutting through the water in languid strokes. But now he rose out of the surf resembling a naughty sea nymph, his strong legs leading up to deep blue board shorts. Dry, she guessed the swimming trunks were perfectly modest—but wet they molded to his thick muscled thighs and cupped his cock in a way that left very little to the imagination. And since Georgia’s imagination was better than the average wolf’s she bit back a groan and clenched her thighs tight.
Yum.
Pushing her sunglasses up to her hair, she licked her lips as her gaze traced the diamond bright droplets of water running down his hard chest. They sluiced down his body, aided by the tight ridges of muscles along his abdomen, tunneling down to what looked like one hell of a stocking stuffer.
Merry Christmas to me.
Yes, an island getaway was proving to be the perfect holiday treat.
Her gaze meandered back up his chest and after making a brief note of thick smooth lips and tempting dimples, she made eye contact with her merman come to life.
His eyes gleamed with interest and her lips turned up in her best come-hither smile. He took a step forward and then froze, his gaze focusing on something just over her left shoulder. Shaking his head he turned and continued walking down the beach.
What the hell!
She frowned at his retreating back. Admittedly she was no super model but, she’d never had a problem with luring men her way.
A long shadow fell over her and it was her turn to freeze. Despite blocking out the sun, a heated scorch rippled down her body as the approaching shadow crept down her body. Her nipples pebbled to thick points, her pussy clenched and a slow growl worked its way up her throat.
Only one thing made her body react this way and she’d deliberately left it back in Golden Valley.
“Hello Gigi. Miss me?”
BUY LINKS:

Her second offering is Wynter's Fall 
GENRE: Modern Fairy Tale Romance
LENGTH: Novella
PUBLISHER: Winged Moon Publishing
BLURB:
An unsuspecting mortal, A Keeper of Dreams, And a group of Gods intent on reclaiming powers they no longer deserve... 

Melania Wynter has a big problem, the man of her actual dreams is becoming all too real. Determined to gain back some control over her life, she hopes that a a little vacation will be enough for her psyche to stop comparing her real life to the vivid dreams she's had since childhood. But one patch of ice, a solid pine tree and a nasty bump on the head derail her plans. 

Daiomone, Keeper of Dreams has always been drawn to Melania. He's bided his time, waiting for her to cross-over to his realm, but manipulative God's have interfered in unexpected ways. With a helping hand from fate, he must go to Melania and keep her safe. 

Together they must navigate the wilderness and survive both the cold and trouble-making Gods.
EXCERPT:
Melania, you need to snap out of it.
She tensed as Daimone’s voice filled her head again. Reaching up, she touched the throbbing knot on her head and moaned.
It was official. She’d finally gone off the deep end. “This is so not happening.”
His deep chuckle resonated through her mind. “Ignoring me won’t make me go away.
She huddled tighter against her drawn up legs.
“Trust me. I know,” she mumbled.
He was a major contributing factor in her need for rest and relaxation. Her trip had been a last ditch effort before she threw in the proverbial towel and saw a therapist regarding her little problem.
However, now thanks to a stupid patch of ice, her brain was scrambled and her dream man on the loose. Somewhere on WebMD, there must be a section dedicated to her current condition. It would be a perfectly descriptive affliction that fit her every symptom to a “T”.
Ohshititis—hallucinations and hysteria brought on by extreme situations and chronic bad luck.
You need to get moving, love.
Why not just go with it? Considering her circumstances, she was, after all, due for a little hysteria.
“Well, excuse me if I want to take a moment to recover from a death-defying event here.”
The storm is coming closer, love. You have to get moving.
Lifting her head, she peered up into the thick veil of snow falling all around her. She blinked rapidly as a flurry of snowflakes drifted down on her face with, she was sure, a type of maniacal glee.
The clock is ticking, Princess.
“First of all, you are so not the boss of me. You’re not even real. You’re just a figment of my imagination.”
We really don’t have time to discuss this right now.
“Wait, I’m still unconscious, aren’t I?”
She glanced back at her car, partially expecting to see a specter of herself slumped over the wheel.
His long sigh drifted through her mind. She could almost feel his breath tickle the nape of her neck.
Why do you always have to be so stubborn?” he responded.
She scrunched her brow at his words, refusing to be badgered by a figment of her imagination. Considering the state of things, her choices were either unconsciousness, insanity, or worse yet, admitting that she was well and truly screwed.
She opted for unconsciousness.
It must be the only thing that explained the presence of Daimone’s voice in her head. For as long as she could remember, she’d dreamed of him. He’d appeared in her dreams even as a child. In the beginning, he was a child just as she’d been. But as the years passed, he’d aged along with her.
Sometimes, months would pass between his visits, but even when she dreamed of other people and things, she’d felt him watching her in the corner of her mind. He’d been her secret companion, her solace for years.
Her cheeks heated as she thought of how he’d also become other things to her. It began the night she’d returned from her family’s summer vacation at the beach. She’d only been fifteen at the time and missed frolicking in the sun with friends. That night, she’d dreamed of lying on the beach soaking in the sun.
Daimone had appeared and sat down next to her, nudging her playfully in the ribs. She’d opened her eyes, and for the first time, noticed the breadth of his shoulders, his strong jaw, and twinkling blue eyes.
A flash of heat had raced across her flesh as sunlight had kissed his golden skin. For the first time, she felt the urge to kiss a boy. Her body had yearned to touch and be touched.
Her lips quirked as she thought back on that dream. She’d acted on impulse then. She’d reached up and pulled him down to her, pursing her lips onto his. He’d yanked away looking surprised, but she still remembered the way she’d tingled at the touch of his lips on hers.
She rarely saw him in her dreams for several years after that. He would appear as a passerby or random face in a crowd, but never played a starring role. Not until her parents died several years after she completed college did he become a reoccurring feature in her dreams again.
As much as I love this little jaunt down memory lane, it’s time to make a decision.
His voice had lost its calm tone and held a definite edge of irritation.
I’ll make this easier for you. You’re not unconscious, you’re not crazy. So that leaves only one option.
“Don’t say it,” she said.
You’re fucked, love, and not in a good way.
She groaned.
    Of course she was.
BUY LINKS: