Samhain Publishing

ISBN: 978-1-60504-094-0
Length: 264 Pages
Price: 14.00
Publication Date: January 27, 2009

We’re so excited to have the SNEAK PEEK Anthology releasing.

Shelley Bradley and I had always wanted to do a duet anthology together, and we brainstormed our books, our characters, and her book Watch Me and my book Show Me came together. We even had our characters make guest appearances in each others’ books. We had a blast and I hope it shows in these stories.

A secret club, forbidden indulgences. Come inside and take a peek…if you dare.

WATCH ME by Shelley Bradley: Shanna is set to become a ballroom champion until her partner tangles with scandal. She needs Alejandro, the gorgeous sex club owner, to identify the blackmailer, not tempt her. But maybe forbidden passion and undeniable love is exactly what she needs.

SHOW ME by Jaci Burton: Janine’s socialite lifestyle is above reproach. When Del invites her to indulge her fantasy of voyeurs and exhibitionists, Janine agrees. She transforms into a daring, passionate lover. But when her reputation is jeopardized, Del must prove that loving him is worth the risk.

http://www.jaciburton.com

http://www.shelleybradley.com

Unraveled
by Jaci Burton
Genre: Contemporary Romance, Red Hots!
ISBN: 978-1-60504-248-0
Length: Novella
Price: 3.50

The greatest gift is getting what you never thought you wanted.

Mitch Magruder, rich, successful, wildly popular surfer and entrepreneur, is always on the lookout for the next big wave or the next great deal. So when he’s home for the holidays, he jumps at the chance to build one of his famous hotels right on the white, sandy, Florida beach where he grew up. The only thing standing in his way is Greta Mason.

Divorced with two children, Greta welcomes the struggle to make ends meet at the ramshackle beachfront motel her father left her. The motel means everything to her, and no amount of money—or hot nights of persuasion—offered by gorgeous, sexy Mitch is going to change her mind. No matter how much his touch unravels her defenses.

For once, Mitch finds he’s the one doing the chasing, and Greta’s doing more than throwing a monkey wrench into his perfectly orchestrated world. She’s making him think about things he’s never considered before, things other than the pursuit of money. Things like settling down with the right woman.

Now if only he can convince her he wants more than hot sex, moonlit nights, and her hotel…

So we’re officially into fall weather here, though we still have lots of days in the 70’s. Then again, 70’s is not the 90’s. And that means there’s a change in me.

Beyond not wearing flip flops and tank tops nonstop, I begin…cooking.

Summer is not a big time of year for cooking for me. I do salads and we’ll toss tuff out on the grill, but Fall is the time of year when my internal clock says, “Woman, it’s time to pack on some Winter fat. Get thee to the stove and oven.” (My thighs and butt do not appreciate this.)

It’s like as soon as the weather gets that tinge of cool in the air, my internal feeding clock kicks in and I go on this mad cooking and baking binge. And we’re not talking low cal stuff here, either. Oh no. If it’s high fat, I’m making it. Oh, and I also have this great need to start baking bread.

sigh

I have no idea what causes it, but I can’t say my husband is complaining since he loves when I cook (no doubt because it’s so rare).

What about you? Do seasonal changes kick start the cook in you, or doesn’t it matter? Do you cook through all the seasons, or not at all?

link

Like a lot of people, I’ve been glued to the television over the past couple weeks watching the Olympics. One of my favorite events is gymastics. The dedication these gymnasts have to have to perfect their craft astounds me.

So while I was listening to the commentators talk about the brilliance of the Chinese gymnasts, I was also appalled to hear that most Chinese gymasts are selected as early as 3 years old, taken from their families and brought to Bejing where they live in the gymnastics community and are educated and trained among the other gymnasts. They see their families maybe once or twice a year.

Being a gymnast in China is revered and there’s compensation for families.

Which I guess is great and all that, but no way could I let go of my 3 year old for 13 to 15 years.

But that’s a cultural difference. What appals me is perfectly acceptable in another culture. Here in America—as in most places—we don’t give up our children so that we can have a better life. But in China, this is a huge deal, both for the chosen children and the families.

And judging from how well the Chinese have done in gymnastics, it certainly works.

I’ve learned so much from watching the Olympics. Not just about the different sports, but the behind the scenes vignettes they show on some of the athletes. Where they come from, their backgrounds, their struggles, their differing cultures, the sacrifices it took to get them to Bejing. It’s like a two week lesson in geography and sociology along with rockin’ awesome sports.

This is probably the most I’ve watched of the Olympics, ever.

What about you? Watching a lot, a little, not at all? What’s your take on it? Your favorite?

http://www.jaciburton.com

I’m so thrilled this story has released in print. It’s a fun marriage of convenience story set in Las Vegas about a millionaire and his assistant and a rather large favor he asks of her. I had so much fun writing this book, and I’m so thrilled Samhain gave me a chance to bring Faith and Ryan’s romance to the readers.

I hope you enjoy it!

It was nothing personal, just a business arrangement.

But love rarely listens to logic, and what follows is anything but business.

For contests, excerpts and more, visit me at my website

Today is Leap Year day, so we get an extra day this year! How exciting is that? I’ve decided I’m not counting today as one of those run of the mill standard days, but rather a bonus day, a day that doesn’t really count. That means I shouldn’t have to work today, right? I can use it to do anything I want to do.

That opens up all kinds of possibilities. What would I do with a free day, a day without responsibilities, a day that, in essence, doesn’t exist?

I could use an extra day in my writing calendar. That would give me time to add word count to my crazy schedule. But no, that would be working, wouldn’t it?

I could catch up on the ever growing pile of Mount Laundry that I never seem to be able to defeat. But no, that would also be considered work, and we wouldn’t want to do that.

Because I spend so much of my time writing, I could tackle the gigantic mess that is my house. Declutter the clutter, put things where they belong, really dig in and organize.

Oh wait…again, that’s work and it shouldn’t count on my free day.

I could go outside and start working on the flower beds and my garden, sorely neglected. We had a vicious ice storm in December and it’s a wreck out there. Oh…it’s still winter. Brrr, cold out there. It’s still winter, after all. Can’t do that today.

So what could I do that isn’t work?

I could snuggle up on the sofa with my dogs, throw a blanket over us all and grab some of the many books on my To Be Read pile and settle in for a day of reading. Now that sounds like fun, doesn’t it? I could definitely spend an entire day lost in books.

I could go shopping. I love shopping. Makeup, clothes, purses, shoes. The spring lines are all out now and it makes me crave warmth…and new, pretty things. Yes, I could definitely go shopping.

Nap. I’m very fond of naps. They’re refreshing and really help clear my head, energize me and make me feel like I’m doing something incredibly decadent. There’s nothing better than snuggling on the sofa with my blanket and my dogs and indulging in a warm afternoon nap.

T.V. – I could zone out and watch television all day long. I never get to do that.

Book plotting – Yeah, yeah, that does seem like work, but honestly, there aren’t enough days/hours/weeks/months that I have time to indulge the ideas that pop into my head. I’m always working on something that’s contracted, and no time to play with new story ideas. I’d consider a day to brainstorm some new stories a fun indulgence.

Yes, there’s a lot I could do on my free day today. What would you do if you had an entire day to yourself to do whatever you wanted to do?

I’m not sure how some authors feel about being edited, but personally, I love it. Maybe I’m the odd one, but I always look forward to my editor getting hold of my book and putting her red marks all over it.

Why? Because I’m the first to admit I’m not perfect. I make mistakes. I can’t see the forest for the trees. When I’m deeply embedded in a story, I lose sight of the big picture. And because I’m so absorbed, there are things I might miss. Like the fact that I made the heroine’s eyes green in chapter one and blue in chapter ten. Or that she was thirty early in the book and twenty-eight later on. That she was an only child, then she had a sister. Or other dumb things like that. Things a great editor will point out (and in the case of my editor, will usually point out with a snarky but funny comment that usually includes ‘you dumbass’ somewhere in it. Yes, I do love her for that).

But a good editor does more than spot inconsistencies and typos and the occasional grammatical error. They also strengthen your story, shore up its weak points and help you make it better, so the reader is given the best story possible. Writing a book is a group effort, not a singular process. One person can’t do it alone. We work as a team. The writer does the basic structure, then the editorial and production team put the glossy finish on it.

I like to think I write a good story. I turn in clean books that are well edited. But my editor can find problem areas in that story that I can’t see. Then she makes these amazing, brilliant suggestions to make my story better. And that’s what every author wants—the best book possible.

So the next time you read a really good story, remember it wasn’t just the author who made that book great. It was also the editors who helped that story along.

(And thank you, Angie, for always making my books shine.)

I’m pleased to announce the release of my Christmas novella, UNWRAPPED. Happy Holidays and I hope this book helps warm your season.

When Justin Garrett accidentally views Amy Parker’s private online journal, he sees the cold corporate exec in a brand new light. It seems the icy, unapproachable Amy has fantasies. Fantasies that both appall and intrigue her.

No one knows the real Amy Parker, and she’s satisfied to keep it that way. A woman with kinky tastes wouldn’t cut it in the straight-laced law firm where she’s fought her way to partnership. And she certainly refuses to let a man younger than her use her to advance in the firm. Justin Garrett might be brilliant, gorgeous and sexy as hell, but he’s firmly implanted in her fantasies and that’s where he’ll stay.

While working together on a corporate acquisition in Hawaii over the Christmas holidays, Justin sets out to make Amy’s dreams come true. But first he has to warm her frosty heart and show her that he’s interested in her as a woman, not as a way to advance his career. By giving her exactly what she’s always wished for—a night of passion with two men who adore her—he hopes to climb right into her heart. And he knows the ideal other man to help unwrap the perfect Christmas gift for Amy.

Excerpt that follows after the jump is adult oriented.

The sand was hot. She hurried to the water’s edge, relieved when the waves lapped at her feet and ankles. It was cold. She needed the cool water to knock some sense into her. As soon as she was in waist high, she dove in, letting the waves crash over her.

It was heaven. She swam out a few yards, loving the feel of the waves undulating under her. It was incredibly freeing, and oh so relaxing. She finally stopped, treading water and feeling for footing, landing on a sandbar. She stood in the water up to her breasts. Mitch swam up next to her and grinned as he stood up, shaking his head.

“Now that was refreshing,” he said with a wide grin.

“Yes it was. I needed that.”

She screamed when arms encircled her waist and swept her off her feet. Flailing about, she turned, realizing she was being held in Justin’s arms.

“You scared the hell out of me,” she said, splashing water in his face.

He shook his head and laughed. “Thought I was a shark, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.” All too aware of how good it felt to be nestled against his chest, she said, “You can put me down now.”

One raven brow arched. “Oh, I don’t think so.” Instead, he bent a bit, then lifted her, clear out of the water, and she went sailing in the air, screaming at the top of her lungs. Instead of landing somewhere in the water, she was caught by another set of strong arms. This time, it was Mitch.

She glared at both of them. “You guys are not funny.”

“We think we are,” Mitch said, cradling her close, turning her toward him so her breasts were mashed against his chest. “You’re safe with us, Amy. Don’t worry.”

She wasn’t worried at all. Justin swam up and linked hands with Mitch underneath her, dropping her into the middle between them. She lay in their arms in the water, cradled against their chests while the two of them carried on a conversation about sports, seemingly ignoring her. It was a man hammock. She was comfortable, safe, and absolutely petrified. She was a sandwich in the middle of two amazingly desirable men.

Finally, she relaxed, letting her head rest against Justin’s chest as they rocked her back and forth, the sound of their voices a constant comfort. She closed her eyes and let the sun bake her, the waves lapping over her skin.

She imagined the two of them taking her right there in the water, stripping off her top and each of them sucking a nipple into their greedy mouths, licking and biting until she writhed on top of the waves and begged them to fuck her. Her pussy clenched and she whimpered with need. Too long. She’d waited too long for an orgasm. Too long for a man. She craved strong, callused hands between her legs, searching her swollen slit and pumping fingers into her core, caressing her clit until she cried out in climax and demanded a hot cock to replace those fingers.

Maybe Santa would bring her that for Christmas. A nice fantasy come true in her stocking.

She smiled. Then felt the press of lips against hers.
Her eyes drifted open and Justin’s face loomed in front of hers.

A million words hovered on her lips, all of them denial, every single one of them obliterated when his mouth came down on hers again, this time harder, hungrier. She gasped against him and his tongue slipped between her teeth, finding hers. It was an electric shock, a velvet fire as he licked her, his lips doing dangerous things to her senses. He dragged her upright. She bobbed in the water, her legs adrift, her arms clasping around his neck as he drove into her mouth with more intent.

She’d always known there was a primal side to Justin, this barely unleashed animal he kept tucked away in business suits. Now he was letting it out, letting her see it, and she couldn’t get close enough to this side of him. She wanted more.

But another set of arms came around her, dragging her away from Justin. Justin smiled at her, nodded, and as she was turned she found Mitch in front of her, his hands slipping around her waist to draw her against him. Her heart slammed against her ribs, her mind nothing but liquid. She couldn’t think this through.

“Don’t,” Mitch said. “Don’t think about it. Just let it happen.”

Nothing Personal by Jaci Burton

I hope you enjoy this contemporary romance!

Jaci

Excerpt and Purchase Info Here

It was nothing personal, just a business arrangement.

Ryan McKay is a multi-millionaire with a problem. He needs a bride to fulfill the terms of his grandfather’s will. Unfortunately, the one he chose just bailed on him and he’s hours away from losing his company. Enter Faith Lewis —his demure, devoted assistant. Ryan convinces Faith to step in and marry him, assuring her their marriage is merely a business deal. Ryan is certain he can keep this strictly impersonal. After all, he’s the product of a loveless marriage and for years has sealed his own heart in an icy stone. Despite Faith’s warmth, compassion and allure, he’s convinced he’s immune to her charms.

Faith will do anything for her boss, but — marry him? The shy virgin sees herself as plain and unattractive, a product of a bitter mother who drummed into her head that she wasn’t worthy of a man’s love. But she agrees to help Ryan fulfill the terms of his grandfather’s will, hoping she doesn’t lose her heart to him in the process.

But love rarely listens to logic, and what follows is anything but business.

I write paranormal romance and contemporary romance, which means that typically my life is deeply embedded in those two genres. I live it, breathe it, and often dream it. I spend a lot of time plotting, writing and editing my books, deeply immersed in the worlds I create.

I also do a lot of reading in my chosen genre. I like to stay abreast of what my peers are doing in the genres I write in, so I also read a lot of paranormal romance and contemporary romance. And frankly, I love these two genres. I wouldn’t be writing them if I didn’t.

But on occasion, I need a break. I need to cleanse my brain of anything and everything having to do with what I write. And what I really like to read during these times is romantic comedy. I think the reason I choose romantic comedy is because there’s no way on earth I could ever write it. I don’t have a comedic bone in my body. I like to think my books are fun, they have their amusing moments, but full on comedic? No way. And I admire the hell out of authors who pull off romantic comedy. I can sink into a romantic comedy so easily, because there’s no comparison to anything I write, there’s no ‘oh, why didn’t I have this idea’, no lightbulb goes on with the germ of a plotline, because it isn’t my genre. I can simply enjoy the read. Ahhhhhhh.

Some genres can just capture us and take us away like the proverbial Calgon bathtime, make us forget where we are and who we are and transport us to another world. We can become that character and live her life and dreams for those moments in time that we’re fully immersed in the book. When a story does that for me, I’m in heaven.

What kind of book does that for you?