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new Erotic Contemporary by Guest Author Tina Donahue

2/24/2014

3 Comments

 
Comment to enter drawing - See end of post for contest details

Please help me welcome my special guest, Author Tina Donahue
My Appointment with Pleasure series are loosely connected stories about women who know what they want, and the men who’ll risk everything to have them. At the agency, pleasure is the first order of business for the elite clients and their high-priced escorts. There are no restrictions on carnal appetites. Evenings are filled with wicked fantasies and sensual delights where nothing, especially shameless desire, is off limits.

Claiming Magique, book one, opened the series. Magique is no ordinary call girl, which Hunt soon discovers. After one evening with her, he’s hooked, and he moves heaven and earth to make her his own.

Losing Control, book two, introduces us to Catherine. At a District party she meets Tim, Hunt’s friend from Claiming Magique. Taken with him, as he is with her, Catherine doesn’t reveal she’s a call girl. She wants Tim to desire her for the woman she really is. Of course, she’s playing with fire by not telling him the truth, but that’s what makes this romance so moving…and hot.

Illicit Intent, book three, features Guy and Joel, two male escorts for the agency. When Piper’s friend books them for Piper’s birthday…wow. Piper’s never the same. She wants more, more, and still more. Of course, there is one little problem. She works for the FBI and her dad’s a top cop in the District.

Throughout these stories, the one constant is Ronnie, the agency’s owner. Her blossoming love with Wallace, her chauffeur, has led many fans to ask me to write their story. J

Maybe next time. For now, it’s Tessa and Logan’s turn in Seven Sensuous Days.

SEVEN SENSUOUS DAYS
BOOK FOUR – OUTLAWED REALM SERIES

EROTIC CONTEMPORARY

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Blurb
At an erotic auction, she’s his to bid on…to take…to command.

The night’s sultry, filled with carnal promise as Tessa participates in an agency event to raise money for charity. She’s chained and bared—as women were once displayed for a sultan’s harem—her sweet looks and full figure offered to the wealthy and powerful men.

Among them is Logan. To him, Tessa is so different from his late wife, the seemingly perfect female who cruelly stole his hope and future. Wanting only to forget and have a good time, he wins Tessa, demanding she be his in every way possible, engaging in all wanton acts, though not only for an evening…for seven sensuous days at his secluded Virginia estate.

A provocative proposal with such a dangerously virile man.

A week that changes everything, with Tessa’s exquisite vulnerability and Logan’s suddenly unquenchable desire more than either bargained for.

Excerpt
      Music swelled, drums drowning out what had sounded like flutes and a female voice trilling something. Blood pounded in Tessa’s ears, muting it all. With her face lowered, all she could see was the purplish sheen of her cape. She sensed the panels in front of her parting, the stage displayed. Beyond it were a series of steps descending to a stone walkway flanked with splashing fountains, which eventually led to the crowd…the one man who was supposed to win her for an evening.

      A full day was reserved for goddesses like Felicity. With her participation in this event, Ronnie would probably have enough funds to build a community college for young women.

      The microphone screeched with brief feedback. Tessa made a face. Ronnie said something Tessa didn’t quite catch.

      She bit her bottom lip, and decided to hell with it. She was going to take Felicity’s advice and fantasize.

      “He’s dark and dangerous,” Felicity had said.

      His features would be masculine, strong, slightly rough, his face shadowed with his coming beard. No, wait. He’d have a mustache and a closely cropped goatee, that hair as dark as his eyebrows. His eyes would be black, piercing, his skin a deep bronze, his lips satiny, his mouth full and rich.

      He’d move into her with a right given him by birth, as a ruler. As a male. Looking down at her, he’d smile, shameless lust transforming his features, making him seem even more dangerous. Sex would be on his terms. He’d take her in any manner he chose. Orally, vaginally, anally, his strength precluding escape, his stiffened cock demanding its due, all that she could--

      Tessa’s cunt stopped aching with need as her hood fell away. Or rather, Brian had pulled it back. Instinctively, she lifted her head, her attention darting everywhere, much as she suspected a real captive would have behaved, not knowing what to expect. A part of her mind recorded water spraying from the fountains, the again-subdued music, rich and seductive. Ronnie’s voice. The muted conversations of the ladies with their so-called masters.

      Those men who hadn’t yet made their selections were quiet. Tessa regarded each. Some were listening to Ronnie. Others glanced at Tessa’s cloak, no doubt wanting it off.

      With a flourish, Brian complied and pulled the thing from her, then lifted her arms above her head, securing her shackled wrists to the column.

      Tessa stiffened at being exposed in every way possible. There was no hiding her nudity or expression up here, not with the lights trained on her. They weren’t fully intrusive, just enough illumination to exhibit, making her the brightest spot among all the shadows and the torches’ flickering flames. The toasty breeze skimmed the faint moisture on her cunt and licked her nipples, puckering them even more so that the tips appeared that much longer. Areas Felicity’s makeup had accentuated.

      Perspiration prickled Tessa’s neck. Her heart beat out of time, the pose she struck both daunting and oddly arousing. There was absolutely nothing to compare to this…being chained and displayed. A sensation of delicious helplessness. Intense vulnerability.

      Especially as no one spoke up.

      Oh no.

      Embarrassment drove heat to Tessa’s throat and cheeks. The music played on and on. Each second crawled by while her mind raced. Would her part in the auction stop when the piece ended even though no one had offered a price? Would Ronnie call for an intermission then, or would she want to continue with the rest of the event as quickly as--

      Someone called out a bid.

      Tessa’s heart paused. She hadn’t hear the amount. It didn’t matter. One man, at least, craved her.

      Who? She studied the audience. A guy, forty or so, smiled with kindness, rather than lust, no doubt sensing and seeing her uncertainty. She offered her own smile in return, liking his sympathetic manner, wondering if he was the one who’d bid on her.

      No. He’d already turned to the server and was now pointing at his drink as though he wanted a new one more than anything else.

      So who had made the offer?

      Another client kept looking from her to Ronnie. Others took a moment to study the program, see who was coming up next.

      That would be Felicity. For her, the men would shout over each other, demanding to be heard, letting the money flow freely.

      Another bid rang out.

      Completely surprised, Tessa continued to regard the crowd, her attention drawn finally, almost irresistibly, to Logan Kincaid.

      She forgot to breathe.

      Someone had relit the torch nearest his table. Its bobbing light bathed him in a warm golden glow.

      Tessa’s body softened.

      Young—thirties or so, just as she’d thought—he wore his dark brown hair longish on the top and sides, combed away from his face. His features were rugged, deliciously masculine, especially his shadow of beard. Tessa had no doubt those short bristles would be rough to the touch, a wonderful contradiction to the silkiness of his lips, his generous mouth. A man’s mouth.

      Warmth sluiced through her again, the heat soothing this time. Arousing.

      He wore a beige blazer that went well with his tan complexion, his white shirt opened at the collar. Decidedly relaxed. The same as his demeanor. He lowered his drink…whiskey or bourbon…from here it was impossible for her to tell. He glanced at his watch, then surveyed the crowd, not her.

      Ronnie took another bid.

      With a neutral expression, Logan regarded the man who’d made it.

      Tessa didn’t bother to look. She focused on Logan.

      Another bid followed the last. As if to determine why, Logan finally glanced at the stage.

      Tessa’s pulse pounded. Her legs felt watery.

      His attention swept upward from the ridiculous shoes she wore to her naked calves and thighs. He studied her exposed cunt and glittering body jewelry for a moment, then continued to her bared breasts, viewing them briefly before he at last reached her eyes.

      There, he stopped, as though he hadn’t meant to. There, he lingered.

Available at: Ellora’s Cave  
Release: March 5

Other books in the Appointment with Pleasure series:
Claiming Magique – Book One
Losing Control – Book Two
Illicit Intent – Book Three

About Tina
Tina Donahue is an award-winning, bestselling novelist in erotic, paranormal, contemporary and historical romance for Samhain Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, and Kensington. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. Three of her erotic romances (Adored, Lush Velvet Nights, and Deep, Dark, Delicious) were named finalists in the 2011 EPIC competition. The French review site, Blue Moon reviews, chose her erotic romance Sensual Stranger as their Book of the Year 2010 (erotic category). The Golden Nib Award at Miz Love Loves Books was created specifically for Lush Velvet Nights, and two of her titles (The Yearning and Deep, Dark, Delicious) received an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition (2011 and 2012). Take Me Away and Adored both won second place in the NEC RWA contest (different years). Tina is featured in the 2012 Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. She was the editor of an award–winning Midwestern newspaper and worked in Story Direction for a Hollywood production company.

Email: tina@tinadonahue.com
Website: http://www.tinadonahue.com/
Blog: http://www.tinadonahue.com/blog/
Twitter: http://twitter.com/tinadonahue
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/tina.donahue.75
FB Fanpage: https://www.facebook.com/TinaDonahueBooks
Triberr: http://triberr.com/tinadonahue
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/authortina/my-books/
Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/author/tinadonahue
My page at TRR: http://erotic.theromancereviews.com/mypageprofile.php?location=tinadonahue

CONTEST DETAILS
Tina will choose one commenter as her winner. Winner gets her choice of one of Tina’s award-w
inning, bestselling ebooks from this list:

1. Adored – RWA award-winning; EPIC 2011 Finalist; 4 Stars RT
2. Deep, Dark, Delicious – EPIC 2011 Finalist; Holt Medallion Award of Merit
3. Lush Velvet Nights – EPIC 2011 Finalist; Golden Nib Award
4. In His Arms – SIX 5 Star Reviews; 4 Stars RT
5. Sensual Stranger – 2010 Book of the Year (erotic); 4 Stars RT
6. The Yearning – Top Ten Bestseller
7. Take Me Away – #1 Pick, Miz Love Loves Books
8. Unending Desire – Best Book Rating LASR
9. SiNN – Nominated for Book of the Week LASR
10. Sinfully Wicked – Magnificent – Romancing the Book
11.  Claiming Magique – Top Pick – NOR
12. Illicit Desire – Four Stars Romantic Times
13. Come Fill Me – Five Stars – Guilty Pleasures

 

3 Comments

Heart Shapes and Theories

2/13/2014

0 Comments

 
This blog by Rwas originally posted on the RB4Upost When

When
wandering through the greeting card section looking for the perfect heart and verse to give your loved one, have you ever wondered about the origin of the traditional heart shape associated with love and Valentine's day?

You already know that the origins of Valentine's day itself goes back to the ancient Romans and their festival of Lupercalia , a sensuous affair where young women put their names in a big pot and young men simply drew out a name. According to Glenn Church's 2008 article, "The man did not need to ask for a date, plan a dinner setting or a movie. Just draw a name and off to fornicate."

That rite survived until the fifth century AD when Pope Gelasius I tried to get rid of the pagan festival by superimposing a religious day honoring Saint Valentine who was martyred on February 14, 269 AD.

THE SHAPE OF VALENTINES TO COME

While honoring a beheaded saint was somewhat of a buzz-kill, it didn't do away with the celebration, just toned it down. And it has nothing to do with the heart shape we use for valentines.

So off I went in search of the real story (which, of course, doesn't exist). However, there are a number of intriguing theories.

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● Aristotle wrote that the human heart was the center of all human emotions, and it is certainly one of the major body parts that sends visceral signals regarding our feelings and moods. And if you've ever been in love, or heartbroken, you know you definitely feel it in your heart. That could support the connection between the heart and passion.

Unfortunately, the human heart doesn't really resemble the Valentine's day heart. In those days, at least some people knew what a human heart looked like and probably didn't associate it with love.


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● Another suggestion is that the heart was the ancient symbol for Dionysus, Greek god of wine and debauchery. His sign was the leopard spot similar to a heart symbol, and people wore leopard skins in homage to the god.

I don't know. A leopard spot? I saw most resemblance to a heart shape in this plaque, but grapes were far more predominant.


● Both cupid's bow and the head of his arrows are thought by some as the origin of the valentine heart. Cupid was the Roman god of physical love making and classically shown shooting arrows at people to make them fall desperately in love...and he never misses. His name in Latin means desire.

Both a curved bow and some arrowheads do resemble a heart shape in the rough.

● Others claim the origins of the heart shape, as related to love, comes from the similarity to human body parts such as the shape of the back, the buttocks, breasts, and other parts which I won't mention in mixed company. Some of the similarities depend of which way your turn the heart. Of course, the use of an arrowhead to pierce a heart has "strong male overtones".

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● Wikipedia states that the first association of the heart shape with romantic love occurs in 1250 in a miniature in a manuscript of the French Roman de la poire (National Library, France). Personally, I had a hard time seeing the heart shape in the S form.

However, I found more references than any other for the next theory, which takes us back to the seventh century BC.

● During the seventh century BC, the city-sate of Cyrene was known to trade in the rare, and now extinct, plant silphium. At that time it was a well known herb widely use in the Mediterranean area for spicing food. It grew only along the Libyan coast where the climate is now considerably drier.

So what's the connection between siphium and the heart shapes used to depict romantic love?
Well, it was also used as an abortive agent for women. The day after sex, the woman would eat the silphium plant or its seeds. And its seeds were shaped like hearts. The plant was commemorated on Cyrene coins, such as the ones shown below. It's quite plausible that the shape of the seed pod became related to sex and love.


Indirect evidence in later literature strongly indicates it had highly abortive properties. By Nero's time, Pliny the Younger writes that it was extremely difficult to find because the Emperor had procured the total available supply.

AND THAT'S HOW THE VALENTINE GOT IS SHAPE.

Resources
http://voices.yahoo.com/origins-valentines-day-heart-symbol-849689.html
http://www.kingdombaptist.org/the-origin-of-valentines-day-and-the-heart-symbol/
http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/recycled/2007/02/the_shape_of_my_heart.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valentine%27s_Day

0 Comments

Guest Post by M. S. Spencer

2/2/2014

5 Comments

 
Please welcome my guest for today, M. S. Spencer, an author after my own heart who writes romantic suspense and mysteries.


Good morning, Ann and thanks for having me. We have a lot in common—a love of mysteries and a love of travel. With your Italian connection, you will surely enjoy my new book.

I'd like to talk about the genesis of my new romantic suspense/mystery, The Mason's Mark: Love and Death in the Tower. The book arose in part out of a true story. I had started with the idea that my heroine finds a dead body on top of the George Washington National Masonic Memorial, a towering landmark of Alexandria, Virginia. The GWM is not only a Masonic Lodge (Alexandria-Washington no. 22) but a memorial to George Washington and a national showcase for freemasonry. To ensure authenticity, I learned as much about freemasonry as I could.  I began with basic sites on Masons, but my Google search soon led me into a strange world of global intrigue and crime. I followed one thread to a fake Masonic lodge called Propaganda Due, led by a notorious Italian named Licio Gelli.

Starting in the 1940s, Gelli embarked on a lifetime of bizarre scams and crimes. Alternately linked to rightists and leftists, he bilked or used people from Italian politicians, to the Nazis, the Communists, the CIA, even to Juan Perón, dictator of Argentina. His exploits cross the globe and spanned four decades. But it was his connection to a shadowy group called Operation Gladio—supposedly a team of black ops left in Europe after WWII to guard against Communist takeovers—that was too intriguing not to use. Thus was born The Mason's Mark: Love and Death in the Tower, a contemporary tale about old scandals. And a dynamite love story.

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Here's a summary:

In both the best and worst first day at work ever,  docent Claire Wilding meets the man of her dreams, but her carefully rehearsed guided tour of the George Washington National Masonic Memorial falls apart when she discovers a dead body. Together with Detective Ernest Angle, she's drawn into a dark world of black ops and Italian renegade masons. Also cloaked in mystery is her new love Gideon Bliss.  A George Washington expert, he haunts the Memorial, his manner evasive. What is his secret? Claire fears she'll fall in love with him only to learn he's a thief or even a murderer.

Juggling two eccentric mothers, an inquisitive sister, and an increasingly smitten Ernest, Claire must find answers to a complex web of intrigue, including which black ops agent to trust,  whether our first president strayed, and if she and Gideon will ever be together.



The Mason's Mark: Love and Death in the Tower (an Old Town Romance)
 Secret Cravings Publishing (released January 7, 2014)
 79,000 words, Romantic suspense, M/F, 3 flames

Buy Links: http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&cPath=4&products_id=800
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Masons-Mark-Love-Death-Tower-ebook/dp/B00HUCFYH0/
B&N:  http://bit.ly/1aPqGK5
ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-themason039smarkloveanddeathinthetower-1395424-149.html

In honor of the Super Bowl I thought I'd offer a football scene:

Excerpt (R): Vikings Win

    “More ribs?”

    “Yes, thanks. You’d better get back in here—the game’s about to start.”

    Gideon sat down next to Claire and handed her a plate and a roll of paper towels. “Mother doesn’t think she can make it to my court appearance next Tuesday.”

    “Is she upset with you?” Claire tore the last whisker of meat off the bone and chewed lustily. Gideon leaned toward her and gently wiped the sauce from her mouth. They took a minute to gaze happily into each other’s eyes.
   
    “Well, a bit. After all, no Bliss has ever been accused of theft. Dueling, yes. Womanizing. Gambling. But not theft. I’m afraid she thinks I’m guilty.”

    “How? I mean, why?”

    “Maybe because I won’t confide in her. At this point only three other people know of the Washington letter—Allen Greystone, the conservator, you, and Frederick Nutley.”

    “I thought you hadn’t told Professor Nutley?”

    Gideon took a swallow of beer. “Fred came to see me after my arrest. I had to tell him.”

    “So why hasn’t he shown up to support you?”

    “I don’t know. I imagine he thinks he would only make it worse, considering his reputation.”

    The first quarter started and the two were drawn into the inglorious battle between her favorite team and his. Claire leapt to her feet, scattering potato chips on the floor. “Did you see that catch? Jackson is amazing, isn’t he?” she crowed. “The Redskins might as well give up now and head for the locker room.”

    Gideon sniffed. “We’ve got three more quarters to go. The Vikings are notorious for blowing it in the fourth.”

    “Never. Vikings never give up. Why, when Fran Tarkenton—”

    “Spare me, m’dear. That was thirty years ago. The Purple People Eaters have been on a slow slide to oblivion since then.”

    He caught her arm in midair, turned her palm toward him, curled her fingers over it and kissed them. “Kiss a fist for peace.”

    “I’ll show you a fist. I’ll—”

    Her pummeling had no effect, at least on Gideon’s chest. When he pinioned her arms and held her close she could feel the erection grinding into her thigh. He let her arms go and circled her waist, pulling her to him. He groaned, “Claire.”

    The noise of gridiron battle faded and she heard nothing but the steady thrumming of her vulva and the rhythmic thumping of his cock against her. “Gideon. Gideon? Remember what I said. Remember I…We shouldn’t…”

    “You’re right, not here.” He lifted her, tossed her over his shoulder, and took the narrow steps to her bedroom two at a time.

    After a short mental struggle, Claire accepted the inevitable. How to turn defeat into victory? “You just don’t want to watch your Redskins lose, do you?” When he didn’t answer, she took the opportunity to undo his belt and pull the zipper down. He fell backward on the bed, allowing her to free his cock and fasten her lips around it. She shifted around to face away from him and shimmied backward, bringing her pussy within reach of his lips. He took a mouthful of quivering red flesh and sucked. She gasped with pleasure, then bent to her task. A few moments later both backs arched and, mouths glued to genitals, they rolled off the bed. Ichabod screeched and bolted out from under them.

    Claire waited for her breath to come back. “Vikings will win. Mark my words.”

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BIO
Although she has lived or traveled in every continent except Antarctica and Australia (bucket list), M. S. Spencer has spent the last thirty years mostly in Washington, D.C. as a librarian, Congressional staff assistant, speechwriter, editor, birdwatcher, kayaker, policy wonk, non-profit director and parent. Blessed with two fabulous grown children, she has published eight romantic suspense/mystery novels. In an excess of optimism, she has recently heaved the entire ho to Florida with a detour to Maine, leaving behind the cherry blossoms, the monuments, and the political hacks.

CONTACTS: 
Blog: http://msspencertalespinner.blogspot.com
Twitter: www.twitter.com/msspencerauthor
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/msspencerauthor/

Facebook: www.facebook.com/M.S.SpencerAuthor

AUTHOR PAGES:
Secret Cravings Publishing: http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=products_all&filter_author=56
Amazon Author Page:http://www.amazon.com/M.S.-Spencer/e/B002ZOEUC8/
GoodReads: http://www.goodreads.com/msspencer

 

 


5 Comments

    Author R. Ann Siracusa

    Novelist, retired architect and urban planner, world traveler, quilter, owl collector, devoted wife-mother-grandmother, great-grandmother, and, according to some, wild-assed liberal.

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