Newsletter, May, 2010

New Releases

I had two releases this month, neither of which I could promote because I was in a hotel with expensive, awful Internet. I did sign up to one day's service so I could do a little promotion, but it wouldn't let me upload my website, or any promotion. But I am so pleased with these releases.

The first is a new Department 57 book from Loose-Id. Crystal Tides is the story of Kai, the merman who featured in Liquid Crystal. I've had numerous requests for Kai's story, so here it is, and I've included an excerpt below. I loved Kai, and it was very rewarding to give him his happy ending. You can buy Crystal Tides here.

The second is a free release from Ellora's Cave. Seychelles Sunset features Edie and John from Beauty of Sunset, and takes place a year after their Cougar story concluded. You can pick it up here. And it's free, although it's been properly edited and is an official Ellora's Cave release!

News

I am just back from the Romantic Times Booklovers' Convention, and this year it was a great conference. No controversies, lots of fun and great signings and book fairs.
I went to Columbus via Chicago, where I went for the Chicago International fair, a huge collection of lovers of miniatures and dolls' houses. For those of you interested, I bought a kit that will see a venture into half scale. I've been a diehard inch scale (1 foot to 1 inch) user, but a few half or quarter scale projects might prove interesting! The quality of skill on display is absolutely amazing.
I decided to fly over a day early, as I got a cheaper flight, and it meant I could sleep off most of my jet lag. Sneaky, jet lag, it gets you when you think you're over it, and you end up asleep in your dinner if you're not careful! So I booked into an airport hotel, the Aloft at O'Hare, which turned out great, and slept. The day after, I went to the convention hotel to meet my roomie, Thelma, and people kept telling me I was lucky to be there. Well, yes, I knew that, and I was thrilled, but it was only when someone mentioned the volcano, and I said, "What volcano?" that the full extent of the disaster was brought home to me. The disruption was immense, and I couldn't believe my luck, as well as feeling sorry for the people caught up in the mess.
Then I moved to downtown Chicago for a week's stay. I stayed at the Allerton, which has mixed reviews at Trip Advisor, but honestly, it was my favorite hotel of the stay. I absolutely loved it. The decor wasn't "just another hotel," and while the room was smaller than most of the other hotel rooms I stayed at, it was plenty big enough, and actually made me feel a bit cosier. Those big, open spaces tend to fret me a bit. Since I was a lone traveller at this stage, I didn't go out at night, but there were lots of great restaurants and cafes nearby where I could buy to take out. My room had a view right down Michigan Ave, and I really enjoyed Chicago. Vibrant and exciting, with some great shops, and the Art Institute is awesome. The Thorne Rooms, a collection of miniature rooms assembled in the first half of the 20th century, were amazing. And I got to do a booksigning at Borders, Michigan Ave.
Then Columbus. Another good flight. My friend Linnea Sinclair met me off the plane, with Stacey Kade. Great to see them again. I taught at the precon. There was a mix up with the workshops, so I ended up on the synopsis panel, but it was a really good experience, and I got to critique the first 5 pages of 5 new authors, all of which showed promise.
For me, the convention proper started on Tuesday night, with the private Ellora's Cave party. That's always fun, with people to reconnect with and new people to meet. I couldn't possibly do the whole conference for you, I'd bore you rigid, but here are the highlights of my Romantic Times:

1. The Ellora's Cave Paint It Red party. That was fun, the dancing was appropriate to an erotic romance imprint, but not embarrassing, and the music was good.
2. Sharing with Judith Rochelle/Desiree Holt. One of the most fun people around, and a hugely successful writer. I had lots of fun with Judith. She's retiring Judith Rochelle this year, and going with Desiree Holt for future releases.
3. The Cougar Growl in Club RT. We had a special event on Thursday, and had a draw for Sheba, the cuddly cougar, about the only cuddly thing about us. Writing "Beauty of Sunset" for the cougar series has been a wonderful experience, working with savvy writers I'm proud to be associated with. The Growl was less of a promotion, and more of a celebration. I plan to write another cougar book, but I don't write as fast as some people, so although I'm aiming for this year, I'll have to see how my other projects go. I'm currently writing a new Richard and Rose, and they always take time to do.
4. Meeting friends and reconnecting. Gail Delaney and Jennifer Rainieri of Desert Breeze Publishing, all the Cougar ladies, Kathryn Falk and her husband, Kenneth Rubin, Ollie, Supereader and now bookseller, Cait Miller, Linnea Sinclair and many others. That is such fun. And meeting new people, like the utterly charming Victoria Alexander and Cheyenne McCray and Judi McCoy. I should really try to promote myself more, but at RT I tend to get carried away and I have far too much fun!
5. The two booksignings. So wonderful, that people buy my books! I never cease to be amazed by that. This year I had Ellora's Cave and Loose-Id ebooks at the Expo, and three of my Samhain historicals at the book fair. Amazingly, I sold out of "Yorkshire" quite early on, and was only left with a couple of copies of "Tantalizing Secrets" and "Met By Chance." We're only allowed three titles. Amazingly, because the "star" authors were urban fantasy writers, and so the fans who travelled there wanted to see the likes of JR Ward, Jim Butcher and Richelle Mead, so I thought my historicals wouldn't stand a chance. I was wrong, and very happy to be so.
6. I have to mention meeting Barbara Taylor Bradford. Oh my lord, I was star struck. I read "A Woman of Substance" when it first came out, and I loved it. It opened my eyes to certain possibilities, and did influence my writing. I stammered like anybody would, but she was gracious and extremely nice.

Worst part was coming home, because the volcano got me. They diverted our flights, because although Manchester Airport was open, Scottish airspace was not. I was put on a flight to Heathrow 6 hours after my scheduled flight. There I got lucky, having a seat with extra leg room and sitting next to a very nice family, who didn't want to converse all the time, and didn't want to ignore me. The flight from Heathrow to Manchester was tolerable, and then I got home. And slept the clock around. I can't remember the last time I did that.

Excerpt from Crystal Tides

This excerpt is for over 18's only.

Kai had just about given up on love -- until he met sexy merman Tyler and Tyler's wife Zoe. The three heat Kai's hot tub to scorching together, but now Kai's seen something he wants and he plans to have it. He doesn't want another fleeting relationship. He wants Tyler and Zoe. For keeps.

Zoe's not sure she can commit to two men, but when danger threatens the underwater archaeological excavation she's working on, she needs them both to protect. Zoe and Tyler's oldest enemy has returned. They've always run from him, but now it's time to turn and fight.

But Tyler's going to have to trust Kai to protect the love of his life. Can he?

Zoe got her first good look at the tub and caught her breath. It lay at the end of the room and up two upholstered steps, steam wafting into the air. The bathroom itself consisted of shades of blue, with the porcelain white and the fittings shiny chrome. Roman blinds were the only adornment the windows had, and she saw why once she'd mounted the steps and slid into the bath.
Headrests lined the wall the bath—or rather, the hot tub—rested against. And it stood higher than the rest of the room because the whole point was the view.
It revealed a magnificent view of the sea. Gray waves, crested with foam, lapped against tiny buoys that blinked orange as the water washed over them. The long pier jutted like an invasion at the left. Altogether three windows opened onto the view.
Kai joined her, and he moved to her right, while Tyler stepped in and took her left side.
Zoe broke the silence. “This is fantastic.”
“I love it.” Kai slid his now wet hand up her arm and cupped her shoulder. When she tore her gaze away from the view outside and watched him, he was staring down at her breasts. Then he lifted his regard, taking his time, and she felt as if he touched her before he met her eyes.
Blue, blue eyes stared into hers. His smile came slowly. For a moment out of time they held that position, and Tyler, sitting quietly next to her, let it happen. Then Kai leaned forward and reached out a hand to Tyler.
Zoe knew Tyler never wanted to touch the partners they occasionally shared their bed with but he tolerated the necessary contact. This time he took Kai's hand. “I know what I want,” Kai said, “but I don't want to make either of you unhappy at any time. That doesn't mean I don't want to push. I will, and I'll keep pushing. But please open your mind, take everything as it comes, and if it feels good, block your judgment and just let it happen.”
Next to her, Tyler stiffened. Then he took a deep breath. “Deal,” he said and shook Kai's hand in an oddly formal gesture.
Deciding she wasn't about to be left out, Zoe put her hand atop their clasped ones. “Deal.”
Kai gave them an easy smile and broke contact first. He reached behind him and lifted down a clear glass jar. Frowning critically, he took off the lid and sniffed before sprinkling a handful of the jar's contents on the water. Dried leaves and flowers floated on the surface, but unlike dried herbs they began to melt. A scent Zoe knew well lifted into the steam-laden air. She gave a happy sigh. “Lavender and roses.”
“A friend of mine makes these.” Kai replaced the jar. “She does several mixtures, and this is the relaxing one.”
“Why are they melting?” Zoe asked, fascinated. She picked up one of the buds and watched it dissolve in her hand.
“She crystallizes them or something. I don't really know, but she claims every ingredient is natural.” Kai rubbed a few leaves over her skin then leaned forward to smell them. “Beautiful.” He licked her neck. “Tastes good too. That's what sold me on these.” He drew back, watching her, his eyes turned suddenly mischievous. “So how are you feeling now?”
He cupped one of her breasts in his hand and curved his thumb up to touch the peak. “You have lovely breasts. 'A quite magnificent bosom,' as another friend of mine was fond of saying a very long time ago.” He glanced at her face. “You look like honey personified, and you taste of spice and the forbidden.” He leaned forward, taking his time, slowly nearing her nipple that crinkled as his breath touched the tip.
She moaned.
“Oh yes,” he murmured, before he took it into his mouth.
He sucked, and her head slammed back. Just as well for the headrests, because the jolt of awareness that went through her forced carelessness into her. Hot water lapping around them, the spiking awareness of something new happening, and sheer sensation.
Tyler stroked her other breast, and a gentle swirl of water indicated he'd changed his position. His hand slipped between her thighs, and she opened for him. Tyler's hand was broader, his fingers thicker than Kai's.
Kai had left some slickness for Tyler, and he caressed it, took the clitoris between his finger and thumb, and pinched it the way he knew she liked.
Gasping for air, she realized the two men must be working in tandem, Kai's sucking in rhythm with Tyler's pinching. They meant for her to come again. Soon.
Kai's voice came darkly into her mind. “That's the beauty of having two Talents taking you.”
Oh yeah. Working together. Tyler kissed her throat. His tongue snaked out to lap a passage up and down, and he nipped the pulse at the base of her neck. She was finding it hard to breathe. Two mouths, four hands, all for her. At her pleasure. But not at her command.
Kai murmured to her, the words purring against her skin, and he touched her other breast, the one he wasn't kissing, tweaked it, and stroked it. Her legs opened, and Tyler slid his thumb into her, his fingers curling behind to pet and tickle her anus. He'd introduced her to that incredibly sensitive skin, and she'd let him take her there a couple of times, but she hadn't really enjoyed it. Maybe with Kai…
Such a beautiful man. Strong and lithe, built like a sprinter, muscles honed but smooth. She watched his cock and idly wondered what it tasted like.
Kai's groan didn't come as a surprise. She'd felt his presence in her mind, the kind of warmth Tyler had taught her to notice, that meant a Talent was making contact. Kai had picked up her thoughts about his cock, so she concentrated on that now. It strained, the top shiny, peeking clear of the water when he moved, reddened and engorged. Ready for her.
And the other joy about fucking Talents was that they didn't need to use protection. The thought gave her a lift of pleasure. Talents didn't transmit mortal diseases, neither were shape-shifters fertile, except during the three days of the full moon. The thought shot her arousal up to nuclear. She could experience them with nothing between them. Bareback.
“Please. Please one of you, fuck me now.” Her voice sounded strangled, tight. She pulled in a breath. Another.

Crystal Tides - a Dept 57 book
Kai finds his woman - and his man!
ISBN:      978-1-60737-571-5
From Loose-ID Publishing
http://www.loose-id.net/detail.aspx?ID=592




Where to find Lynne Connolly and her Books

My website
The hub of everything I do. It's updated regularly, with excerpts, short stories and other goodies:
http://www.lynneconnolly.com

My newsletter and yahoo group.
Members get a monthly newsletter, where the news ALWAYS breaks first, and new excerpts are aired. There is also a free book, available in the Files.
To join, go here:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/LynneConnolly/
or send an email here:
LynneConnolly-subscribe@yahoogroups.com

Lynne Connolly, author of Sophisticated Sensual Romance
http://www.lynneconnolly.com

New Release - A Betting Chance

Sapphira Vardon needs five thousand pounds to avoid a cruel marriage and a grim future, and there’s only one path for her. Don a mask and an assumed name, and risk everything to win at the gaming tables. First, though, she has to get through the door. Luckily she knows just whose name to drop.

Corin, Lord Elston, is curious to find out who used his name to gain entrance to Mother Brown’s whorehouse and gaming hell. The enigmatic woman who calls herself Lydia isn’t the sort of female usually found here. Behind her mask and heavy makeup, she’s obviously a respectable woman—who plays a devilish hand of cards.

Sapphira is desperate to keep her identity a secret, but Lord Elston’s devastating kisses and touches demand complete surrender. And once he learns the truth, there’s more at stake than guineas. Corin finds himself falling hard for a woman who’s poised to run. A woman who’s about to learn that he only plays to win…

A Betting Chance
In this game of hearts, winner takes all!
ISBN: 978-1-60504-973-1
From Samhain Publishing
http://www.mybookstoreandmore.com/betting-chance-p-5238.html

“I wish you’d trust me with your secret. I might be able to help,” Lord Elston said.
“I don’t know you.” Not in any recognized meaning of the word. The connection Sapphira felt to him had to be her imagination. He couldn’t feel it, not this wild needing.
“I think we should get to know each other better. I want you to trust me.” He touched her chin, his forefinger stroking her skin. She wanted to purr like a cat, but instead she moved back. Before she could retreat out of his reach he tilted her chin up so she had to meet his direct gaze. His eyes bored into her soul. “There’s something about you—I don’t know.” He bit his lip. It was the first time she’d seen any vulnerability about him and she found it meltingly seductive.
She couldn’t risk weakening. She put her guard back up and kept it firmly in place, reminding herself that he was a stranger, that she didn’t know him. “I told you, I can’t do that. I’m here to play cards, no more.”
“I love a challenge,” he murmured, and lowered his head.
The first touch of his lips against hers paralyzed her. Recognition—of what she still didn’t know—shot between them and she opened her mouth to protest, but he used it to his advantage and licked her lips before he slid his tongue into her mouth.
Now shock held her rigid. Nobody had ever kissed her like this. She hadn’t imagined it possible. She’d seen the caricatures in the shops with their sometimes explicit content, watched a man fondling a whore, seen mercenary transactions take place in the street—she’d thought herself reasonably au fait with sexual matters, for a virgin.
She’d been wrong. She knew that watching and experiencing were two different things but had never known it could be so devastatingly different. The intimacy floored her, and she could do nothing other than reach out for something to steady herself.
The memory of that other kiss—that disgusting, slobbering kiss George Barber had forced on her—returned in full measure. This didn’t compare, couldn’t. She wanted to press closer to Elston, not jerk away, put as much distance between them as she could. Nothing like that. If anything had told her that she couldn’t go ahead with marriage to George Barber, this did.
Corin cupped the back of her head as her hand made contact with his velvet-clad arm. She clutched it, praying for control as he took his time exploring her mouth, caressing her with soft strokes that made her heat up right down to the forbidden area between her thighs. He held her safe, didn’t move his hands or try to unfasten her clothing. One arm curved around her waist, the other over her wig. She wanted his hands under it, in her hair, cupping her head intimately. One of the strings of her mask loosened.
She jerked back, her hand going to her only protection against discovery. “No, don’t!” Her voice was breathless, whispery, but at least it still worked. As did her common sense.
“I want to see you.” He sounded as out of breath as she did.
“No, you can’t.” She reached up and retied the one string he’d managed to undo. Luckily the other one still held firm. He’d dislodged her wig, and she pulled it back into place, but he must have seen that she was a brunette.
“Why not? Will I know you?”
Having regained her composure, enough to confront him anyway, she shook her head. “It’s highly doubtful. But you might see me somewhere else.”
“And you’ve lost that accent. I knew you’d assumed it, but there’s still a tinge left. Are you a Londoner?”
Born and bred. “I’ve visited London a lot,” she said, hoping desperately to put him off the scent. She had to get out of here before he guessed more. Before he had her out of her clothes and spread out on the bed for his pleasure. How could she have been so stupid?
But she had to pass him to get to the door, and he caught her skirts. “A challenge, sweet Lucia. Just between us.”
“Why?”
“Because of the danger. Because you want a bit of excitement in your life.” If only he knew she’d have more excitement than she’d ever wanted soon. But she appreciated that he didn’t threaten her. He could have her barred from this house with very little trouble, but he hadn’t done it.
She turned around, willing at least to listen, but keeping some distance between them, as much as this small room would allow. He sat there in his splendid clothes looking every inch a prince. A wicked prince. He released his clutch on her skirt, and she resisted the urge to put her hand where his had just been, to touch the residual warmth. “Well?”
“Let me get to know you better. You intrigue me. Can you meet me, talk to me, with your mask and maquillage off? Can you look me in the face without your protection?”
“No.” She couldn’t do it. With no mask or makeup he’d see every expression on her face, and he’d know she was his for the taking, however hard she fought against it.
He leaned back, smiling. “A challenge, then. A bet, just between us, with no money at stake. If I recognize you and challenge you in public without your disguise, you promise to meet me at a place of my choice.”
“Why?”
He smiled. “I want you, sweet Lucia. I want to see your face while I’m making love to you.”
Before she could repress it an image flashed into her mind. Him, naked, admiring her naked body, kissing it, touching it. Oh she wanted it so much, but she couldn’t. Mustn’t. She held back her shock. Barely. “And what’s in it for me?”
His rich laugh filled the small space with joy. “I hope to give you pleasure as I’m taking it.”
She pulled out of his grasp, put her hand on the door latch. “I can’t.” Then she was gone, hurrying toward her servant, Frankie, as fast as she could without colliding with anyone or losing her foothold.

Update

I'm really sorry I've neglected this blog recently. I send most of my stuff to the ladies at The Good, The Bad and The Unread, where a great bunch of duckies hang out. But I should try to do this more often!

March 2010 newsletter

News

Wow, March! And finally the snow goes away and the sun comes out!
Not that I can do much more than look at it out of the window while I get on. When did this absorbing hobby become a full-time job? Not that I'm complaining (much) because it's the best job I've ever had.

So in a couple of days I'm off to Loughborough, to sit on a panel at the Writing Industries Conference. The panel is "Traditional Romance vs Paranormal Romance." While these things make me incredibly nervous (am I supposed to admit that?) I'm with authors Mary Nichols and Sue Moorcroft, so I'm also looking forward to it enormously.
The conference looks great, with one-to-one editor and agent meetings and a number of panels and workshops. So if you can make it, here are the details:
http://writingindustries.com/
I know I mentioned it last month, but I thought a reminder might be in order, since it's happening this weekend.

The first ERWA newsletter has come out with one of my reviews in it. I'm really enjoying the new challenge.
http://erotica-readers.com/ERA/SL/BR-Magic_University_2.htm

And there are quite a lot of my reviews this month at The Good, The Bad and The Unread, together with a column on the growth of self-publishing, and what might be driving some of the demand.
http://tinyurl.com/yf48jnn

I was one of the two runners up in the Love Romances annual awards, for "Harley Street." Since I share the award with the wonderful Alex Beecroft, I'm delighted with it. I don't do much canvassing for awards, so it's doubly warming when I win something.

And to writing:
I'm still writing Jack's book from the STORM universe. Jack led me a wild dance and I had to stop part way through and rewrite. It happens sometimes, when a character doesn't work within the plot, and needs rethinking. Since I care more about the characters, it's always worth stopping and rewriting.

I've also been deep in planning with the ladies from Tempt the Cougar for our Cougar Growl at RT Convention. We've booked an hour at Club RT on the Thursday where we plan to have lots of fun and give stuff away. It's been an absolute joy working with these women, so much that I want to do another cougar story. The conflicts fascinate me.

No new releases in March, except for "Venice," out in print, so I thought you'd like a little of that for this month's excerpt.

Excerpt from Venice

Venice is perfect for their honeymoon. Unless an assassin plays his cards right…

Richard and Rose, Book 3

At long last, it is Lord and Lady Strang’s wedding day. Yet no sooner do Richard and Rose leave their wedding breakfast than two shots ring out, forcing a hasty change in honeymoon plans. Instead of traveling together by yacht, Richard goes on ahead, making sure the road to Venice is safe for his beloved.

Rose is by no means alone, however. Along her journey by packet, coach, even mule, she befriends young couple, the Ravens, who have a strange confession to make. They are traveling incognito—and are really the newlywed Lord and Lady Strang!

Once reunited in Venice, Richard and Rose heat up the sheets, making Richard consider the delightful possibility of keeping his wife in bed for the rest of their stay. Except Venice is as full of knaves as London, and one of them is still trying to find them with a bullet.

The Ravens could hold the key to the assassination attempts. Or perhaps they are playing a deadly game of their own…

Excerpt:

The following day the sound of bells woke me, myriad bells, commanding the faithful to attend church. If we had joined the British community here, no doubt they would have expected us to attend, but we had protected our privacy too well to let it slip now.

I turned my head to look at my husband, but he was still asleep. I watched him, so vulnerable in sleep I could almost see the boy he had been, before his nightmares had begun.

I slipped out of bed and went to the chair where I had thrown my dressing gown the night before. I threw it around my shoulders, thrust my arms into the sleeves and then went to the two long windows, withdrawing the bolts holding the shutters closed on the first one. I didn’t open the other window, because its light would have fallen directly on the bed and woken him.

I stood by the window, looked out at the glow of Venice and listened to that glorious sound, from the deepest boom to the brightest, highest chime.

How could I have got this far? Last year, a forgotten old maid, preparing to dwindle into a dependant spinster, this year the cherished wife of the man I was meant for. How close we came to not meeting at all! Or, if we had met and it had been in company, I doubt he would have noticed me. I never showed well in company. He might even have been married already to Julia Cartwright. I might have married Tom, spent all my life in Devonshire, the wife of a country squire. Once I would have been happy with that but not after I’d met Richard.

If Richard was a country squire, it was enough, more than enough. That he was not sometimes left me feeling inadequate, not up to the position I must now learn to take. I hadn’t been brought up to it, as the girls he’d been presented to year after year had—to be the eventual mistress of a great estate and a member of one of the first families in the country. It filled me with dread but I would do it for his sake. Here, in this paradise, I’d start to learn.

The rustle of the sheet behind me told me he had woken, but I didn’t turn round. I heard him cross to the chair in his turn and fling on his gown and then felt him slip his arms around my waist and rest his cheek on my hair. We didn’t speak, but I put my hand over his and we stood, listening to the Sunday greetings outside.

“I’m so afraid I’ll let you down when we go home.”

“You won’t,” he assured me calmly. “If you’re reserved, everyone will assume you’re proud. Stand tall and always make sure they look away first.”

His warm breath tickled my neck. “I love you very much,” I said.

“I know. It’s all that matters. We’ll buy you some fine clothes, the sort that stand alone and you can inhabit them while they speak for you. Shall we buy an estate in Devonshire and go and live there, in seclusion?”

I turned away from the window into his arms. He could have been reading my mind. If I had accepted his offer he would have gone through with it, but it wouldn’t make him happy. “No. You are what you are and as long as you’re here with me, I’ll do whatever’s required of me gladly. Will you come to my presentation at court?”

“Of course. My mother will present you. It’s soon over and a dead bore. I don’t move in any royal set, so be assured that won’t come into our lives to any great extent. For the rest, we’ll please ourselves and if you’re not happy, you must promise to tell me.”

“I promise.” We kissed to seal the bargain.

I slipped out of his arms and went to open the shutters on the other window. Light streamed across the unmade bed. I turned to see him watching me from the middle of the room, golden hair lit by the sun, tousled from sleep, making him look like a knowing putto. I went back to him.

“I said something once about these bells,” he reminded me, mischief in his voice. “Do you remember?”

Of course I remembered. It had been in the humble nursemaid’s room at Hareton Abbey. “That you’d like to make love to me in the Venice sun, with the sound of the water outside and the bells. You made me blush.”

“So I did. Do you think I could make you blush now?”

Venice - Richard and Rose, book four
Venice is perfect for their honeymoon. Unless an assassin plays his cards right…
http://samhainpublishing.com/romance/venice
ISBN:      978-1-60504-517-7

News

February already, and it's the shortest month of the year, so that will be over before we can turn around!
The countdown to Romantic Times has begun and I'm starting to get my promotional items together. I really love Romantic Times, but I'll try not to talk about it too much until nearer the time!

Instead, there are a couple of things you might like to know about.
Samhain is doing an awards thing, the Sammie awards, and while I can't hope to compete with luminaries like Deirdre Knight and Maya Banks, it would be nice to get a respectable showing. So if you want to vote for me, or any other Samhain author, here is where you go:
http://www.samhainpublishing.com/
And then click on the "Click here to vote" button. There are cover awards, best author awards and so on. I won't go and vote for myself, I don't do that, and I don't enter contests very much, but I am entered in this one, anyway.
Honestly? It would be a kick to win.

For those of you in the UK, I've been asked to sit on a panel at Loughborough University, at the Writing Industries Convention. It's a really good convention, with one-to-ones with editors and agents, and I'm honored to have been asked. It's only the second year, but it's proving hugely popular. If you want to check it out, it's here:
http://writingindustries.com/
And I'm on the Paranormal Romance panel. If you attend, do come and say hello! It's on the 6th March.

I've also extended my reviewing. As well as reviewing for The Good, The Bad and The Unread, I've been asked to review for ERWA (Erotic Readers and Writers Association).
http://www.erotica-readers.com/
It is a serious endeavour to find the best in erotic writing and reading, and is a prestigious set up. I've been a member for some time and I was thrilled when they asked me to review for them. My first book will be a Spice book, "Rampant" by Saskia Walker. But I'm not saying if I liked it or not here, you'll have to find out nearer the time!

I just wanted to thank you for making my first venture into the contemporary, "Beauty of Sunset," such a success. I had my sales figures and they were good. Not spectacular, but few sales figures are these days! Enough to make me very happy. Working with the ladies of the Tempt the Cougar blog and the Cougar Challenge series was more than fun, it was a learning experience that I really value. I want to write another, but the muse hasn't visited me yet. Instead, I wrote a completely unrelated contemporary that I've sent to my editor and I'm waiting on tenterhooks to hear about it.
I've written a "Naughty Nooner," a free short story featuring Edie and John from "Beauty of Sunset" and that should be out at Ellora's Cave soon. I haven't had the release date yet.

I spent most of January editing and rewriting. I've rewritten the Richard and Rose book, "Darkwater" into "Hareton Hall" (because Samhain already have a book called Dark Waters and they don't like to duplicate titles). I'm going to start writing the next one soon. While Richard and Rose don't always sell well initially, I've found they do well over time, so I'm happy that those of you who enjoy their exploits are sticking with them. I really love writing the books, and the chances are that I'd do it anyway. Every time I start thinking businesswise, something happens to waylay me and I end up writing another book that I love!
I also edited "Crystal Tides," a new Dept 57 book that is due out in April, and "A Betting Chance," a Triple Countess book, also out in April.

In February, I plan to start the next STORM book, which will feature Jack, the cat shape-shifter from the Ecstacy in Red series. I'm toying with the idea of giving it a new title, since it's very different from the previous four and might do better as a standalone story. I think the STORM series will go into single titles for a time, because I don't have a Big Idea that would go nicely into a series. More and more I'm finding that I'm interested in the characters and their dilemmas, and so it makes sense to deal with them that way. But I'd love to know your ideas on that!

Excerpt from Tantalizing Secrets

Tantalizing Secrets is now out in print! The books are beautiful, and now I can see the Secrets series on my bookshelf, I think they are some of the prettiest books I've seen. I do plan to do more, maybe Antonia needs a book of her own, but I'm also being asked to do Freddy's book, from the Richard and Rose series. It's mighty tempting! Anyway, here is a snippet from Tantalizing Secrets to tempt you into the bookstores and maybe lighten your day a little!

He threw back his head and crowed with laughter. “Oh, my dear, how well you know me already. I shall have to take care with you.”
“Not after all those sophisticated ladies of the ton.”
“You have something very rare in society. Straightforward honesty.”
He meant it. She saw no subterfuge in his gaze. Arabella felt he’d just given her a far more profound compliment than the verbal one. Tentatively she smiled, then got to her feet.
Her sewing slipped forgotten to the floor, and Peter rescued it for her. When he handed it back his fingers touched hers. She let the embroidery fall again and then bent to retrieve it with suddenly clumsy fingers. He took her elbows and raised her up before she could retrieve it. She looked up and met his eyes, knowing what was to happen and unwilling to prevent it.
He kissed her. A gentle, undemanding kiss. She didn’t do anything to stop it, and then felt him slip his arms around her waist. He lifted his head, tilted it a little and returned to the fray.
This time he meant it. He opened his lips, taking hers with them and slid his tongue into her mouth. Arabella was stunned. She’d never felt anything remotely like this before. The world began to drift away. No wonder they were willing, these other women.
He tasted her and she let him. When he withdrew, she almost fell into the trap, and followed him, but remembered just in time and pulled back. She stared up at him, breathless.

Arabella Mason is too busy investigating her brother-in-law’s “accidental” death to entertain thoughts of love. She’ll go to any lengths to ease her sister’s grief, even accept the help of the distressingly attractive Viscount Bredon, Peter Worsley. Instead of answers, the trail of clues only leads to more questions. Who was her brother-in-law, really…and why does Peter, who poses as her brother in public, make mincemeat of her resistance in private?

A successful politician and confirmed bachelor, Peter has bedded the loveliest women in society. He never imagined he’d wind up in a Leicester backwater, helping a pretty widow investigate his brother’s untimely death. As his suspicions of foul play grow stronger, the danger rises—and so does his desire for Arabella. One kiss, and she snatches away all his resolve, leaving him wondering which he wants more…

To find his brother’s killer? Or keep Arabella safe—and make her his?

Tantalizing Secrets
A murder… A lord’s desire…and her quiet, respectable life is gone forever.
ISBN: 978-1-60504-394-4
From Samhain Publishing
http://samhainpublishing.com/romance/tantalizing-secrets

January 2010 newsletter

News

Happy new year!

Are you planning anything in the new year? I've booked my place at the Chicago Miniature Shows next year and at the Romantic Times Convention and I'd love to see you at either, or both!
As for writing - well, 2009 was an exciting and rather different. I love the way that, in the writing world, things never turn out exactly as you think! I started the STORM series last year, with the Red series of books so far, "Red Alert," "Red Heat," and "Red Shadow," but after this series, I'm planning some standalone stories. I'm thrilled that so many of you bought the books and made it possible for me to continue the adventure. I'm currently writing the next book, currently titled "Red Passion," about Ricardo Gianetti, so I'll let you know its progress.
Department 57 is also continuing, over at Loose-Id. "Crystal Tides," Kai the merman's story is to be released in April, and "Jewel of the Dragon" has been contracted to be rewritten, re-edited and released later in the year.
I had my first contemporary romance released this year, too. I still don't have the numbers on "Beauty of Sunset," but I loved writing it, and if it's possible, write some more.
The historical romances started the year a little quietly. I'm thrilled that Richard and Rose have found a whole new readership, but at first, sales were, while respectable, not as good as I'd hoped. But over the year sales have grown, surprising me by the growth, and now I'm really happy with the way it's progressing. January 12th sees the release of the first never-seen-before Richard and Rose from Samhain, "Eyton." I can't wait. I've also written Corin's story, "A Betting Chance," from the Triple Countess series, and it's due to be released in April.
So I've been a bit busy. How about you?

Excerpt from Eyton

Scandal, murder and passion—an ordinary day for Richard and Rose. Richard and Rose, Book 5 When Richard and Rose visit his family estate in Derbyshire to celebrate the christening of their firstborn, Rose comes face to face with some hard realities about the powerful Kerre family. The vast majority of them are far from delighted with Richard’s choice of wife. Plus, they think a man who shares his bed with his wife every night must have something wrong with him. Rose is driven half mad by Richard’s overly careful love for her. Somewhere underneath that smooth, sophisticated surface lies the passionate, intense lover she longs for—and she takes steps to seduce that savage lover back into her bed. Their joyous occasion is marred by the theft of a valuable necklace. Richard’s family looks to him to solve the crime—but something isn’t adding up. Evidence pointing to two trusted servants seems too convenient…and then they’re murdered. From the tangle of jealousies, secrets and desperate lies, Richard and Rose once again dance on the edge of danger to achieve justice—without dragging the family name into public scandal. Warning: Sharp-shootin’ Rose goes gunning for her man in this one. So steamy sex ahoy!

One of the things I appreciated about my maid was her ability to be silent when I needed it, and to converse without too many your ladyships and the like. Tonight we were quiet, and she went about her duties efficiently, hardly raising a sound from the floor as she moved to the dressing room to take my clothes away. I used the precaution she had suggested. There was no need to mention it to her. What I required, a small sponge and a bottle, waited for my use in the dressing room.

I wore only my dressing gown. It was the one Richard had bought me in Venice that I had put away during my pregnancy. I was pleased to be able to get into this one again, a delicate confection of ivory silk and floral embroidery. He’d bought it in the week between his arrival in Venice and mine.

I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes, remembering that time and how overwhelmed I was by the intensity of his loving and the intensity of my response, the trouble we’d shared there fading into the back of my mind. Partly because of that time I trusted him wholly now and respected his needs as much as he respected mine.

I heard the door from his dressing room open, but I didn’t open my eyes. I smiled as I breathed in that sharp perfume he always wore, and felt his lips gently touch mine. I opened my eyes and met his blue gaze, saw him smiling at me. “You’re here.”

“So I am,” he replied. “Are you tired, my love? Would you like to go to bed?”

“No I’m not tired, but I would like to go to bed.” It was an echo of our first night in Venice, an indication he had been thinking about it too.

I went into his arms. We stood for a long time, holding each other, before he gently loosened his hold and took my hand to lead me to the bed. He undid the fastenings on my dressing gown and undid his own. Neither of us wore anything underneath. I touched his hair, short, with a natural wave. I thought it gave him an angelic look. “Will you ever wear a nightcap?”

“I doubt it. The absurdity would make us both laugh too much to get any sleep.”

“You could wear a nightshirt with it,” I pointed out. “Most men do.”

“And you’re classifying me with most men?”

I smiled. “There you have me.”

Softly he kissed me and pushed my dressing gown off my shoulders. I let it slide to the floor.

I thrilled to see his gaze ignite. “I can’t believe I have you.”

“Believe it. It’s true.” His voice excited me right to the marrow.

He slipped off his own gown and drew back the light bedcovers that were all we needed on this warm night. Candles burned on the dressing table and on each of the nightstands so we could see each other. I got into bed and held out my arms for him. He came to me gladly.

“This time,” I whispered to him, my mouth close to his, “I want to make love all night. I want to see the sun rise, and know I’ve been with you every minute, every hour.” We would make tonight count.

He moved to hold me close, to make love to me, to show me his love in the most physical way, but the way that brought spiritual fulfilment sighing in its wake, that made the difference between love and sexual congress. This would be our time, our night.

I was determined to make this night memorable. Since it was summer and the fire not lit, I had a supply of candles on hand, so I could see him whenever I wanted to. My hair was brushed into a shining sheet of waves, a chestnut sea for him. I left it loose, to fall below my shoulders for his pleasure.

He took his time. He touched me, loved me, as though this were the first time and we had come fresh to each other, except by now he knew what I liked best, what would give the best response, the most intense sensation. I no longer felt awkward with him, indeed I hadn’t felt like that since our first night together.

He touched me, kissed where he had touched, my mouth first, deep and sweet, our bodies pressed together, my breasts against his chest, our legs entwined. “You have the sweetest taste in the world, my love, my only love.”

I touched him in return and ran my hands over his lean strength. “My heart is yours, my body and everything I have.”

He slid down, cradling my breasts in his hands before he kissed each one and took my nipples into his mouth to taste and nip. He could have done that all night and I would have begged for more, but he left them with reluctant kisses, to touch and lick further down, lingering at the soft space inside my hip, where I was particularly sensitive. His hands on my hips prevented me from wriggling out from his grasp, and his low chuckle told me he knew the reaction he had on me.

I gasped as he reached the inside of my thigh, lingering, softly kissing me. Every touch sensitised me even more. I could hardly bear his touches, but I wanted more and yet more. The longing was killing me, but it was exquisite torture, and I whispered, “Please—oh yes,” as he finally reached the place I yearned for him to be.

“I have missed this so much, sweetheart. Your taste has haunted my dreams.”

http://www.booksonboard.com/index.php?BODY=viewbook&BOOK=561412

Newsletter, December, 2009

News

It's getting really cold here in the UK and last week the norovirus hit our house with hurricane force. I had it first, but it's extremely contagious and since I was incubating it for a day or so beforehand, I could have infected a fair few people. Without going into details, let's just say it's very, very nasty.

I have to say, I'm constantly astonished by the people who want to read the stories I wrote for myself for so long. It's opened a new world for me, one where I get to do a bit of globetrotting, after a lifetime of travel sickness and disability, and it means I can get to visit places I've always dreamed about. Next year, as well as Romantic Times in Columbus, I'm going to Chicago for the three big miniatures fairs. I can hardly wait! So for those of you to go to either event, I'll see you there and please tell me, so we can meet. This year has seen slow but steady progress, and a consolidation of several areas, not least the new STORM series, which has fulfilled my hopes for it, and the development of the historical arena. I'm working on a new series now, but I want to make sure I get it right before I discuss it in any more detail!
Thanks for helping make a lifetime's dream come true.

Gearing up for Christmas now. I refuse to think seriously about Christmas until December arrives. In the city where I was brought up, Leicester, October mean Divali, the Hindu Festival of Lights, and they used to leave the lights up afterward, so they kind of merged with the Christmas lights later in the year. Very pretty! But it's December already and I haven't even got the tree in place.
So now for the book news.

"Red Shadow", the new STORM book, has had its release date brought forward, and it's out December 2nd! I am thrilled to bits, and I've put an exclusive extract for you below, so if you enjoy my paranormals, do take a peek. This is my first vampire book for awhile, and it was really good to get back to them. Although my vampires are a little different to the standard myth (I used a lot of Russian mythology when I constructed my vampire "world") they are definitely red-blooded and passionate. Johann Kovacs meets Ania Zelinski in LA, his idea of vampire hell, and no holds are barred. The cover is lovely, just how I imagined these two and does depict a scene in the book.
The page for "Red Shadow" is here. http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-7828-50-red-shadow.aspx

On the historical front, the book I told you about last month, the new Triple Countess book, has been accepted. It's to be called "A Betting Chance," and features Corin, Lord Elston, and Sapphira Vardon, the daughter of a wealthy Cit, who is looking for a way out of an unwanted marriage alliance. But not in the conventional way! It's scheduled for release next April from Samhain Publishing.

Meantime, the new Richard and Rose book is due out in January. "Eyton" is the first brand new instalment in their story for four years. I'm so pleased to be moving on with their books again.

I'm taking part in the new Samhain contest, which is currently being put in place. Check with http://www.thesamhellion.com for some really wicked prizes!

I was so pleased that so many of you bought "Beauty of Sunset," and accompanied me into the world of contemporary romance. I loved writing the book and I'm hoping to write another.





Excerpt

Red Shadow(Ania has attended a function she part-owns, suspecting that the manager is running a prostitution scam on the side. She's incognito, dressed as a waitress. Johann is looking for a contact.
Then Ania drops a tray of champagne glasses.)
Now read on.

Shocked, she moved her hand and felt the sting. Crying out, she pulled away and felt the glass scratch her hand. “Oh no!” Instinctive reaction had her bringing her hand to her mouth, sucking the side where the glass had touched.

A strong hand pulled it away. “Let me see.”

Silence surrounded them like their own island of peace. A touch, warm and strong, took her hand in a warm grasp. A male rumble of sympathy.

She knew who had her hand, who had hunkered down to help her. Tall, dark and oomph. She tried to think rationally. This man could save her from Chase recognizing her and assuming she was in on the deal. But all she could feel was his hand, warm against hers, and the slightly rough texture of his handkerchief when he pressed it against her wound. His touch shot through her senses. He drew it away and then replaced it after he’d folded it to a clean side. “It’s not so bad. You won’t need stitches.”

“Are you sure?” She had to get out of here before Maynord recognized her and blew her cover. “I think there’s a first aid guy downstairs. Maybe I should go see him.”

“I’ve done some first aid. Enough to know you’re breathing regularly, not unconscious and not bleeding to death. Look, let’s get out of here so I can treat it for you.”

That suited her perfectly.

She let her hair fall over her face, but just before she exited the ballroom, someone stood in her way. Jeanine. A quick glance showed her Chase was standing a little way off. She pivoted so he couldn’t see her face.

“I hope you realize that you needn’t bother coming back?”

She met Jeanine’s gaze and bit her lower lip, the best she could do right now to offer regret. But a tutting sound reminded her she wasn’t alone. “Could you please move aside? This woman is bleeding.”

Jeanine spared a glance at Ania’s napkin-shrouded hand. She sniffed. “We can’t have blood on the glasses. Perhaps it’s as well they were smashed. Normally I’d expect you to clear up the mess, but I suppose you’ll have to take care of your hand first. I’ll get someone else to deal with it. I’m most displeased.” She glanced at the man beside her. “You don’t have to concern yourself with this, sir. I’m so sorry about it. Since the band has just struck up, may I introduce you to a suitable partner?” She moved aside to stand in front of Chase Maynord, effectively blocking his view.

The man smiled. “I have some first aid experience and the accident was more than half my fault. I wish you would reconsider your decision to fire her.”

Jeanine’s smile was all about sex and nothing about sincerity. “I have to stand by my decision.” She paused. “Unless you would prefer to engage her services.”

Ania caught her breath. How dare this woman be so blatant? She had to get out of this fast, before Jeanine implicated her. Her heart plummeted.

Her expression must have fooled Jeanine into thinking she was in despair, because the woman put up her elegant, pointed chin and stared down her nose at her. She must have four inches advantage on Ania, especially since Ania had dumped her usual high heels in favor of flats tonight. Jeanine hadn’t, which would make her around five ten in stockinged feet.

It didn’t help to know that.

Elegant, classy women had always intimidated her. She couldn’t help what she was or that underneath lay a bullied schoolgirl who’d never quite lost her awe of the soignée seniors, but at least she’d gotten better at hiding it.

This time she didn’t try. She let her hair hang over her face and bowed her head. “I only dropped a tray.”

“I’ll have the bill for damages sent on to you.”

Then the stranger next to her surprised her. He reached into his pocket and drew out a wallet before handing Ania a couple of bills. Two hundred bucks. “If that doesn’t cover it, let me know. I was at least half to blame.” Before she could protest, which she had every intention of doing, he cupped her elbow and gave her a gentle push. “We really have to get that cut seen to. Can’t have you bleeding all over the ballroom.” He guided her out, but not before he leaned toward Jeanine and murmured, “I’ll see you later. Don’t forget.”

“No, of course not,” she replied, but they were already on their way.

They stepped into an elevator and he pushed a button, then pushed her elbow so her hand was thrust up. “Hold it up until we get there.”

“Where?”

“My suite.”

He said nothing until they were out of the elevator and partway along one of the plush carpeted hallways that led to the hotel’s suites. Not a room. She chuckled low in her throat, the sound escaping before she could suppress it. “The tux really was misleading.”

With a lithe movement he pivoted to face her. She found his lopsided grin endearing. “Guess it was. Come on.” He led her halfway down then swiped a card through a slot. What surprised her was the extra level of security when he pressed his thumb against a plate on the door.

She walked in after him. “That’s not usual in hotels.”

The large room was lit by soft lights inset in the ceiling and several table lamps, two of which he flipped on when he walked across to the large windows. “Come into the bathroom,” he said.

Ania didn’t think about not doing it until he led her past the large, Spanish-style bed to the well-appointed bathroom. She’d never seen a hotel room like it. Oh she knew they existed, but this was something else. Seeing it, smelling the delicately perfumed air, feeling the soft carpeting under her feet, added to the sense of luxury.

“Sit.” The bathroom even had a chair. She was used to sitting on the toilet seat at home and she didn’t exactly live in squalor. Obediently she sat on the soft cushions covering the cane seat. He shrugged off the coat and threw it over the back of the chair. “Let’s see.”

“It’s not so bad.” It stung, but it wasn’t throbbing. She peeled off the napkin and revealed the cut.

He turned on the faucet over the sink and took the napkin from her, soaking the part that she’d left unstained. “I know. We’ll clean it up and get a bandage on it. You should be fine.”

He sounded completely unconcerned, totally unlike his attitude downstairs. As if he read her, he squatted down in front of her, taking her hand and turning it. He dabbed at the wound, wiping away the blood that made it look worse than it actually was. Ania shuddered. He paused and looked up at her. “Are you okay?”

It was worse when he looked at her, his dark eyes perceptive. Touch and sight. Now all she needed was taste. His voice was dark and velvety, his scent perfect, all soap and aftershave and pure male. And she knew she couldn’t deny her attraction. The more she pretended it wasn’t there, the worse it got and it had done so ever since she’d first met his gaze in the ballroom.

Warmth spread through her mind, as if, as if…

Shit.

His smile broadened. “Yes. I wondered if you’d notice before I told you.” He examined her scratch, because that was all it was once he’d cleaned off the blood. “I’m a Talent.”

She snatched her hand back but his hold on her wrist firmed and she found herself trapped. “Why didn’t you say something before?” She tried to keep her breathing steady. She’d never knowingly been this close to a Talent before. Mythical creatures who’d been living among them all this time, vampires, shape-shifters, even merpeople. In the last year she’d seen a dragon on TV and a vampire talking calmly about his lifestyle on Larry King. And now she was staring at one. Her tension racked up to panic.

“Hey, calm down. We’re human, just like you. Just a different kind of human.”

Ania stared at the man, trying to imagine him as a different creature, changing his shape. But she couldn’t see anything other than his broad-shouldered frame. “So you say.”

He smiled. She wished he wouldn’t do that. “You know I’m in the outer part of your mind, don’t you? I read you when you dropped the tray. You didn’t want Chase to recognize you. You two got history?”

She bit her lip. “Something like that.” She didn’t trust him enough to tell him the whole truth, at least not yet. After all, she’d heard Johann arrange to meet the hag later.

“Well, he’s not available now. Jillian came back.”

She frowned. “Jillian?”

He tilted his head to one side. “An old flame. The love of his life. He thought she’d died three years ago. She hadn’t. So Chase is now a blissfully married man.” His smile twisted to one of cynicism. “Sooner him than me.”

“You don’t believe in marriage?”

“I think it’s fine—for other people.” He touched the napkin to the wound then threw it aside. “That should do. Let’s get this bandage on.”

He crossed the room, something that would take him a maximum of two steps in her small bathroom, but in this room it took five strides. She counted. He opened a cabinet and took out a small pack of bandages, selecting a couple after rejecting one or two others. Fastidious then. Fussy, even.

“Very particular,” he said as he came back to her.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” she said, irritated.

He looked up at her through his ridiculously thick lashes. “What?”

“Answer things I haven’t asked, only thought.”

“You should learn to control your thoughts.”

“Yeah, right.”

He carefully applied a bandage across one end of the long scratch. “That will sting for a couple of days.” He took the other one and peeled off the backing tape. She coughed.

She stared at him and watched fire spark in his eyes. Perhaps he was a dragon. She’d love to see a dragon for real.

He bent down and presented his hand, his mouth quirking up in a smile. “I’m Johann Kozac. Pleased to meet you.”

She took his hand in her unmarked right one. “Ania Zelinski.”

“Polish?”

“Third generation. My grandparents came over in World War Two.”

“I was Czech, came over at about the same time as your grandparents, I guess.”

She stared at him. “I thought you were in your mid thirties. I guess it’s hard to—to—”

“You’re doing real well.” His voice softened and he reached up a hand to smooth back her wayward hair. “Is this your first close encounter with a Talent?”

“I guess.”

“Does it bother you?”

She gave a short laugh. “I used to read a lot of fairy stories when I was a kid. So when we heard Talents did exist, it was kinda expected. I don’t know, but it didn’t come as much of a surprise as it should have done. And now we know for sure.”

“Come on.” He tugged her to her feet. “Let’s get a drink.”

“Shouldn’t you go back to the ball?” She let him draw her up and found herself disturbingly close to him. Close enough to feel the heat of his body against hers.

Instead of releasing her, he curved an arm around her waist. “My work there is done.” He stroked her waist and she felt him through her clothes as if she were naked. Disturbingly intimate. “I’ll gladly miss the rest of it.”

Red Shadow from Ellora's Cave
A Vampire For Ania
Order Page: http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-7828-50-red-shadow.aspx
ISBN: 9781419924378

Johann isn’t happy with his latest assignment for STORM. That changes when he meets Ania.
Johann and Ania ignite passion that lights up the Los Angeles sky. They can’t get enough of each other, even though Johann thinks Ania knows more than she’s telling about his quarry, the elusive Dr. Bennett.
Ania should be concentrating on her failing catering company and her sick brother, not spending her days and nights in sexual ecstasy. She just can’t stay away from Johann. When Johann introduces her to his best friend, she discovers what it’s like to have two demanding, lustful men in her bed.
She’s falling in love with Johann, even though she knows, as a vampire, his lifespan is much longer than hers. Perhaps in his arms she can discover what forever feels like. Or perhaps they’ll both die, if they don’t find Bennett before he finds them.

What's happening in October?

Newsletter, July 2009

News

Note: Don't forget to keep checking my website for the latest news and excerpts.

I have very exciting news! I hope you'll agree.
For a little while now I've been working with some women at Ellora's Cave to make a new series. It was the brainchild of Ciana Stone, who is a ball of fire and a great colleague. I hope now, a friend. We're producing a new series with a cougar theme, that is, older woman, younger man. Seven women meet at a romance convention, and agree that they need to move on, they're in a rut. One of their number challenges the others - find a younger man for real, don't just talk about it!
I thought this was interesting because it sets up new conflicts I hadn't thought about before, and if my book worked, it would be my first published contemporary romance. Not a paranormal being in sight.
My character is Edie, an ex supermodel and plastic surgeon John Sung, a half-Asian American. I've always had a weakness for a hot Asian man, so I could let my fantasies go with this one! Ellora's Cave were most insistent, and rightly so, that I emphasised there was no professional relationship between Edie and John. So he refuses to take her as his patient, refers her to someone else and then meets up with her another time.
The book was accepted by Ellora's Cave and we're working on the edits now. I really loved working on this one, it just flowed. My book is the second in the series, and the first, Samantha Kane's . Watch for "Play It Again Sam" on October 16th. My book, "Beauty of Sunset" should be out soon!
Oh, and before I forget. We have a blog. Our characters are blogging at the Tempt The Cougar blog. We thought it would be great fun to do that in real time, and let people join in.
The books are:

1. PLAY IT AGAIN, SAM by Samantha Kane
2. BEAUTY OF SUNSET by Lynne Connolly
3. WINTER’S THAW by Dalton Diaz
4. HOT TO TROT by Desiree Holt
5. ASSUME THE POSITIONS by Mari Carr
6. BLUE TATTOO by Mari Freeman
7. CAM’S HOLIDAY by Ciana Stone

and do visit the blog. http://temptthecougar.blogspot.com/




Writing - Kai's book is currently being assessed at Loose-Id. It was great fun to write and meant I could revisit Cromer, a seaside town in Norfolk which I really loved visiting in the summer. It's the home of the most decorated lifeboatman ever, one Henry Blogg. But Kai the merman isn't living there because of that!
I've started to write the next Triple Countess book, so at last Corin will find his lady. It should form a bridge between that and the new series, but if I say any more I'll jinx it, so I'll just carry on writing!

"Red Shadow," the next STORM book has been accepted at Ellora's Cave. This features the vampire Johann, my first vampire story since "Rubies of Fire," so that was a challenge, but a welcome one. I've introduced a few new characters, and you will get to reaquaint yourself with some new ones. The series also has a title - Ecstasy in Red. Isn't that nice? I do plan to continue this series with stories from Team Blue, and so on, as long as the ideas keep coming. While Team Red members were essentially fighting remnants left over from the old world, before Talents became generally known, Team Blue have a new challenge to face. But I'll let you guess that for now, as while I know where I want to take the series, I haven't worked out the details yet.

I'm currently writing a Triple Countess book. So for those of you who wanted a new historical, I'm working on it! Corin gets his lady, at last. I started to write Corin's story with Alethea from Last Chance, My Love, as heroine, but although they liked each other very much, they didn't fall in love. And I tried so hard to make it happen. Sometimes that happens, and since I wasn't on a deadline with this book I could go back and start again. This time I found someone and the magic happened!



Excerpt

A little taster from Beauty of Sunset. It's unedited, so please bear with my mistakes and oopsies!

Edie stood contemplating a splash of paint on canvas. She usually liked modern art but this exhibition had left her cold. Even though the splash was a particularly bright blue. Maybe she was getting old, or something. She’d felt enervated for a while now.

Then a sense, a feeling of warmth swept through her, and a voice, deep and somehow intimate, came from behind her. “Good evening.”

She caught her breath, breathed out slowly, and turned around. “Hi.”

John Sung, mouthwatering in a charcoal gray dress shirt, unbuttoned at the neck, and black pants that she knew had to be designer, probably Ralph Lauren from the cut. His coal-black hair was short, cut to shadow the shape of his skull and his clean-cut cheekbones pushed against the gleaming olive skin, just below the almond-shaped eyes.

As before he watched her with a single-minded intensity. She shuddered and resisted clasping her arms around her body in a protective gesture. She hadn’t felt this vulnerable for years. Forever.

Stupid. She shook her hair back off her face and held out her hand. “Nice to see you again.”

A brief touch of his fingers, then he was gone, but she felt the tingle of the contact and wondered at it.

“Do you like them?”

She glanced around and gave a small shake of her head. “They’re perfectly fine, but not precisely my thing.”

“Me too.”

She couldn’t walk away again. Remembering the advice the blog girls had given her she decided to take the plunge. Business between them was far from over, she knew that now. “I live fairly close. Come back for coffee?”

“I’d be glad to.”

An old invitation, but sometimes it meant just that. She could throw him out if she chickened out, but at least she’d know him better, get him out of her system. Or they might just take things a bit further. She’d play it by ear.

Once outside the gallery they passed the inevitable gamut of photographers, who were more interested in the young heiress who’d just entered the gallery and walked away from the event, where John lifted his hand and hailed a passing cab. “Dreadful, weren’t they?”

She laughed. “Yes, but it wouldn’t have been good to say it there. That artist is the latest sensation.”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t live with one of those daubs for long. They’ll be decorating some swish offices downtown before too long.”

That was so much what she was thinking she had to suppress her laugh. He helped her into the cab and she gave her address and leaned back. “Not your offices, though.”

“What?” She turned her head to see him staring at her. “Oh, yes. Not fucking likely. Pure crap. Pretty colored crap, but if I had to look at it everyday I’d probably go insane.”

She laughed, knowing what he meant. She kept her apartment clean and filled with only the things she needed, or she liked. Only a few people saw it these days, so she kept it exactly as she wanted it.

The taxi dropped them at her building and she let Sung—John—pay. Fighting over a few dollars didn’t seem worth it, especially with her stomach tying itself in knots. The night she’d allowed her fantasy to win played through her again, sending thrills through her. And he hadn’t even touched her. Probably wouldn’t.

They stood either side of the elevator, as if avoiding touch and he stood back and let her exit first when they reached her floor. She unlocked the door and passed through, turning on the floor lights and touching the dimmer. Not to intimate, just lower than full-on.

“Nice.” He stood in the center of the large room and turned around. She’d left the mezzanine in shadow, but its depths added richness to the effect. She’d kept colors muted and cool, comfortable and soothing rather than challenging. This was her home now.

“Thanks. My last husband liked the French Empire style. Fussy, lots of gold, you know the type.”

He laughed. “Yeah. I’ve visited places like that. This is more to my taste. Understated. Classy.”

She smiled as she walked through to the kitchen area and found the coffeemaker. “Do you want something fancy, cappuccino or latte?” Her huge machine did it all.

“No, just coffee, black, no sugar.”

Typical. Most men asked for it like that, but she’d bet a few secretly went for double shot Americano when nobody was looking. Somehow, this man seemed the black coffee type. “Make yourself at home.”

She wasn’t. She took hers with cream. Plenty of it. She put the cups on a tray and carried them through.

He’d settled on one of the wide sofas facing the window. Lights twinkled in a cityscape she’d dreamed about as a little girl in small-town England. Now she was here. Having that view reminded her every day how lucky she was. It helped. Sometimes.

She put the tray down on the glass coffee-table and sat next to him. They didn’t have to touch on this wide sofa, but somehow she ended closer than she’d planned. He sat, his arms spread over the back and arm, more relaxed than she’d imagined him.

“Do you want to know why I wouldn’t take you as a patient?”

Yes. She swallowed, and touched her throat. “Why?”

His glasses glinted as he turned away from the view to look at her. Behind the lenses his eyes gleamed with truth. “Because I can’t take a scalpel to you. You’re too perfect to be touched. I can’t do it.”

She frowned, squinting at him. “Are you sure you were looking at the right woman? Maybe one time I might have agreed with you, but you have to know that I’m forty-five years old. My years of perfection are behind me.”

“I don’t think so. You carry your life with you and you’ll only grow better with age. Your bone structure is awesome.”

“Is that a medical term?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” He huffed a laugh but didn’t sound amused. “Operating on you would be like smoothing the statue of the Venus de Milo back to a blurry approximation of what it should be.”

“You’re dissing plastic surgery? Don’t you make your living at it?”

His lips twisted in a wry smile. “Sure. But we don’t just do vanity stuff. And even then it isn’t always about vanity. Some women make their living from keeping their beauty. Actresses over forty have difficulty getting good leading roles, or they did before the cosmetic surgeon got to work. Pop stars need to be honed and buffed weeks after giving birth or leaving rehab.” He shrugged. “You know how it goes.”

“None better.” Although she’d never gone under the knife before she didn’t condemn people who made that choice. “But now it’s my turn. I take it the confidential doctor-patient relationship between us is no more?”

“You take it right. It was there for about five minutes. I’d still like to know why you want it done, but you’re not talking to a doctor here. Just me, John, a man.”
She loved that voice, the way it purred over her skin like the caress of silk.

Newsletter, September 2009

News

This month I had to concentrate on my home life, somewhat, but things I'd set in motion beforehand came to fruition this month.

My first piece of news is rather exciting. For anyone who thinks an author is all about the money, well, many of us actually do it for the love. So to have "Yorkshire" available as a free download in the Kindle store is amazing. And the responses have been amazing, too.
"Yorkshire" is available at the Amazon.com Kindle shop - free! Pick up the first in the Richard and Rose series for no charge at all.
http://tiny.cc/ryxO6
It's a full length novel set in the Georgian era.

Rose Golightly is a country girl who thinks her life will continue on its comfortable course, but a series of events changes that for good. On a visit to the ancestral estate of Hareton Abbey, Richard Kerre, Lord Strang, enters her life. A leader of society, a man known for extravagance in dress and life, Richard is her fate. And she is his.
YORKSHIRE
Richard and Rose are back!
http://samhainpublishing.com/romance/yorkshire
ISBN: 978-1-60504-269-5

Richard is to marry a rich, frigid woman in a few weeks, and has deliberately closed his heart to love. Then a coach accident throws his wounded body into Rose’s arms.
With one kiss, Richard and Rose discover in each other the passion they thought they’d never find.
But the accident that brought them together was an act of sabotage. Somewhere, in the rotting hulk of a once beautiful stately home, a murderer is hiding.
Richard and Rose set out to solve the mystery, and find the layers of scandal go deeper than simply determining who is guilty. And that doing the right thing could separate them—forever.

I hope you visit The Good, The Bad and The Unread blog from time to time. I have a regular column there, and I started doing it because I enjoyed it so much. Sybil, the owner, tries to keep it like a magazine, with lots of fresh input and views. I also review, mainly Harlequin/Mills and Boon. When I put a bad review up, I agonise over it, but a few things console me. I won't sugar-coat my reviews on books, but I always make it clear that it's only my opinion and someone else's could be entirely different. And when I review, I do it from the reader's perspective. That's why I won't review books written by friends or books put out by any of my publishers. Too close to home!
http://goodbadandunread.com/

Writing - I'm starting on a new series of hot historical novellas. I'm only on the planning stage right now, but a recent visit to London and the purchase of some great new books set me off on a new path. I'll probably feature characters from previous historicals, because there are a few with loose ends I've been asked to clear up, so it's not a new series as such, more a new direction for some favorite characters. I'm so excited about this series. I've never moved the historicals up into the erotic, and even given the setting of the stories I'm not sure all of them would qualify - I still intend to let the characters tell me which way they want the story to go.

I'm in the final stages of writing Kai's book for the Department 57 series. I've loved revisiting Kai, with his long, silver-blond hair and athletic body he's one of my favorite characters. A merman who is totally happy with his existence but aware that something is missing, or in Kai's case, two someones. There is the hint of another romance to come, but whether that will end happily or not, I don't know at this stage.

And "Red Shadow," the next STORM book has been accepted at Ellora's Cave. This features the vampire Johann, my first vampire story since "Rubies of Fire," so that was a challenge, but a welcome one. I've introduced a few new characters, and you will get to reaquaint yourself with some new ones. The series also has a title - Ecstasy in Red. Isn't that nice? I do plan to continue this series with stories from Team Blue, and so on, as long as the ideas keep coming. While Team Red members were essentially fighting remnants left over from the old world, before Talents became generally known, Team Blue have a new challenge to face. But I'll let you guess that for now, as while I know where I want to take the series, I haven't worked out the details yet.


My website
The hub of everything I do. It's updated regularly, with excerpts, short stories and other goodies:
http://www.lynneconnolly.com

My newsletter and yahoo group.
Members get a monthly newsletter, where the news ALWAYS breaks first, and new excerpts are aired. There is also a free book, currently being serialised, but it will be available in the Files for new members, when we've finished.
To join, go here:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/LynneConnolly/
or send an email here:
LynneConnolly-subscribe@yahoogroups.com

Newsletter, August 2009

News
All under-the-hood work this month. I'm writing and editing like crazy, nothing to get excited about, not yet, anyway, but I do enjoy working in that way. It's what I do, it's why I decided to enter this world. That and the lovely people I get to meet and the places I get to go to. Who'd have thought that sitting at home writing would lead to all this?

Anyway, to get more specific, I had a new release this month (I'll put an excerpt below for you). "Red Heat," the second book in the STORM universe, came out. And I loved writing this one, because Sorcerers are my only original addition to the paranormal universe. The others, shape-shifters, vampires and so on, are there for me to research and put my own twist on, but Sorcerers are all mine. They're people with a normal mortal lifespan, but with extraordinary psi gifts. They are born without the natural barrier everyone develops naturally during the first week of life, so they have to learn to erect it. Until they do, they're deeply vulnerable to psychic attack, so Sorcerer children are usually brought up in peaceful, remote locations, until they learn to cope with the constant psychic bombardment of reading people's thoughts and desires - whether they want to or not. All Sorcerers can trace their origins to a Hungarian family, the Nadasdys, one of whom was married to Erszebet Bathory, the Blood Countess. That's why they use the capital S, because they're a race of people, not a type.
Chase Maynord, the hero of Red Heat is a Sorcerer. He also owns a chain of luxury hotels, the Timothy group, which is also very useful for his role with STORM. Now Talents are out in the open, it adds more complications to his situation.
The heroine, Jillian, is something very different and she was hard to write, because I wanted to get into how she felt, what she would do. She had to have a very strong centre, otherwise she wouldn't have survived.
She was in a car accident and the IRDC, (the baddies) used it to operate on her and brainwash her. The combination of techniques make her believe she's someone else, the other person in the car accident. They do it because they want Chase and they know a Sorcerer isn't going to be fooled by an imitation, however good. (I wouldn't consider this a spoiler because it's all in the first couple of chapters).
So Chase is faced with a dilemma. He wants to keep Jillian, and he needs to bring her memory back. Jillian has to decide whose side she is on and who she really is.
I had to work hard on this one, but I think I got it to work.

Also out later in August is the next Richard and Rose book. "Harley Street" is the last Richard and Rose book that was previously published. It's been heavily rewritten and re-edited, so I'd love to know what people think of it. Better or worse than the previous versions?
In this one, Richard and Rose go to London, ready to create a life for themselves, something they can call "normal." Rose is being pressurised to create the next Southwood heir, not by Richard but by his parents, and Richard's past returns to bite him in the butt. Badly.

After that, we go into the two written but never published books and the one I haven't written yet, but have planned.

And on a personal note - this is the month when my life changed, in a way. The whole ground floor of our house has been ripped out and redesigned. New floors, new furniture, new bookshelves. Like many people, we put up with things while the children were growing up, too tired or too lethargic or too distracted by more important things to sort it out, but this summer we decided to take the plunge. I'm sitting in a room which is at present bare floorboards, but the boards are stained and polished and the rug is outside waiting to be renovated before it comes back in. At least one part of the old house remains, if gussied up to within an inch of its life.
So I went on the netbook for a while, and thanks and blessings to Ikea for their Dave computer table. Portable, convenient - brilliant. Sometimes it's worth taking a 5 mile hike around the Ikea store looking for something in particular and getting sidelined by lights, boxes and sofas - or is that just me?

Excerpt

"Red Heat" this month. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Of all the hotels in New York, she has to walk into his.
Ever since Chase Maynord lost the love of his life in a car crash, he’s used her name as a password for STORM agents at his luxury hotel. So when someone registers as Jillian Miller, he assumes it’s business as usual.
But it’s not. Jillian returns to him and their lust burns up the sheets. Only she thinks she’s someone else, her memory destroyed by their mutual enemy. Chase wants her back and he’ll do anything to get her.
Jillian’s mission is to deliver Chase to the IRDC, enemy to Talents. But, stunned by her hunger for him, she doesn’t know whose side she’s on any more.
The old Jillian loved exhibiting herself to an appreciative audience so Chase takes her somewhere he can indulge her every desire. He prays that her old passion for making love in public will restore her to him.
She has to come back to him soon, or they’re both dead. And he won’t let her die alone.

Caroline’s heart pounded double time as she stepped through the huge glass doors of the New York flagship hotel of the Timothy group. Not for the first time she doubted she could accomplish her mission but she’d rehearsed this part so many times, she could have done it in her sleep.

One of the premier hotels in New York, the Timothy was imposing enough from the outside but the entrance hall staggered her, even though she’d seen pictures of it before. The reality was so much more.

Taste and opulence combined to create one of the most admired interiors in the city. Crystal drops spiraled down from the central chandelier high above, like a static waterfall, spreading sparkles of fractured color over the cream marble floor. Dark mahogany and brass fittings emphasized the sparkle.

In one of the most expensive areas of real estate in the world, this space stated its disdain for mere money. Except that was a double bluff, because the cost of a suite here for a night would keep an average American family for a month.

She tried to despise the kind of lifestyle that required this level of display but she couldn’t quite make it. She wanted to call it vulgar but it wasn’t. She wanted to condemn it but walking into the space lifted her spirits.

A shame the owner was a Talent who refused to share his gifts with mankind for the common good. Caroline was here to persuade him to change his mind. Not that he knew that yet.

This beautiful place served as nothing but a façade for deception. Because this world-famous hotel was a center for beings calling themselves Talents, who didn’t care if humans lived or died and refused to share their gifts with mankind.

And she was the first line of attack.

She had to remember that her name wasn’t Caroline but Jillian. For this mission, her name was Jillian. If she thought of herself as Caroline, she’d make a slip, so from her entrance through the great glass doors, she had to become Jillian. She repeated the name in her mind, sinking into the role as her trainers had taught her. Posing as his lost love, with extensive plastic surgery aiding her masquerade, she would do what nobody else had managed to achieve. The organization that had sent her today, the IRDC, the International Research and Development Clinic, needed Talents to help, otherwise the organization couldn’t distill the precious essences of what made Talents so special. Only Talents like shape-shifters, vampires and Sorcerers had gifts like longevity, strength, the ability to shift form, and to flash from place to place instantly.

This Talent was a Sorcerer, descended from a race of people originating in Hungary, people with incredible powers of the mind, telepathy in particular. Talents claimed that everyone could use a certain amount of telepathy, that everyone was born with it but developed a strong shield that few pierced in their lifetimes. The IRDC believed a shortcut to the ability would come if Talents allowed experiments and study. Talents constantly refused to allow the IRDC access, paranoid in their refusals. Now that Talents had come out of their particular closet and faced the light of day, it should have been easier to persuade them. No such luck. So here she was. On a mission, if not from God, then from the IRDC.

People stood at the checkout desk and three bellboys pushed laden luggage trolleys across the floor. The information desk was clear, so she walked up to it, each subdued tap of her shoes on the cold marble ticking the countdown to her fate.

The staff at the desks wore dark business suits that were only recognizable as a uniform by the T monogram on the lapel, so distinctively the Timothy that the hotel had made the letter into a brand, even trademarked the custom designed font. You could buy towels and robes with its distinctive flourish. As the advertisements in the glossies said, “We sell them to you so you don’t have to steal them.” She’d bet the guests still stole them, just for kicks.

The man at the desk, who wore a badge with his name, Malcolm, gave her a professional smile but his eyes didn’t quite meet hers. Some of the guests here wouldn’t like eye contact. It made Jillian feel even more isolated. “May I help you, ma’am?”

“I-I don’t have a reservation.” She watched the smile melt away. “But I wondered if room 139B was available?” Did Malcolm’s eyes widen just a fraction? “My name’s Jillian Miller.”

Oh yes, they had. He glanced down. “We are very busy,” he looked up at her, sharp eyes assessing, “but I believe that room is free. I’ll make a note and get someone to take you up.”

She was on the brink of saying she’d find her own way but a bellboy stood at her side as soon as Malcolm raised a finger. She took the keycard Malcolm handed her and signed the register. Only on her way to the elevators did she realize that he’d forgotten to ask for her credit card. She’d just given the code word, a mixture of her assumed name, Jillian Miller, and the number of the room, 139B. Maybe credit cards were irrelevant.

In the elevator, the bellboy passed a card through the base of the control panel instead of hitting a button. And where there should have been a button for the thirteenth floor, the one she wanted, there was only a brass dummy button. Nobody would think anything of that because superstitious people wouldn’t book rooms on the thirteenth floor, so many hotels just skipped it. It seemed they’d put it to use in the Timothy.

The elevator had an old-world feel, with art deco grilles over obsidian marble. Very classy. “Ma’am, if you swipe your keycard, it will take you directly to your floor,” the bellboy said in a voice as dark as chocolate. He was larger than the average bellboy too, his muscles clearly evident through his maroon uniform. She hadn’t known they made bellhop uniforms that big.

It was really happening. This was for real. All the way here she’d fought to persuade herself that her handlers at the IRDC trusted her with this operation and finally she believed it.

When they arrived and the doors slid silently open the bellhop stopped her leaving the elevator. “You see that painting?” He indicated a distinctive watercolor of a landscape hanging on the wall directly opposite.

“Yes.”

“There are copies opposite every elevator door and they tell you you’re on the right floor. The same watercolor, the same view. It works as a double check. Come this way, ma’am.”

She followed the man, who pulled her wheeled case, until they reached a door at the end. He took her keycard, swiped it through and she watched a unit slide out from the wall. The bellhop stood aside. “Press your left forefinger on the pad and look into the viewer. It will register your fingerprint and your iris print.”

Jillian bent and peered into the eyepiece and put her finger on the pad. A click, a blinding flash of light and the unit silently slid away. The door opened and Jillian caught her breath.

The door opened straight on to a huge room. Huge for a hotel, especially a hotel in New York. Sure, the Timothy was five star, one of the city’s best, and it provided a temporary home for celebrities and millionaires but still—Jillian couldn’t remember ever being inside anything this luxurious.

A queen-sized bed dominated one end of the room, the deep red draperies above it caught back on gilt hooks. The colors of deep red and cream, enhanced by glints of gold and clear crystal sparkled in the autumn sunshine. Everything spoke of luxury and the people born to expect it.

Not this girl, Caroline Cross from the boondocks. And that was the very last time she’d think of herself as Caroline. No more. Jillian Miller was Chase Maynord’s old flame, the woman he thought was dead, and she was more than used to rooms like this.

* * * * *

Chase ruthlessly dragged his mind back to the meeting, a discussion of the conferences scheduled for the next six months. He’d allowed a new consulting group to review the situation and make recommendations and now he heartily wished he hadn’t. The Timothy group got its bread-and-butter from conferences, as did most big hotel groups. The luxury traffic paid well as did the income from the honeymooners and ordinary rich folks but the conferences saved on administrative costs. The price they charged for the conference rooms more than paid for the reduced prices of the guest rooms.

Just as this person was telling him. Dressed in a good quality off-the-peg suit, the young man, fresh from Harvard, with all the arrogance of the newly qualified MBA, continued to tell him how to run his business. So far they’d told him nothing he didn’t already know. He wondered how much longer he could stay awake. A waste of time.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and although he’d told them emergencies only, he sighed in relief. Breaking up another fight between a “happily married” celebrity couple, even arranging for a B-list couple to move out of a suite so an A-list couple could move in, anything would be better than this.

The young man didn’t stop in his flow as Chase drew out his cell phone, switching off the blinker as he did so. He touched the screen and read the message. “Jillian Miller checked in to 139B.”

“Shit!” He shot to his feet and headed for the door, only then turning around with his customary charming smile, facing the row of shocked people at the conference table. Perhaps only that news would have jolted him from his usual suave calm. He turned his attention to the young man at the table’s head and shrugged. “I’m very sorry. I can’t ignore this emergency. May we re-convene?” And next time, he’d send one of his deputies. No way would this fucking pompous ass take any more of his time.

He couldn’t even remember the man’s name but to do him justice, the youth gave him a bright smile. “Sure. But we’ve dealt with most of it. I can send you my report first thing in the morning.”

“Fine.” Chase remembered to bestow another smile and add, “It was nice to meet you. You’re doing great,” before he left the room. If he’d cared about the guy, he would have stopped to give him some advice, like “cut to the real meat right at the start” or “remember your audience”, but the presentation had been so lackluster he couldn’t work up the interest to do it.

Outside the room, where there was no one to see him, he leaned against the wall, put his head back and took several deep breaths to calm his racing heart. Every time Jillian’s name came up, he felt this way, adrenaline rising, heart rate quickening and breath shortening. Three years and still he felt this way. Even watching a Talent on TV didn’t affect him like this.

But it would be another agent from STORM, not Jillian. Jillian was dead. He ran the safe house or more accurately, the safe floor, in her memory. That was why he used her name as part of the code. It hurt to think of her but he never wanted to forget.

He took a moment to remember her laughter, the way she leaned against him to cop a feel at the most inappropriate times, her eyes flashing with delight when he responded with outrage or shock. Her smoky gray eyes had dominated her piquant face, her near-black hair provided a frame for her pale skin, almost vampire-like in its clear, transparent pallor.

It helped to think of her but when he remembered the car crash that had ended her life the familiar grief descended on him—a black cloud that never faded, never eased up however much he invoked it, like poking his tongue into an aching tooth to see if it hurt any less. It never did.

But life went on and right now a STORM agent needed him. Chase straightened up, pulled his jacket straight and headed for the elevators.

Red Heat from Ellora's Cave
Of all the hotels in all the world, she had to walk into his...
Order Page: http://www.ellorascave.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419922435


Where to find Lynne Connolly and her Books

My website
The hub of everything I do. It's updated regularly, with excerpts, short stories and other goodies:
http://www.lynneconnolly.com

My newsletter and yahoo group.
Members get a monthly newsletter, where the news ALWAYS breaks first, and new excerpts are aired. There is also a free book, currently being serialised, but it will be available in the Files for new members, when we've finished.
To join, go here:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/LynneConnolly/
or send an email here:
LynneConnolly-subscribe@yahoogroups.com

UK Historical romance blog:
http://historicalromanceuk.blogspot.com/

My personal blog, which is shamefully out of date:
http://lynneconnolly.blogspot.com/

The Mavens of the Pen blog:
http://mavensofthepen.blogspot.com/

I currently write for Samhain Publishing, Ellora's Cave and Loose-Id. So you can find me on their loops and on their websites.

I write columns for Sybil at The Good, The Bad and The Unread:
http://tinyurl.com/6j42ut

And my email is lynneconnollyuk@yahoo.co.uk


Lynne Connolly, author of Dark and Provocative Romance
http://www.lynneconnolly.com

New Release - Red Alert

Red Alert - the first in a new series of paranormal romantica.

When a dragon flies over Central Park, he jolts the world into awareness. Shape-shifters and vampires finally reveal their existence, and people show their fangs, wings and claws to their neighbors. But exposure doesn’t deter old enemies.
Megan meets Sandro at the lowest time of her life – when she thinks her crazy nightmares are symptoms of the tumor that is killing her. But the sexy dragon shape-shifter tells her the dreams are telepathic messages from his missing brother Ricardo. More than telepathy flares between them. Megan and Sandro burn up the night with sizzling passion, but Sandro won’t commit, and Megan wants more than a fling.
When Sandro rescues Megan from Ricardo’s captors she gives him the key to locate his brother, but he wants far more from the sexy archivist. He wants her body, all ways, all day, all night.
But this is his last case for the STORM agency and he knows he can’t promise Megan any kind of forever.

(Cover art by Seneca)



Excerpt:

A blast of bright light made Megan open her eyes.

The dragon soared up toward the higher buildings before straightening out his flight. Then it grew larger, just as it said it would. She found herself sitting between the great wings of a beast that until a few months ago was supposed to be only a legend. Well here it was. A real live dragon.

It was maybe ten feet from head to tail, covered in blue-green scales, dry and warm, not slimy as she’d imagined when she’d seen one on the TV. Its broad back gave her good purchase, if she lowered her body so she lay on her bag, the remnants of his jacket and the manila envelope holding her scan results. Wind whipped past them and she spread her hands over the thick neck, clutching the folds of skin she found there. “Holy shit!”

Hold on tight. We’re not going far.

“Yeah.”

And by the way, dragon or man, I’m always masculine. Never an “it”. Amusement rather than irritation colored his inner voice. Dark, smoky, sexy. And yes, very masculine.

That’s better.

Can you tell everything I’m thinking?

No. Only your outer thoughts. I could go deeper but it would hurt you. We try not to pry.

My, you are civilized.

You have no idea, was his bitingly sarcastic reply.

This was a hell of a way to find out she wasn’t afraid of heights.

They were higher now. He kept to about thirtieth-floor level, as far as she could guess. He headed for the heart of Manhattan. The oasis of Central Park sprawled below them, the lush green punctuated by sharp flashes as people took photos. Despite her fatigue, a sense of elation rose in her, purely from the flight. “We’ll be on the news. Will they be able to make out my face?”

Try to speak telepathically. I can hear you better like that when we’re airborne. No they won’t make out your face, my body should obscure it. I’ll just make sure.

A warm, soft feeling enveloped them, enclosing her in an unseen envelope, like atmospheric pressure around a plane. “What did you do?”

Fuzzed. Put a mental shield around us, so people see what they expect to see, not what’s really here. How do you think we kept ourselves secret for so long?

New York looked different from the air but it was still the city Megan had fallen in love with the minute she stepped off the shuttle bus from the airport. Today was a cold, fresh spring day with a crisp blue sky, one of the best.

Where are you taking me?

To a parking garage. Then home.

My home?

Mine.

He descended so smoothly she hardly noticed until the flat, car-strewn rooftop loomed up under his great clawed feet. He extended them and landed as gently as an experienced pilot. Smoother.

She stayed on his back. The roof appeared to waver, and only then did vertigo hit. Closing her eyes, Megan willed her stomach to behave until she felt the movement cease.

You can get off me now.

Megan opened her eyes and found the ground a mere three feet away. After grabbing the jacket, bag and folder, she extended her legs down one side of the scaly body and slid down to the blessedly solid ground. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, sheer relief pouring through her.

“You did well.”

The deep, masculine voice sounded just like the one in her head. And a little like the one that cried out to her in her dreams. Shivering a little, she opened her eyes and confronted a tall, strong man. A tall, strong, completely nude man with a ripped body.

Although she tried really hard not to look down for, oh, perhaps a whole second, she couldn’t resist any longer than that. Her gaze traveled down the broad chest, liberally sprinkled with curly black hair, the join-the-dots line from navel down to—oh yes.

Long, strong and semi-erect. Semi-erect? Startled, she jerked her attention up to his face, blinking.

He gave her a devastatingly wicked smile and took the two steps that separated them. “I can’t lie to you when I’m naked, can I?”

“What, the violence turns you on? Or is it the transformation?” she managed, weak but still fighting. She badly wanted to go to him and just be held, be told it was all right, this was all a dream. But it wasn’t.

“No, it was the lush brunette who’s just spent the last twenty minutes snuggled against my back.” He smiled wryly, a warm, genuine smile, so very different from the ones Dr. Jones had flashed at her a short time before. “I felt your body against my back, the way your breasts pressed against me and your crotch pushed me. That’ll do it every time.”

“You don’t even know my name. It’s Megan. Megan Armstrong.”

“Well, Megan Armstrong, let me claim my reward for rescuing you.”

Before she could step back, his arms went around her, pressing her close, and his mouth settled on hers.

Oh but he tasted delicious. Of warmth and strength and pure, rampant male. She relaxed and let him support her weight. She hadn’t allowed herself any weaknesses for years but at the end of her rope, it felt so good to be held. This man took what he wanted and what he wanted, she gave.

Red Alert from Ellora's Cave
Dragons save the World!
Order Page: http://www.jasminejade.com/p-7065-red-alert.aspx
ISBN: 9781419920639