I have a weird brain that memorizes song lyrics without me even knowing it.  And they pop up at the strangest times.  Did you get this one? Here’s a video with sound and lyrics.

This song was apt, though, because I write of otherworldly things.  So, please allow me to introduce myself and my world of kick-ass women and sexy Alpha males–vampires and werewolves and who knows what else?  But let’s start with the vampires …

Several years ago, I decided I didn’t like what was happening to vampires in the current genre literature, both paranormal romance and urban fantasy. They were being turned into sensitive guys who drove Volvos (a Volvo? Really?), who hated what they were and only drank blood (ewww) because they had to. They were full of angst and torment and wanted only to do good.  Ick.

So I decided to write about the real vampires, creatures who had ascended to the top of the food chain through blood and violence and who reveled in what they’d become, building empires that spanned human generations and living according to their own rules and no one else’s. My vampires are lethal predators–deadly, aggressive, territorial and, of course, sexy as hell.

In my world, the vampire hierarchy centers around the Vampire Lords. These very few and all-powerful vampires hold the lives of every vampire within their domain. No vampire exists but that he (or she) is beholden to one of the Lords or is powerful enough to be a Lord in his own right. In all of North America, there are only eight Vampire Lords, each controlling a separate territory with rigidly maintained boundaries. The Vampire Lords are fiercely competitive with one another and tolerate no trespassing.

Each of the books in my series, Vampires in America, focuses on one of the territories and its Lord. The first book, RAPHAEL, introduces the Lord of the Western Territory. Raphael is almost 500 years old and controls the largest of the eight North American territories. He is scarily powerful, possibly the most powerful vampire alive. When someone near and dear to him is kidnapped, Raphael hires a human investigator Cynthia Leighton, to track down the human kidnappers.

And the rest as they say, is history.

Book Two continues the story of Raphael and Cyn, but with the introduction of JABRIL Karim, a vampire who values no life but his own, who enslaves those he desires, steals whatever he covets and destroys anyone who stands in his way. When he sets his sights on Cyn, he crosses a line which can only end in someone’s death.

And my newest book is RAJMUND, Book Three of the Vampires in America series. Due out from ImaJinn Books on July 30th, it introduces Rajmund (RYE-mund) Gregor. Rajmund is a younger and more modern vampire as compared to Raphael. He is the Master of Manhattan, New York, which he controls on behalf of his Sire, Krystof Sapieha, who is Lord of the Northeastern Territory. Krystof is very old. Too old. He is going slowly mad and the territory is crumbling around him. Power in the vampire world rarely passes without violence.  Of all Krystof’s vampire children, only Rajmund is powerful enough to destroy his Sire and seize the territory for himself.  But first, there is the matter of some missing women and the human police who suspect their disappearances are the work of a vampire.

And that leaves my werewolves. This is a new series for me. Just released from Siren Publishing, HEART OF THE WOLF introduces the universe of my wolves with the story of Renjiro Roesner and Kathryn Avinger.

Kathryn is the daughter of the North American Alpha. Young, beautiful and obedient, Kathryn was married off at the age of eighteen to a much older and wealthy human, finding herself neatly trapped in an abusive prison of money and privilege.

Renjiro is a powerful and charismatic wolf, an enforcer for Kathryn’s father and, once upon a time, Kathryn’s promised husband. Returning from a mission to find Kathryn married and gone, Ren left the country, bitter and betrayed. But when someone tries to murder Kathryn at her husband’s funeral, Ren comes home to protect the only woman he ever loved.

What’s next in my world? I don’t know for sure.

But I’m thinking . . . demons.

Visit me at http://dbreynolds.wordpress.com for free Vampire Vignettes, contests and more.

See you in August!

DBR

I’m excited and delighted to announce the release of my first fairy story, a hot piece with a killer cover: Secrets of the Solstice Sacrifice!

Secrets of the Solstice Sacrifice

By: Giselle Renarde

Published By: loveyoudivine

ISBN # 9781600544927

http://tiny.cc/cypm4

Professor Selyf is a fay magical, a solitary academic who lives near the mythical village of Gwyllion on a Welsh hillside. When a knock at the door interrupts him from his manuscript, he curses the intruders—until he gets a look at them! The ginger boy, Bedwyn, he doesn’t much care for, but Trysta, his beautiful cara, awakens Selyf’s heart and the sleeping serpent within.

Trysta has a “female problem,” as Bedwyn puts it, and needs the professor’s audience. She and Bedwyn are mixed-bloods–half human, half fay. When Trysta’s mother conceived her, she wished for a little girl. The fae have a unique ability to select their children’s genders with simple wishes, but since Trysta’s system contained “stagnant” human blood, the wish only half succeeded. Trysta was born a girl with one particular boy part.

Bedwyn doesn’t know the true nature of Trysta’s “female problem,” and she asks Selyf to help her resolve it so she can finally share her body with her caru. As a guest in Selyf’s home, Trysta grows as attracted to the professor’s magical intellect as he is to her beauty. The desire to give in to temptation mounts, particularly when Selyf realizes the only way to resolve Trysta’s problem involves a sexual sacrifice on the solstice.

Excerpt:

He knew she’d return. He sensed it in her look of longing as she left
for dinner with that stupid sod of a caru. “You’re here for my bed, I
presume?” Selyf said as she slipped in the door. Her eyes revealed
everything she longed to say, but he understood her restriction. “Will
you sit with me?” he asked, beckoning her into the chair by his desk.

Gazing into the empty seat, she shook her head. “I should not have
come,” she said with a look of apprehension in her conflicted eyes.
Slipping her bag from her shoulder, she sat in the chair. “You should
know you represent a distinct temptation for me.”

Selyf was not easily scandalized, but her bold admission took his breath
away. “As do you, for me,” he admitted. “But you needn’t fear me, Fay
Trysta. I have spent all my adult life as a solitary magical. I know
denial and self-sacrifice only too well. You are safe here in my home.”

With tears in her eyes, she nodded. For a moment, she looked as though
she might speak, but then said nothing. As she rose from her chair, she
finally blurted, “What if I don’t want to be safe anymore?”

He only stammered, with no response at hand.

“You speak of denial?” she went on. “What do you think my life has
consisted of up until now? At my age, I have yet to experience the
pleasures of the flesh. In the village, I must pretend to be exactly
what I seem, and why? Because only my mother, her mid-wife, and I can
know the truth. You have no idea the trust I’ve put in you, Professor
Selyf. You hold my very life in your hands.”

“I hold your life,” he repeated, rushing around his desk to meet her.
“Why may I not hold your body as well?”

Slipping past him, she hurried to the window, mumbling, “Bedwyn.” Just
as Selyf’s heart began to plummet, she continued, “He mustn’t see.”
Ensuring the curtains were fully closed, she walked to him like a vixen
on the hunt. Her eyes burned like roaring embers as they explored the
lengths of his body. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she ensnared him
in a kiss the likes of which he’d never imagined. He felt her veiled
passion course through his veins as his mouth melded with hers. Their
tongues fluttered and surged one against the other. His whole body was
so rapt with hers he could hardly breathe. As they kissed, he ran
intrepid fingers through her silken hair and down her back. In turn, she
held his cheeks and his neck, his back and his sides. When he grasped
the firm flesh of her buttocks, Trysta wheezed and broke free.

The look in her eyes was indiscernible but for the temptation they
aroused. He almost apologized for being so dreadfully forward before
realizing it was she who’d kissed him. Grabbing her wrists, he pulled
her into his arms and carried forth the sweet embrace she’d abandoned.
After a moment of brave indecision, she gave in to the kiss and melted
in Selyf’s arms. His tongue wrangled hers until she broke away once
more. Pressing her soft lips to his ear, she whispered, “I’ve never felt
like this before.”

“Neither have I,” he admitted. “You’ve aroused in me the sleeping
serpent.”

At that turn of phrase, her body grew limp in his arms. “Yes,” she said.
“I know only too well what you mean.”

Buy Now! http://tiny.cc/cypm4

Hugs,

Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!

http://freewebs.com/gisellerenarde/

http://donutsdesires.blogspot.com

http://twitter.com/GiselleRenarde

http://audreyandlawrence.viviti.com/

SPRING FEVER is a love story. I wrote it a few years ago, before my girlfriend Sweet and I started dating. I knew her as a “him” back then–an effeminate, quirky guy who attracted my attention, though I couldn’t quite figure out why. It was a long while before Sweet came out to me as a MTF transsexual. In the meantime, I wrote SPRING FEVER.

~Blurb~

Dotschy’s in love with a cross dresser. No, not in love. It’s just spring fever. Really it is…

After a rough break up, Dotschy doesn’t want to think about love everlasting. When spring comes around and she can’t stop smiling at Connor the sweet and sensitive semi-closet trans-curious sometimes-cross-dresser, she convinces herself it’s just infatuation. That doesn’t stop her from wanting him though. It doesn’t stop her from getting him either.

~Excerpt~

Connor, dressed as a woman, stood before me in a light pink sweater with pearly plastic buttons down the front. It was the type of sweater a mommy picks out for her little girl. That’s the spirit in which Connor dressed himself. Sure, he had plenty of life experience as a man, but he was a novice female. His skirt was a more mature tweedy grey shot with pink, slit in the back and just covering his knees. Did he shave his legs? I couldn’t tell, what with the pantyhose. His shoes matched his sweater. His nails matched his sweater. Connor pulled off the look beautifully. He looked almost elegant in his black Kiss of the Spider Woman wig. His boobs were generous, but he had a natural paunch to match. Despite his height, he didn’t look curiously tall. He looked perfect, actually. His glasses were the same pair he wore as a man. They suited him both ways.

Soft. That was Connor dressed as a woman. He was soft. Soft pinks, soft body, soft curves. I ran my hand across his cheek. That was soft too. No trace of stubble. Before I arrived at his house, I’d wondered if I would be as attracted to Connor dressed as a woman as I was to Connor dressed as a man. “You look beautiful.” I kissed his smooth cheek, lingering close. Those sparkling blue eyes were Connor. The clothes were different, but the person was the same. I would easily have made out with him, and not just to see if passers-by would throw stuff at us.

“You look fabulous, dear,” he said. His voice lilted, neither high nor low.

“Fabulous?” I chuckled. “Honey, you’re a woman, you’re not gay! Try ‘lovely’ or ‘gorgeous.’”

He leaned in close. Into my ear, he whispered, “Dotschy, you’re gorgeous.”

Audrey and Lawrence are so excited to see all their adventures in a single collection, they’ve created a whole website for it! Okay, so they had a little help from an author friend, but I’m trying to stay humble about my contribution to their great endeavour…LOL

When my girlfriend and I went out for Sunday brunch this weekend, I ordered something I’d never tried before–Eggs Benedict.

“The first of my Audrey and Lawrence stories,” I told her, “starts with a joke about Eggs Benedict.”

She popped a red grape in her mouth. “What’s the joke?”

I didn’t want to tell her, at first. My mind was barraged by images of my past and my bed before she was in it, and I remembered the first time I heard the joke. I was young then, like Audrey. Like Audrey, I welcomed a married man into my apartment every Sunday morning. It was from him I heard this joke.

Excerpt from “Kiss the Cook” by Giselle Renarde,
From Audrey & Lawrence: The Complete Collection

“How are Eggs Benedict like oral sex?”

“I don’t know, Lawrence. How are Eggs Benedict like oral sex?”

“You don’t get either at home,” he chuckled.

My stomach plunged six stories. You don’t get either at home? I guess he meant it as some kind of a veiled compliment, but still…Lawrence wasn’t usually so crass. Even if the insult wasn’t aimed at me, it still hurt to hear him say something so mean-spirited.

“Groan,” I said, pretending to find his joke merely innocuous. Why did I always do that? Pretend to be perpetually un-offended, I mean. Kissing my way across Lawrence’s fleshy abdomen, I nuzzled his pubic hair from top to balls, taking in that quintessentially male aroma of spent cock. Pure sex. Now that was good stuff! What a bad joke, though. So bad I couldn’t relax after the rather incredible blowjob I’d just given him. This time, I had to say something.

“I don’t like it when you criticize your wife,” I confessed, running my fingers through those curly greying hairs.

Shaking his bald but beautiful head like he was scrambling eggs in there, Lawrence looked down at me.

“It’s very unbecoming,” I continued.

 “I don’t know what you mean,” he claimed. He claimed.

 “Eggs Benedict? Look, I know you and…” I tried to say Ruth, but it just wasn’t happening. His wife’s name was the only taboo word in our repertoire. “I know you and she don’t have a satisfying sex life…”

 “It’s not a matter of satisfying or unsatisfying,” Lawrence interrupted. “There is no sex life. It doesn’t exist.”

 The jealousy I’d felt only a moment earlier was eagerly consumed by schadenfreude. I was the only girl for Lawrence. Audrey LeBreton plus Lawrence Galloway equals (heart) 4-ever! At least that’s what I chose to believe.

As I poked my egg to release a runny yoke into its base of toasted baguette and Swiss, I pushed my past aside and looked into the face of my future. Sweet smiled. When I’d told her the Eggs Benedict joke, she was quiet for a moment. And then she laughed and said, “That’s true.”

Should I take that as a joke?

Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
www.gisellerenarde.webs.com

Find out more about Audrey & Lawrence: The Complete Collection at the Audrey & Lawrence website! Audrey & Lawrence is available now for pre-order, and for purchase March 28th, 2010 from eXcessica Publishing.

That’s right! THE BIRTHDAY GIFT by Giselle Renarde just won’t quit being popular! Many e-books enjoy a burst of popularity when they first hit the market, and then sales and awareness dwindle. THE BIRTHDAY GIFT is different. Even after a few fine years on the e-book market, it’s as much in demand as ever!

Why do readers enjoy THE BIRTHDAY GIFT ? One reader told me “it has something for everyone” because, as an MMFF menage story, there’s gay male, lesbian, and hetero naughtiness. Another reader calls THE BIRTHDAY GIFT “A Must Read!” Me? I like the surprise ending. I go for that sort of thing. Oh, and the cover is g-g-g-gorgeous!

What’s it all about? Read on

Meredith is a cake-baking, apron-wearing small-town Canadian mom. Her
guiding principle in life is, “What would June Cleaver do?” That is,
until a curious set of circumstances cause her to crash an outdoor
gathering where she stumbles upon a pair of delicious hunks getting a
little hands-on with each other. Surely June Cleaver would have headed
for the hills at the sight! Not Meredith. This relaxed get-together
really heats up when one man’s wife appears on the scene… and encourages
Meredith to join in.

Whew! Hot stuff! But the story’s not over yet. There’s still the
tropical vacation, the confinement in foreign prison, the trial for
freedom… and, hey, where’s Meredith’s husband in all this? It is his birthday, after all…

Intriguing, right? Well, it would be rude of me not to share a spicy excerpt, so here’s tidbit for those of us who love the image of two built guys getting frisky:

Excerpt from THE BIRTHDAY GIFT by Giselle Renarde

As Meredith drew her lids open, her heart nearly stopped.  On a built-in bench at the opposite end of the isolated deck sat Richard and Ash.   No clothes.  Two men—two strangers—naked in Joyce’s backyard.  A flutter of nervous excitement turned Meredith’s body into a battlefield.  Leave!  No, stay.  Watch!  No, go.

But how could she leave when, just a stone’s throw across the deck, Richard’s hard cock surged toward the well-defined muscles of his tight stomach? A tingling sensation culminated at the summit of Meredith’s lower lips when Ash reached over to stroke Richard’s rigid cock.  Was this an unwelcome act?  Apparently not!  Richard’s magnificent hairless chest glimmered with sweat as he swept a hand across Ash’s brawny thigh.  Close your mouth, young lady!  You’ll catch flies.

This must have been a common occurrence, because Joyce didn’t seem surprised in the least.  Meredith tried to be unnerved, offended, angered, upset by the men’s behavior, but it was impossible.  Two gorgeous men lying side-by-side in the summer sun and stroking each others’ rigid shafts?  June Cleaver would have been long gone by now, but Meredith was in awe of the men’s breathtaking bodies, of their surging muscles, of their cocks sparkling with pre-cum.  This was the single sexiest image she’d ever seen.  Richard and Ash didn’t seem to mind her being there, so what was the harm in watching?

A white hand firmly took hold of a thick brown cock while a brown hand slowly jerked off the large white rod.  This act ought to be the new symbol of international peace and brotherhood. Two masculine males pumping each others’ stiff rods was far more stimulating than a simple black hand shaking a white hand.  A warm tingling sensation took over Meredith’s body.

She clutched her fruit platter for fear she’d drop it and send porcelain and mango flying.  Maintain a safe distance.

* * *

Maybe you’ve read THE BIRTHDAY GIFT already.  If you haven’t, why not pick up a copy?  You can buy THE BIRTHDAY GIFT from eXcessica Publishing , All Romance e-books , Amazon , or any respected e-book retailer!

Hugs,

Giselle Renarde

Canada just got hotter!
http://freewebs.com/gisellerenarde/

http://donutsdesires.blogspot.com

Book 3 of The Phoenix Prophecy releases tomorrow on May 3. If you stop by the Liquid Silver SEX Blog on May 4 and comment on my post, you will be entered to win the entire trilogy!

The Phoenix Prophecy tells the tale of four brothers with different mothers and the same father. Other than the twin werewolves, none of the brothers knew of the others’ existence. Their father, a demi-god who is mated to a prophecy dreaming immortal shape-shifting phoenix, discovers that she’s dreamed of him and his death is imminent. Trying to break the prophecy, he kills the women who bore him sons. When that doesn’t work, he sets out to kill his sons.

His mate, the Phoenix, tries to protect the four men as each of them meets their mate. Unable to kill off his sons, the demi-god decides just to off his mate. The four brothers band together in the third book to save each other and the Phoenix from the demi-god’s murderous plans.

Available May 3 at Liquid Silver Books!

Where There’s Smoke, Book Three of The Phoenix Prophecy

Author: Lex Valentine

Cover art: Anne Cain

Genre: Paranormal, M/M

Length: Novella (26,00 words)

Blurb:

A murderous father. A son with a price on his head. Zander’s year-long affair with a mysterious woman ends when she tells him that her abusive mate is the father he’s never known. The woman, a prophecy-dreaming immortal known as the Phoenix, explains that Zander has three brothers and that his father killed their mothers. Now, the Phoenix has dreamt of her mate’s death and Zander’s destiny. Voth is the Phoenix’s successor and Zander’s true mate. The two set out to find Zander’s brothers while eluding the assassins sent after them by Zander’s father. Passion burns hot between them, sealing their fate, as their journey leads them to fulfill the Phoenix’s prophecy.

Excerpt:

“I haven’t figured out yet what you are.”

Zander turned and found Voth standing in the glass slider doorway, a forest green towel wrapped around his lean hips. Behind the placket of his loose gray sweat shorts, Zander’s cock stirred. One of Voth’s brows rose and his mouth twitched into an amused smile.

“I am Vasherion. I thought I mentioned that last night.” He lifted his mug to his lips and sipped the fragrant brew.

One muscled shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I knew your mother was a Vashon priestess. Until you mentioned it last night, I didn’t realize she’d trained you in the ways of a priest,” Voth replied, his eyes somber.

Zander turned and leaned back on the wood rail. “When my mother was killed I was asked to sit as Zushen, the right hand to the Vashonne, the highest priestess. I would have been the highest ranking male.” His eyes met Voth’s. “But somehow I knew it was time for me to leave the clan.”

Voth’s expression remained impassive. “You still haven’t told me what you are.” He paused slightly, then went on, “When you shift, Zander. What are you?”

Zander finished the coffee in his mug and set it carefully on the railing. “Didn’t I say last night? I’m Raven Clan. When I shift, we can fly together, although I’m nothing as glamorous as a phoenix.”

The forest green towel dropped to the floor, and Voth stepped out onto the deck, his nude body bronzed even in the gray of the rainy morning. “Fly with me.”

Zander’s brows rose. “In the bad weather?” he joked.

Voth reached the railing and gripped it with his fingers. Zander suppressed a shudder, remembering what those talented fingers had done to him half the night.

“Don’t tell me a little water bothers your feathers?” Voth’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “I’ll shift first then.”

His shift to phoenix form came so fast that one moment he stood in human form and the next he was the great, golden-brown bird sitting on the deck railing with his long tail sweeping down. Zander smiled and removed his sweat shorts. He concentrated on the magic in his soul that allowed all Vashon to shift.

Zander’s human form shivered. He knew that to Voth, his body appeared as a silvery wraith in the weak light. With a popping sound in his ears, his raven took form. A large, sleek, black bird with a huge curved beak, still with the appearance of a warrior, especially next to the elegant form of the phoenix.

Wings spread, he pushed off the deck railing, knowing without asking that Voth had done the same. Catching a downdraft, he floated toward the shore, letting the wind do all the work for him. Buoyant and filled with a sense of freedom that permeated his soul when he flew in shifted form, Zander opened his mind to his mate, speaking to Voth in thought form.

“This moment is perfect.”

He turned out over the ocean, ignoring the gulls who circled near the shoreline, Voth’s presence just beyond the stretch of his wingtip.

“Really? I thought the moment you came in my mouth last night was perfect.”

Laughter bubbled in Zander’s veins at Voth’s amused thought. “Your idea of a defining moment is somewhat lacking, my mate. When I came in your ass, when I bit your tongue and tasted your blood, when I bound my soul to yours for all eternity through our blood promise… That was a perfect moment.”

Voth flew closer, his brown feathers turning to golden fire in a stray beam of sunlight that speared through the dark clouds. “I cannot deny your words any more than I can deny your body and your heart. I have never experienced pleasure so great before. I have never had such a connection to another being.”

Zander’s eyes tracked Voth’s movements as he flew along the shaft of sunlight. “Not even Nix?”

Voth came up under Zander and the downdraft shifted. Flapping his wings, Zander pushed himself higher.

“Not even Nix. She is like a mother to me, and we have an indefinable connection as bearers of the Phoenix bloodline, but you are what completes me. My soul sings today because I have found you and made you mine.”

A mental chuckle echoed in Zander’s thoughts. “I told you, I’m not your bitch,” he teased.

Voth’s solemn reply–which did not acknowledge Zander’s joke–illustrated the reflective path of his emotions. “No. You’re not. You are my destiny and the basis for my happiness.”

Elation skittered along Zander’s nerve endings. “So philosophical for an early morning.”

Voth turned back the way they had come, and Zander turned with him. Their thoughts became more sober as they flew above the treetops, crossing over the twisting road that led to Zander’s house.

“The philosophical thoughts are a precursor to planning. You know that we must begin our journey to find your brothers. I can’t even begin to think that this will be easy. Ancelin wants you dead. If he has not made a move yet, it is imminent.”

“What do you mean, yet?”

Voth drifted closer. “There have been no close calls? Little accidents? Near misses? Strange coincidences? Things you might not normally think of as an attempt on your life?”

Uneasiness replaced the elation he’d felt. “No. Nothing like that. I’m a warrior. Anything like that would be evident to me. By nature, I am more suspicious than most.”

“He must know where you are. You’ve taken no care to hide yourself. But he is biding his time until first strike.”

Zander’s house came into view. “He won’t show his hand yet. He will send minions in the hope that I am weak enough to be taken out by them. He won’t dirty his hands unless he has to.”

“That is true enough.”

They turned as one toward the back deck of the house, and Zander’s heightened senses picked up Voth’s worry. They landed, shifted, and Voth instantly sprang across the deck. Lying on the wide wooden railing beside Zander’s abandoned coffee cup was a dead raven. Tension filled the air between them.

“A calling card.” Voth’s deep voice held a grim, implacable note.

Zander grimaced. “How can a man with so little imagination be my father?” he grumbled, hoping to dispel some of Voth’s anger.

“Do not joke, Zander,” Voth said tightly. “Your life is in danger.”

“I know. It’s been in danger from the first breath I took, Voth,” Zander pointed out. “Vasherion are often the targets of assassination attempts.”

Voth’s jaw clenched and his expression turned harsh. “This is not clan rivalry. This is Ancelin’s calling card. He is coming for you.”

Zander picked up his shorts and pulled them on. Then he snatched up his coffee cup and ignored the dead raven, heading into the house. “He was always going to come for me,” he said reasonably. He rinsed out his cup in the stainless-steel sink. Turning, he found Voth standing in the middle of the big open kitchen holding the towel he’d been wearing earlier. Desire flickered within him despite the seriousness of the moment.

“No one has been here. The bird was magicked to the deck. I sensed the breach as we approached the house,” he explained. “But whoever sent it has been watching. You, me, us, the house.” Zander shrugged. He’d been under surveillance before.

Voth audibly ground his teeth. “How can you be so blasé about this?”

With a shake of his head, Zander walked past Voth, out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. He opened the closet and began dressing swiftly. “I’m not blasé, just unconcerned with mind games. Trying to make me nervous with stupid calling cards like a dead raven won’t work. I’m Vasherion. They could string you up and threaten to torture you and it would not affect my nerves. I am battle-hardened,” he said matter-of-factly.

A low growl came from Voth. “So it would not affect you if someone tortured me?”

Zander went very still. Semantics meant little to a warrior like himself, but the fine line Voth had just drawn left him balancing on a knife edge where his own words and reactions were being tested. His gaze met Voth’s. The Phoenix’s irises had grown dark with emotion. Zander sank his fingers into the rich, red-brown waves that framed Voth’s handsome face.

Drawing his mate’s head closer, he murmured, “It would affect me, but not in the way that you think. Anyone who threatens my mate signs their own death warrant and appoints me their executioner. But if they think that my care for you will weaken me, they are wrong. It strengthens me and hardens my resolve that should anyone even think to touch you they will draw my very cold, very lethal wrath.”

He forced Voth’s head closer to his until he could take the bigger man’s mouth in a hard, punishing kiss. Heat flared between them, and Voth groaned against Zander’s mouth. Tongues tangled and heat became a bonfire. Chest heaving, Zander broke the kiss and reached for a shoulder holster, strapping it on while he watched Voth with grim determination.

BOOK ONE: DEEPER THAN THE OCEAN BY DEE CARNEY

Blurb:

The life of a merman should be relatively simple, but not for Danyl. His mother’s been murdered, his father’s responsible and now he’s out for blood. Thank the gods, the key to doing so rests in the hands of a beautiful human who is his pleasure to pursue.

Di has hit pay dirt. Years of solo dives on a barely functioning boat has yielded an ancient coin certain to secure her financial future. A chance rescue by a merman knocks her plans awry. Falling for him certainly was never a part of those plans.

Now, the two must depend on each other–extending a little bit of faith, and a whole lot of trust–in a quest for vengeance and their ultimate survival.

Contains: Mixed species coitus

BOOK TWO: PLAYING WOLF BY MINA CARTER

Blurb:

Twin wolves Ryder and Jayce share everything. Their job, their cars, their women. There’s many a woman happy to spend a night or weekend of passion with a couple of handsome bad-boy bounty hunters. But there’s one woman they won’t touch … the woman who sets them on fire like no other.

When Caitlin crashes through the doors of Honey’s bar she sets off a chain reaction that has the twins facing their mother’s death, their long lost father and their deepest desires.

Life will never be the same again, if they survive.

Contains: M/F/M

The newest of my transgender lesbian stories is now available from the TransFix Line at lyd Alterotica!

Leslie Goosemoon the cowgirl used to be Leslie Goosemoon the cowboy, and folks in these parts don’t take kindly to changes.

New to the rodeo experience, Dina doesn’t understand why the biggest star on the circuit is despised by all. When she runs a search on the rodeo champ, it all becomes clear: Leslie Goosemoon the cowgirl used to be Leslie Goosemoon the cowboy, and folks in these parts don’t take too kindly to those people. The town’s intolerable ignorance drives Dina to seek out Leslie at her modest cabin, where desire is sparked by enlightening conversation, dusty jeans, and a refreshing shower in the great outdoors.

Excerpt:
“Leslie? Leslie Goosemoon?” Dina cried, chasing after the rodeo champ. “Wait up, will ya?”

The remarkable rider stopped in her tracks twenty meters ahead, and Dina slowed her gait from a gallop to an amble. It felt like a good five minutes before the mysterious stranger turned her head. Even when she did, the brim of her tawny cowboy hat obscured her eyes until she took it off to wipe dusty sweat from her brow.

“Well?” Leslie Goosemoon prodded.

Dina’s blood ran cold. She wasn’t anticipating such piercing blue eyes on a rough and tumble rider. Her eyes should be brown like the mud spray across her cheek.

“Hi,” Dina began, forgetting why she’d chased her down in the first place.

“Whaddya want?” the rider grumbled, her quick-draw stance keeping Dina at a distance.

“It just seems strange that nobody came to congratulate you. All the other girls in competition have their legions of fans. Here you’re the big winner and you’ve got no one telling you how great you rode today.” Dina tried to sound casual, taking a tentative step forward.

With a shrug, Leslie Goosemoon replied, “Lots of folks on the circuit could do without me.”

“Well, of course they could; if you weren’t around, those other girls might have a chance in hell at winning. Do you always ride like that?”

Another shrug, and a fraction of a smile.

“This is my first time,” Dina went on with a keen smirk. “At a rodeo, I mean.”

“That so?” Leslie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yup.” Silence made Dina nervous, so she filled it. “My roommate’s boyfriend, Rod the Clod, commandeered our TV during the Calgary Stampede last year. I never liked cowboy stuff before that, but when you’re subjected to something night and day…”

“…it grows on you.”

“Exactly. Although, I never did warm up to Rod the Clod.” Dina hesitated, but what the hell. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. “I probably hated him so much because that rat bastard totally crushed my chance to get with Vicky. Hard to make a move with him on the couch twenty-four-seven.”

With a wolfish smile, Leslie gave her a blatant once-over. “You lookin’ to get over Vicky?”

Dina shrugged, meeting her penetrative gaze straight on. Leslie took two steps closer. In one fluid motion, her arm swooped around Dina’s waist and a dusty hand brushed through her hair, firm against her scalp. Those pink lips hovered like Tantalus’ water glass, so close she could nearly sip them.

“Best way to get over someone is to get under someone.”

Buy Leslie Goosemoon Rides Again by Giselle Renarde Now from All Romance ebooks!

Hugs,
Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
http://freewebs.com/gisellerenarde/
http://donutsdesires.blogspot.com

The Wild One

The Wild One by Gail Roarke

Available now from Cobblestone Press.

They always say to write what you know. Well, I’ve been to events like this. So….

Blurb: When Angela and her two closest friends drop in on a hotel sex party, it’s an eye-opening experience. It’s also more than her friends can handle. They don’t stay long.

But Angela isn’t content to continue barhopping with her friends, telling tales about how naughty they were to briefly witness such debauchery. She returns alone to experience the debauchery for herself and discover if it’s as much fun as it seemed.

Excerpt:

Angela crowded close behind Lourdes as she stopped abruptly in front of the hotel room door. Michelle bumped into Angela and giggled nervously. Angela couldn’t blame her. She could feel nervous giggles poised to escape her own lips.

“This is it,” Lourdes said. The glance she gave Angela and Michelle suggested that she wasn’t quite as calm as she’d like them to believe. Nonetheless, Lourdes knocked firmly on the door. Angela could hear the faint sound of conversation through the door. It didn’t sound like a sex party.

The door opened a crack, and a short, redheaded woman peeked out from behind it. She looked them over, and they must have passed inspection because she backed up, opening the door and silently inviting them inside.

Angela followed Lourdes and Michelle into the room. She glanced back as the redhead closed the door behind them. The woman was short, busty and naked. Silver piercings gleamed in her nipples. She noticed Angela’s look. “Hi, I’m Emily.”

“Angela.” She wasn’t sure what to say next. What do you say to a naked woman you’ve just met? A familiar squeal of greeting saved her from having to find out. She turned to see Vicki leap up from a sofa to greet her three newly arrived friends.

“You made it!” Vicki sounded surprised as well as pleased. She’d tried to get them to come to the party with her, but they had turned her down. It was only after spending some time club hopping that Lourdes had suggested taking Vicki up on her offer. Just, you know, to see what a sex party looked like.

Angela had secretly wanted to go all along, but she hadn’t had the nerve to do it. When Lourdes suggested it again, emboldened by alcohol, Angela had agreed that it sounded like fun. Together, they’d convinced Michelle to give it a try.

Vicki had hugged Lourdes, and now she threw herself at Angela. She was wearing a pair of lace panties and nothing else. “Hey, girl,” Vicki said. “I didn’t think you’d show.”

“We almost didn’t.” Angela gave Vicki a quick hug. “But Lourdes insisted.”

“Me? You wanted to too!”

Vicki laughed and turned to greet Michelle with a hug. “Well, you’re here. That’s what counts. Let me introduce you around.”

Angela looked around, taking in the room as Vicki made introductions. It was a fairly standard hotel room. A bathroom just inside the door to the hall, a king-size bed, and a dresser opposite the bed. The dresser was covered with food and drink—a variety of snack foods, dips, a bucket of chicken, several large bottles of soda, a couple of wine bottles, and disposable plates and utensils.

The back of the room, normally occupied by a small writing desk and chair, was crowded with half a dozen chairs obtained from elsewhere. The chairs formed a rough circle, and about half of them were occupied. Three women and one man occupied the conversation circle. None of them wore more than a towel.

The connecting doors to the rooms on either side of this one were propped open. The sounds of sex drifted through a doorway. Angela couldn’t see into there from her position, but she could see into the other room. It contained two large beds, both unoccupied.

“You’ve met Emily,” Vicki said. Emily waved. Vicki named names, but Angela wasn’t listening. It sounded like at least two women were getting fucked next door, and she was intensely curious—and embarrassed to reveal that fact by walking over to the doorway to look.

Vicki took care of that. “And in this room,” she said, pausing in the doorway, “we have the rest of the gang.”

Lourdes, Angela and Michelle all eyed one another for a moment then collectively walked over to join Vicki, who stepped into the next room. They followed. Angela felt her pulse race in anticipation. She’d had sex and even seen some porn. But she’d never seen real people doing it.

Like lesbian erotica?

Me too.  That’s why I write it.  The newest of my new lesbian releases is a great little Torquere Press Sip called WAXING IS FOR PUSSIES.  Best part?  It’s only $1.29!

Claire is a butch dyke who doesn’t go in for all the “girly” stuff. Her girlfriend Billie works at a salon, joyfully painting nails all day. When Billie takes up hot waxing, she asks Claire to be her test subject. She also asks her salon buddy Soo Jin to give her hand. How will Claire and Billie react when Soo Jin takes the request for help as an invitation to play?

Excerpt from WAXING IS FOR PUSSIES:

“Have you ever had a bikini wax?” Billie asked as she ate.

I laughed. “Do I look like someone who gets waxed?”

With a shrug, she said, “I don’t know. You got a pedicure once.”

“From you,” I reminded her. Billie lifted a piece of sushi saturated in soy sauce to her mouth. “I just wanted to meet you. Every time I tried to say hi on the street, I chickened out. I get nervous talking to beautiful girls.”

Billie smiled as she chewed. “Want one?”

I waved away the sushi. “Nah, I already ate, but thanks.”

Shaking her pretty head, she leaned forward to kiss my cheek. I knew she’d left a big red lipstick stain in her wake, but I ignored it for the moment. “Not sushi, sweetie,” she cooed like a crafty little dove. “A bikini wax. Want one?”

Without meaning to, I laughed out loud. There were so many reasons to say no, I didn’t know where to begin. “What, you mean at the salon?” I asked. “Because I’m pretty sure your boss banned me for life.”

“We could do it after hours,” she countered. “I’m a key holder.”

What other excuses could I come up with? “I’ve heard it hurts like hell.”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” she said with a sneaky grin. She spread some wasabi on her sushi and topped it with pickled ginger before setting it in a pool of soy sauce. “You have how many tattoos? I think you can handle a little hot wax.”

Rising from the footstool, she pulled down on the hem of the black cotton dress that served as her uniform. The one last piece of sushi, she left in front of me in its plastic box. I stared at it in displaced awe. After tiptoeing to the door, she turned around and said, “Come down after hours. We’ll have a good time.”

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Thanks for reading!
Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
http://freewebs.com/gisellerenarde/
http://donutsdesires.blogspot.com