Monday, May 4, 2015
Tags Posts tagged with "romance"


Viveca Fox has a very specific vision for how she’d like to be woken up in the morning. What about the other celebs that The French Reporter Jackie Watson interviewed asking, “What is the most romantic way to wake up in the morning?”

Terrell Owens thinks all it takes is the right person to make any morning romantic, and Neil Napier & Paula Jean Hixson seem to have that every day! Then find out the British tradition that Jeffrey & Matthew Postlethwaite both agree is most romantic!

Valentine’s Day is just one lousy day a year! It’s business as usual in the romance department for 364 days and then – BOOM – we’re supposed to suddenly become frantically romantic for 24 hours, cramming in all the love, sex, seduction, chocolate, poetry, snuggling – you name it – into one measly, gone-in-a-flash day.

Well I say no more!

This year, I’m introducing my 69-day Valentine’s Season! Let’s take the pressure off, shall we? It’s absurd to think we could actually make meaningful changes to our intimate lives in one day, one week, or even one month! Sixty-nine days, give or take, is the amount of time it takes to change habits, and create new patterns as a couple. Or, to deepen your self-love to attract the right partner if you’re single.

In my book Neuroloveology, I talk a lot about the many exercises couples and singles can do to change their habits and create new rituals that enrich their lives and give positive energy back to their relationships. I challenge you to try one of these techniques and kick start your Valentine’s season now, and discover how you can make your love life better.

Passion Wheel (couples) / Perspective (singles)

For couples, I encourage you to create your own Passion Wheel. Take a large piece of paper and draw a circle, then divide the circle into 8, 10 or 12 pieces to create a pie chart. Take turns writing a romantic or sexual activity in each ‘pie slice.’ Some examples would be: take a bubble bath together; engage in oral sex, kiss passionately, give or receive a sensual massage etc. Then decide on the number of times you will spin the wheel each week, and stick to it! Ideally every day, but even if you just spin the wheel once week, you will be brought closer together by the mere act of talking about your desires and acting on them.

For singles I recommend starting a gratitude journal to record all the positive things in your life, which ignites an optimistic attitude around you and attracts love. Then, try this exercise from Marelisa Fabrega in her book Daring to Live Life Fully. When something negative happens to you, instead of wallowing, ask yourself these questions: What’s good about this? How can I learn from this? How can I benefit from this? And finally, Is there something about this situation that I can be grateful for? Watch the results pour in.

Loveology Loop (for both couples & singles)

This is a very simple exercise that has powerful results. Couples that I’ve instructed to do this report huge changes in their habits. It’s simply this: identify a trigger in your life (such as the phone ringing around bedtime) that leads to a negative result  (your wife is too tired for sex when you finally get off the phone), and then replace the behavior that the trigger causes (answering the phone) with a new behavior (kissing your wife). It sounds too good to be true – I can hear you saying, “But what if it’s an important call?” – but if you can’t let go of nighttime business calls for a 69-day Valentine’s Season, then you’re not going to have more sex.

For singles, this works the same way. If your trigger is a rejection on an on-line dating site and this causes you to run for the freezer and eat a pint of mint chocolate chip, the result will likely be negative feelings toward yourself and a bummer night. But what if you change that behavior and do something healthy for yourself instead – like going for a walk, or calling a friend – then your result will be positive. It works like a charm.

Mission Statements (for couples & singles)

Successful businesses have mission statements. Why shouldn’t successful couples? Team up and write down your hopes and dreams with your partner. Discover the desires you share, the goals you have in common and the future plans you want to make. This is a fantastic way to re-energize a relationship and get back on the same page.
For singles, do the same thing for yourself. List your goals for your work, romance and fun. Write down what kind of partner you’re looking for, what you plan to bring to the table, and what you expect your partner to bring. Don’t worry, no one but you is going to read this, so have fun with it and don’t sensor yourself.

At the end of your 69-day Valentine’s Season, I predict you will have discovered many new things about your partner. Couples whom I’ve counseled have reported everything from learning their husband loves dancing to discovering their wife’s G-spot. And single people reap tremendous rewards from creating positive habits and practicing gratitude.

Feel free to share with how your Valentine’s Season played out! We’d love to hear from you. And for a special treat, watch this video to see what celebrities are giving and receiving for Valentine’s season!

PRE-ORDER! AVAILABLE: Wednesday, December 24th

This title is offered at a 10% discount. Offer ends midnight CST, December 31st

Merry “Chris” Mas by Clare Dargin

Ménage Amour: Erotic Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, HEA

Jilly Reimers wants love but can’t find it. Chris Spinell is a veteran of the war in Afghanistan who suffers from PTSD and a haunting feeling that something is missing in his life. Chris Poole is also an Afghanistan war veteran is ready to break out of his shell but is unsure how.

With Christmas just around the corner, they decide not to spend it alone. Believing The Love Play Matchmaking Service to be just what they need for a night of fun and passion, they sign up. But when the guys show up and see that they’ve been set up on a menage, the only one happy about it is Jilly.

Their consultant, called an Eros, assures Jilly that the service has a perfect track record but she’s certain they’ll be the first ones to get their money back. Will they have a very merry Christmas? Or will the three spend yet another one alone?

A Siren Erotic Romance


Chris S. slipped her undies over her round hips. They slid down her baby-like skin, exposing her shaved mound. More blood flowed to his dick, making whimper.

“God,” he said, fighting tears.

cd-lpms-merrychrismasThrough gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes, he forced himself to maintain control. It was getting to be damn near impossible. Everything about her was fucking outstanding. Lips, breasts, skin and pussy. He was ready to fill her pussy with his thick, hard dick.

He slid his finger into the folds of her wet interior. The thin crease surrounded by supple labia oozed moisture from her tight and tiny hole. He slid a finger inside her hole, and her taut muscles quivered at his touch.

“You want it?” he asked.

She moaned “yes” before being silenced by the other Chris’s mouth. He inched her legs apart. Moving in just right, he tasted her. Explosions went off in his brain. She was pure, simple, clean and honeyed. He wanted to mark her as his own. Delving his tongue in and out of her tight hole, he held her still, allowing her juices to saturate his mouth.

Lifting her legs, he opened her wider, curling her upward, burying his face in her mound. His breaths increased as his heart rate grew frantic. His hard dick, standing at full scale attention, threatened to bust a nut if he didn’t stop.

Pulling away, he set her down gently. “Got to go get a condom.”

The other Chris looked up, his eyes equally as dazed as he felt.

She swallowed, seeming breathless. “My bag, by the wall.”

The time for being cool had passed. Quicker than he’d wanted and less suave, he dashed toward it, finally seeing the stash. Grabbing the entire lot, along with a bottle of lubricating gel, he opened the box and pulled out two, handing one to Chris and keeping the other for himself. Setting it aside, he removed his shorts, exposing his aching dick to the room’s cool air. He grimaced as he slid the latex over his shaft. It hurt with a pain that would only be relieved by what Jilly had to offer. He squeezed the gel, which had the scent of strawberries, onto his palm. He fisted his hand and soaked his condom-wrapped rod with the smooth, thick liquid. The mere pressure of his hand gave him some relief, albeit short.

“Me first,” he said, climbing onto the bed.

Calming himself, he lay down beside her and turned her on her side. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close. He spread her legs apart as she tilted her pelvis back. She melded her body to his. There was so much of her he wanted, not only her body, but her soul, mind, and yes, even her heart.

He took a hand and placed himself at her entrance. Slowly he pushed inside. He grunted and made himself hold back, lest he spill at that moment.

She was so tight. No doubt about it. This was going to be a short run. Inch by inch, he slid inside of her, stopping at the root. His balls drew in tight. He shifted her close and moved in and out slowly. Each movement became stronger as his control slipped. He needed the release, the kind that would give his aching balls sweet relief. Back and forth his hips moved inside her. She wriggled and moaned in response. Their mouths met briefly, tongues swirling, causing his stomach and heart to flutter. He increased his thrusts. Finding his target, she keened her delight.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Don’t stop.”

She pushed her ass toward him.

“Baby, I’m going to come.”

“Come, honey. Come.”

He grunted, harder and harder. Sliding his hand down to her hard clit, he rubbed it as his panting increased. Pressure built up behind his eyes, his mind went blank as everything in the world seemed to fall away. He couldn’t stop. Harder and harder he pushed, holding her firm and tight.

With light speed, he cried out, “God!” His hips bucked upward while cum poured out of him.

Slightly dizzy, he held onto her before letting her go. “Are you all right?”

Her kiss eased the butterflies threatening to kill the moment. Sliding out of her, he sighed, relieved. He gazed into her eyes. Instantly he felt the completed connection he’d sensed along. She was the one. And he saw that she felt it too.

* * * *

Jilly recovered her breath as Chris P. gathered her up into his arms. His musky scent was so spicy and inviting. She buried her face in the crook between his shoulder and neck. She was ready.

“On your back,” he said, holding her.

She nodded.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he said, whispering in her ear.

From her tall Adonis, she was ready to receive all he gave her. Trust welled up within her heart. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

Placing her on back like she weighed nothing but a feather, he positioned himself on top of her. A lock of his blond hair obscured his face. She opened her legs. She felt his solid, round tip prod her hole. Panting, he pushed inside of her, his raw strength causing her pussy to clench. Each muscle spasmed to accommodate his thick and meaty cock. She cried out along with him. He braced himself.


About Clare Dargin

Clare Dargin is an author of Science Fiction and Romance and has been writing stories all of her life before being published in 2007. She’s a great fan of the two genres and loves promoting them.

An educator by profession, she possesses a Bachelor’s Degree in English from a major mid-western university. She presently resides in the Midwest and she hopes to expand her writings to include non-fiction, historical romance, and contemporary novels.



by -

Allie Campbell is determined to take care of her family, no matter the cost. But when her father loses their home to British tycoon Trevor Blake, Allie finds herself forced to plead for more time to pay off the loan…and if she has to use her own body as collateral, then so be it.

Trevor isn’t moved by Allie’s story. But when Allie impulsively offers to do anything to keep the house, he’s intrigued enough to raise the stakes: for the next two months, she must cater to his every need, no matter how depraved. To his amazement, she agrees.

Allie has no intention of enjoying her time with the arrogant, domineering Brit, but it doesn’t take long before he’s got her aching for his touch-and he’ll do whatever it takes to make her beg…

“Austin, clearly enjoying a change of pace from her more comedic Rose Strickland mystery series, infuses her characters with relatable problems and hot chemistry that will keep readers turning pages.”Publishers Weekly

“…this is an engaging work on a number of levels—the sum total is a novel that is unique, erotic and passionate.”RT Book Reviews, 4 ½ Stars, Top Pick!


He groaned. “You’re killing me, Miss Campbell.” He drew the shorts over her legs and dropped them on the floor.

“We’ve had sex. Can we dispense with the Miss Campbell?” She was winded too. He liked that he’d done that, made her heart pound, made her breathless with his kisses.

His Every Need by Terri L AustinHe grinned. “Maybe I have a naughty nanny fantasy.”

She let go of her viselike hold on his hair and laughed. God, how he loved that sound. She smoothed her hands along the sides of his face, brushed his cheek. “Let’s get you naked too.”

“Marvelous idea.” He leaned back, keeping his knee wedged between her thighs, and with one hand, unbuttoned his shirt. Allie didn’t help him. Instead, she ran her own hands across her breasts and watched as his shirt disappeared.

With great reluctance, he moved away from her to stand. “Do that again. Touch yourself.”

Her eyes on him, she hesitated a moment, then did as he’d asked. Pulling her bottom lip into her mouth, she lightly circled her finger- tips over her nipples. They jutted out, begging for his attention.

Trevor’s gaze didn’t leave her as he found a condom. “More.” He grabbed his cock through his pants, gave it a stroke as he watched her.

She cupped her breasts, then moved her hands lower, with agonizing slowness, down her taut stomach, over her smooth legs. Finally, her fingers danced over the small triangle of blond hair. She let her legs fall open and parted the lips with two fingers, giving him a captivating view of her damp pussy.

He ran a hand over his mouth, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He needed to get control or he’d embarrass himself—that also hadn’t happened since he was fifteen.

After a minute, he opened his eyes and kicked off his shoes, and in seconds was as naked as she. Still touching herself, her gaze flowed over him, taking in his chest, his abs, and stopping at his cock.

He wanted to protest when she moved her hand away from that lovely cunt, but when Allie sat up and balanced on her knees, crooking her finger at him, he closed his mouth. “Come here, English.”

Enthralled, Trevor stepped closer and cupped the back of her head. When she circled both hands around his cock, he groaned. But when she rubbed his tip across her nipple, he almost came on the spot.

“Fuck, Allison.”

“In a minute,” she said with grin.

Reaching out, Trevor squeezed her breasts together and placed his cock between them. God, he’d fantasized about this. Often. The real thing was much better. Allie dropped her hands as he pushed himself between her tits. It was almost more than he could to take.

Allie grabbed his hips. “Self-control. No coming allowed.”

“Ladies first,” he agreed.

As he thrust his hips forward, the tip of his prick poked the bottom of her chin. He pulled back and drove forward once more. This time, Allie lowered her mouth and licked the head. Bloody fucking hell, that felt good. He did it a few more times, but the combination of her mouth, her tits, and watching his cock slide between them was too much.

“I can’t take any more of that, love.” Relinquishing his hold on her breasts, he tore the condom wrapper open with his teeth. After he sheathed himself, he had her on her back in a flash.

Never letting his eyes stray from her face, he cupped her breast, grazing her nipple with his thumb. She arched and dug her short fingernails into the back of his hand. Ah yes, Allie Campbell had very sensitive breasts. He would have to do something about that.

Bending his head, he swirled the tip of his tongue around the areola, denying her what she wanted, licking in smaller circles, nib- bling his way toward the center but never touching it.

“Trevor, please.” She twisted her head and looked at him.

He stopped. “Please what, darling?” He smiled cheerfully. “I hate you.”

He leaned down and nipped the underside of her breast, causing her to gasp. He was dying, wanting to be inside her, but he so liked playing with her. “Please what?” he prompted.

“Suck me, English.”


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Love like this never hurt so good.

New York Times bestselling paranormal author, Nicky—Nick—Love is anything but successful in love. For years he’s lost himself in his writing career, but now he’s ready to get back to his rebel-boy roots. While restoring a motorcycle at Stone’s Auto Service, he meets the Wildcat of his dreams. She’s a shock to the system for the romance writer who doesn’t remember a damn thing about wooing a woman.

Cool-as-ice, Catarina “Wildcat” Steele is utterly untouchable until Nicky ignites a spark she can’t control. Their electric attraction explodes as Nicky pursues her, but he comes bearing the baggage of a family tragedy he’s hidden from everyone. He knows love has no guarantees.

Their passionate romance falls apart when Nicky discovers Cat’s secret rivals his own. The truth about her past reopens Nicky’s raw wounds and awakens a ghost he never laid to rest. He doesn’t know how to have Cat, and now he can’t trust her. Will they be torn apart . . . or tamed by love?

Dec. 11th release day and final 99 cents sale day (regular price $3.99)

This excerpt is for mature readers only.

Excerpt: Love, in the Fast Lane

We flew through the night, roaring out of Mt. Pleasant proper on the way to Awendaw. The traffic lightened. The surrounds dissolved from built-up businesses and subdivisions to miles and miles of forest that became a fast moving blur beside us. The sheer velocity of the ride was as invigorating as the strength in Cat’s thighs clamped between mine. I could just make out the smile on her lips whenever she hit a curve in the road. Her hair lashed wildly back creating the perfect place on her neck for me to nuzzle warm skin. Sitting on the Harley, the engine screaming like a banshee beneath us, there was no better place to be.

THIS IS LOVE FINALWith an echoing roar through the forest, we pulled up in front of my house.

My heart pounded with the thrill of the ride. I slid off the bike and took off my helmet. “Where’d you learn to hammer down like that?”

“Comes with the Steele territory.”

“Like the ink?”

The radiant smile on her face shut down faster than the engine cutting off.


Cat lifted her chin, staring into the night in front of her. I peeled her hands from the handlebars and helped her off the bike. I unstrapped her helmet, placed it beside mine, and brushed my hands through her tangled hair.

“Don’t close me out again, Cat.”

Something snapped inside her. She dragged her teeth across my lower lip and lunged inside. All that passion seething beneath her tight control broke free, and I just happened to be the lucky fucking bastard along for ride.

Getting into the house was nearly impossible. Her body was wrapped around mine, my hands were in her hair, our lips clashed together and slid to suck and bite any bare skin we could find. The steps were a goddamn nightmare, and we hadn’t even made it to the front door.

She laughed breathlessly while I dug out the key from beneath the plant pot. Her hands roamed over my body like living flames, igniting fire everywhere she touched. My arms, my ass, my chest.

The key shook in my hand. It wouldn’t budge when I finally managed to fit it in the freakin’ lock.

Cat’s laugh was brazen as she took a nip of my ear right on the sensitive lobe. “This door stuck too?”

“No. You’re making me fuck up.”

She got right in behind me, and her hand pressed against my thick cock. She curled her fingers around me, and the zipper dug against the fat vein thumping from head to base. I yanked the goddamn key and swallowed a loud groan.

The door burst open. No more messing around. Swinging Cat into my arms, I kicked the door shut. Her legs hiked around my waist and her lips slanted against mine. The stairs were somewhere . . . to the left, the right, right in front of me? Her motorcycle gloves came off with two fat slaps of leather on the floor—splat, splat. My jacket followed.

I tugged at her boots, keeping my handhold on her ass, because if my hands weren’t filled with T & A I wasn’t going to be happy. Her padded leather jacket slid down the banister as we hit the stairs. I yanked at the buttons of her pants, shoving a hand inside, and Cat drummed her heels against my back. Yes. Silken skin, wet slit. Heaven. Straining to walk and carry and kiss and caress at the same time, it was a motherfucking wonder we made it to the bedroom instead of making love in the hallway.

We banged against the wall of my bedroom. The mattress was way too fucking far away. I reached over and clicked on a low light. If I was finally going to have Cat, I wanted to see it all. She tore off my shirt, almost ripping it from my shoulders. Biting my bicep before licking my tat, she unhooked her legs. I jerked off my boots.

Her fingers threaded through my hair, and I groaned. “Fuck. Why aren’t you naked yet?”

I mauled her all the way to my low dresser. I planted her bottom on it and whipped off her skintight pants. Cat’s choppy breath was music to my goddamn ears. Her panties were next. They were a thin, black, sheer piece of nothing. A thong or g-string or some other thing that made my eyes pop out of my head. Before I dove between her thighs to discover her hot cunt, I needed those tits, the piercings, her nipples . . .

Above the waist was easy work. I hooked my thumbs into her top’s hem, rolled it over the rise of her breasts and came eye-to-eye with deep dusky nipples pulled up tight. Long cascading silver jewelry threaded through them. The black tank was the perfect picture frame to her arm-length tats and her magnificent tits. I tapped her nips with my fingertips and watched them bounce in response. More of that was in order with my lips suctioned on.

“Stop,” she commanded.

Fuck. Fuck! Had I gone too far, too fast? As if I could go any slower, Cat was spread out on top of my dresser all but naked and wet and open and . . .

I tore my gaze from her tits.

Her hands pressed me back as her feet slid to the floor. “I want to suck your cock first.”

Hell yeah, what? Yes. Christ. When she dropped to her knees, I shouted, “Cat, fuckin’ hell!”

“I haven’t done anything yet.” Her black hair swung down to her waist. Her husky whiskey voice filled my ears. Her sure hands pulled my leather pants to the top of my thighs.

I had no answer and no response other than panting breath. Cat’s fingers dipped down and cupped me. She lifted out my cock. My shaft rose from her grip at the base and hooked all the way up my stomach.

Pulling my cock level with her face between her two fists, she moaned. Her hot breath hit me long before her mouth did. “So, Nicky Love is hung.”

Dec. 11th release day and final 99 cents sale day (regular price $3.99)

About Rie Warren

Rie-Warren-Headshot-For-ANGSTY-150x150Rie is the badass, sassafras author of Sugar Daddy and the Don’t Tell series–a breakthrough trilogy that crosses traditional publishing boundaries beginning with In His Command. Her latest endeavor, the Carolina Bad Boys series, is fun, hot, and southern-sexy.

A Yankee transplant who has traveled the world, Rie started out a writer—causing her college professor to blush over her erotic poetry without one ounce of shame. Not much has changed. She swapped pen for paintbrushes and followed her other love during her twenties. From art school to marriage to children and many a wild and wonderful journey in between, Rie has come home to her calling.

Rie’s work has been called “edgy”, “daring”, and “some of the sexiest smut around”. Get in touch with her at

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Short Excerpt from The Cowboy Singer by Paula Tiberius

James closed the distance between them and took April’s face in his hands. “I’m so sorry you got hooked up with someone like me. You deserve better.” He kissed her.

April pulled away. “Now wait a minute. That’s not fair. You can’t just say something I completely disagree with and then kiss me like that, as if that’s the final word.”

“Oh, really? Well, what are you going to do about it?”

She gave him a sly smile and then tackled him on the couch. They fell back, giggling. James pinned April’s hands over her head. He kissed her again, and this time her whole body responded. She liked the way he took control of her. It gave her shivers. Her body shuddered as his mouth came up to her ear and he spoke gruffly. “Are you cold?”

“Are you kidding? You set me on fire.”

He kissed her again, this time letting her hands go free. She ran them over his ribs and down to his hips.

“Then why do you have goose bumps?”

April didn’t answer. She slipped her hands around his waist and pulled his hips toward hers. He felt so good pressing against her she almost screamed. Remembering Avery she toned it down to a delicious moan.

“Does that feel good?” James whispered, pushing his hardness against her. She dug her fingers into his jean pockets to pull him closer and keep the good feeling going. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” she found herself repeating. James murmured something into her ear. She wasn’t quite sure what he said, but she was pretty sure it was something about their jeans getting in the way. He rose up on his knees and looked down at her while he unzipped. She loved the way he looked at her. Like lightning was hitting her body. And that rolling thunder voice. This was one storm she was willing to get caught in.

She beckoned him to lean his hips toward her, then surprised him by easing the whole length of him into her mouth. He moaned like she’d never heard him moan before. He sounded almost like he was singing, a low rhythmic growl that made her insides turn to mush. And he tasted so good. But she didn’t want to go too far down that path. She needed him inside her, and he was reading her mind.

He quickly finished undressing them both and asked her if she was comfortable, suggesting they could move to the bed if she wanted to. But she couldn’t wait, which made him smile. So he lay back down on the couch with her and gently spread her legs, looking directly into her eyes while he entered her, slow and smooth. There was a confidence in him that she was positively addicted to. The man knew what he was doing, and it drove her wild.


April Connors figured her love life was on hold indefinitely now that she was about to have a baby while temporarily staying at her grandmother’s house (what a turn-on!). Meeting infamous country singer Jimmy Wick may have made her giant belly flip, but she was filing him under a big “as if.” No man in his right mind would fall for a gal this pregnant, and besides, she needed to focus on herself and the baby. James Warwick (a.k.a. Jimmy Wick) was not in his right mind. His ex-wife was petitioning for full custody of the only thing that made him happy besides playing music, his four-year-old princess, Summer, and the thought of losing her had him crazier than an outhouse rat. His saving grace was his new ‘friend’ April who he was falling head over heels for. The only problem was, April had just been knocked up, dumped and stranded by the last guy she was with and was in no mood to go down that road again. She was hellbent on getting her life back on track just as James was watching his fall apart, leaving them both caught off guard by the unstoppable romance that would sweep them off their feet.

Interview by Sophie Sansregret

  1. I see you’re a filmmaker and musician as well. Which is harder? Composing, Directing? Writing a novel? Is one more rewarding than another? Perhaps a Rock Opera of The Cowboy Singer in your future?

Rock opera! That is a life-long dream of mine, to write a rock opera, stage it, make the movie and then put out the book! I absolutely adore The Phantom of the Paradise and The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Of course it will have to be an epic life and death story with tragic consequences at every turn. I can’t wait. But going back to the first question, my attitude has changed over the years. I used to find writing more difficult whereas directing came naturally. Now I find all the work of putting a production together exhausting. Casting calls, location scouting, pitching people for money – whew! I’m getting tired just thinking about it. But sitting at my desk alone with my words and emotions? Easy! Plus I used to be able to work until wine ‘o’ clock, then enjoy cocktail hour(s) and go to bed. Now I have to be ‘on’ with the kid each evening, so I notice it much more when I have a physically tiring day.

  1. Inspiration comes in many forms and authors are not always inspired just by other writers. Who or what energizes you in your work?

Usually all I need is one good Idea for a fruitful writing session. If I’ve got nothing, I’ll just write nonsense until an idea hits. It doesn’t have to be anything big –  a piece of dialogue or an emotional motivation for a character will do – and then I’m off and running. Other people’s writing rarely inspires me to actually write – it inspires me to curl up in bed – especially if it’s good. Bad writing sometimes inspires me to write, if the subject isn’t being done justice.

  1. What’s your writing practice? Quiet room? Distractions? Loud music? Munchies?

Definitely a quiet room and lots of munchies. I eat constantly when I work. Or maybe it just seems that way because the day is only ever broken up by those treasured trips to the kitchen. If I liked classical music I could probably write with music, but rock and roll with all its lyrics and licks is way too much of a distraction. I also like to neurotically check my e-mail and Twitter, to the point where I have to set time goals – “no Twitter until 2pm…”

  1. As a filmmaker and musician you must be accustomed to working in a group. Was it difficult to write a novel, not having as much interaction? Do you ever write with others or is writing a purely solo venture for you?

I like collaborating with other writers. I have a number of film and TV projects in development with actor / comic Tanya Henley and we work well together. it’s fantastic to hand something off to another writer and have them fix it, finish it, or at the very least come back to you with a whole slew of ideas you’d never even considered. The project takes these giant leaps that are very satisfying.  Although I don’t know that it would work with fiction. I doubt I’ll ever collaborate on a novel. Non-fiction, sure, but there’s something about fiction that is so deeply personal. You have to become the voice of your characters from the inside out, and I’m not sure if that would work by committee. Writing for the screen is different because so much of that intimacy with the character is left up to the performer.

  1. All writers, except the very few (and I don’t know who they are) have to face it at some point. Love it? Hate it? Fuel you up to try try again or crush you like a bug? Or can you shake it off and just move forward?

Are you talking about rejection? What else could you be talking about. Oh boy, it’s everywhere, isn’t it? I’ve certainly faced my fair share. My official policy is absolutely: Shake it off, move forward. Then my unofficial policy is to say things like, “It’s so goddamn easy to be a critic,” or “Critics are so lazy,” or “They didn’t even spell my name right.” There are always those choice reviews that stick with you and you can’t shake them. One reviewer began his rant on my movie Goldirocks (a film about a girl who starts her own band) by saying that I should have made a documentary about Broken Social Scene instead. Seriously, it was so weird and disrespectful. And it still bugs me.

  1. What’s on your reading list these days?

I just found out Ann Patchett wrote a new book without notifying me! How dare she. So I need to get that. Right now I’m reading this hilarious British novel by Susan Alison called White Lies & Custard Cream. I haven’t read anything quite so frantic in a long time. I really like her voice and how she writes with such urgency – it’s addictive.

  1. As a filmmaker you may have scripts which may work well as novels or perhaps novels which work as scripts. Do you have any plans to work a screenplay into a novel, or vice versa? If so, how difficult (and rewarding!) is that process?

Funny you should ask, I am finding out the answer to your question as we speak! I’m novelizing a romantic comedy screenplay of mine that’s working out quite well in the fiction medium. I’ve had to get over that stigma in my head about ‘novelizing’ though. It reminds me of when I was eight years old and bought the novelized version of the movie Grease. Lots of glossy production stills and verbatim dialogue. But it’s actually quite a challenging and fascinating process. You’re constantly making decisions about point of view and which character should be witnessing the events of a scene. With both mediums you can have an omniscient narrator of course, but in fiction there’s no camera. I’ve never been more conscious of the camera as in novelizing a screenplay.

  1. Any thoughts on revising The Cowboy Singer for a different market? There are many romance sub-genres out there. What are your thoughts on issuing variations on your novel? Or is it a fixed work and it’s time to move to the next?

I’m definitely moving on to the next project, although my cousin Anna asked me if I would consider doing a version of The Cowboy Singer without the sex scenes! She really loved the book, but she’s a Mormon and they don’t go in for sex scenes apparently, so she skipped over them. She said she saw the sex coming and ‘skipped three or four pages.’ I was like, “Wow, how long do you think I can keep a sex scene going? You might have missed some important story.” But anyway, I’m still considering that. And my friends at Deambulations are putting out a Spanish version which is very cool. I can’t wait to see what the title translates into!


About Revenge, Sex, and Other Ways to Spice Up Your Life

A man on a mission, a woman out for revenge, and a meddling monkey—life doesn’t get any more interesting than this.

Max Harder broke Callie’s heart when he ended their relationship. Not believing he was man enough for her, he focused on straightening out his life.

Self-esteem now intact, it’s time to win back the woman he can’t get out of his mind.

Callie Wiebe never understood why Max claimed to love her then said he “couldn’t do it anymore.” Unable to move on after the break up, she curses her foolish heart for still loving him. The night he calls to talk, she’s determined to teach him a sexy lesson.

However, there are consequences to spicing up your love life. Callie’s passionate plan of revenge goes awry, and when Max’s pet capuchin throws a “monkey wrench” into the works by falling ill, these lovers end up with far more than they bargained for.


Max opened the door to his apartment, and her heart stopped.

“Hey.” The low, rumbled word of his greeting sent desire skittering through her system. Her heart fluttered, and her nipples puckered. Moisture gathered between her thighs. Damn her body for wanting him, curse her heart for still loving him.

Fortunately, her brain worked fine. This was her attempt to seduce him, her time for revenge. A seductive smile turned up one corner of her mouth. “Hi.”

His green eyes sparkled as his gaze raked her from head to toe, snagging on the sight of her red heels and traveling back up her body, until their eyes locked. Max opened the door wider. “Come in.”

Callie inhaled a fortifying breath, resisting the urge to tousle the soft brown curls tickling his forehead. The scent of vanilla wafted toward her. Candlelight flickered from the living room of his apartment, causing shadows to dance over the walls. She peeked in and saw a bottle of Pinot Noir chilling in an ice bucket. Two crystal wine glasses glinted in the light cast from the candles. A fleece blanket spread on the floor, and an assortment of brightly colored chrysanthemums—her favorite flower—displayed in a vase on an end table. Strawberries and cream in serving bowls sat beside the blanket. An array of massage oils and condoms lined the outer edge of the other side.

He went all out. Fighting the grin attempting to break forth on her face, she swallowed the giddy feeling bubbling in her stomach from his romantic gesture. A few of her favorite things didn’t constitute an apology or an explanation. Besides, if she gave in, what fun would that be? She wouldn’t be able to exact her revenge.

“Can I take your coat?” he asked.

“No.” Callie shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket. The strap of her handbag slipped from her shoulder, and the bag whacked her thigh. A buzzing noise sounded, and Callie quickly dove one hand into the main compartment, finding the off switch to the offending device. Her cheeks burned, but she managed to maintain a normal tone when she spoke. “Nice place you have.”

“Thanks.” Max beamed. “Want a tour?”

Callie glanced into the kitchen to the left. Since the living room was straight ahead, she assumed the door off to the side led to his bedroom. A closet to her right indicated a place to hang jackets.

Fixing her gaze on him, she said, “I think I get the general layout.”

“May I at least take your bag? You are planning on staying a while, aren’t you?”

“For a while,” she said, in a noncommittal tone.

Max cleared his throat, his eyebrows crinkling together in amusement. “Because you came to talk, dressed in sexy red heels, a trench coat, and carrying a vibrating bag.”

An innocent blink accompanied her reply. “Maybe I have a date after. You did call me on a Saturday night.”

The grin slipped from his face, and an awkward silence fell between them. Max’s face scrunched into a grimace before he spoke. “So, if you have a hot date, what are you doing here?”

Good point. Her heart beat in overdrive as she contemplated an answer. Raising her chin in defiance, lest he catch on to her intentions, she figured his assumption she was going out could work in her favor. “You asked to talk, so I suggested I come here on my way to my date.”

Max glanced into the living room, his cheeks aflame. He gestured at his efforts to win her back in his favor. “I guess all of this isn’t necessary.”

I am such a bitch. Callie pursed her lips to keep from spewing her true intentions. After the heartache he’d put her through, he could feel bad for five minutes. Right?

“It’s a nice touch,” she said, her tone soft.

“Callie, I…” He snapped his mouth closed and ran a hand through his close-cropped, chestnut hair. The mischievous sparkle in his eyes dimmed.

Callie caught the growl before it escaped. She had to get this seduction in the works before she chickened out. She was beginning to feel sorry for him, and her soft heart needed to toughen up.

In an authoritative tone, she said, “Max, take a chair from the kitchen and put it in the living room beside the blanket.”

One of his eyebrows rose in confusion.

“Do it,” she commanded. “Now.” She snapped her fingers to get him to move.

Muttering, Max did as instructed, then stood in bewilderment.

Callie walked into the room and dropped her handbag to the floor. Hands on hips, she stood in a wide stance, chest out, chin raised. “Strip.”

Available as an ebook from Secret Cravings Publishing.

About Kellie Kamryn

By day, Kellie Kamryn is captain of her crew wearing many a hat: chauffeur, cook, maid, and armchair psychologist. Sweet and romantic, or sassy and hot, Kellie’s writing will melt your heart—and maybe your undies! Her vivid style of storytelling has gained her erotic romances numerous 5-star reviews. Multi-talented, she does voice work recording audio books.

Kellie is a PRO member of the Romance Writers of America, a regular contributing blogger for the Ass Cheek Angels, as well as her own Sweet and Sassy blog, a motivational speaker, and most recently, a writer for Evolved World in the Lifestyles section.

Please visit with her at Kellie loves to hear from readers!

Erotic Integrity® may not be the first thing on your mind as you approach your first, second or third date with someone, but getting laid might be. To set yourself up for success in your sexual, as well as romantic, life, consider the following SIX points:

  1. Be clear about the kind of relationship you’re looking for. If you’re looking for a bootie call or a fuckbuddy, that’s absolutely fine. But don’t pretend to be looking for a spouse. Your date may be happy to jump your bones with no commitment. Just don’t misrepresent your intentions. If you are not monogamous, don’t pretend to be. Let the other person make an informed choice about who you are and the type of relationship you’re available for. It’ll avoid both of you the heartache of infidelity later. And if you’re looking for a long term relationship, the love of your life whom you want to skip off into the sunset with, say so. Don’t downplay the kind of relationship you want because you don’t think you can have it. You can! I’m a firm believer that you can design a relationship that may not fit societal norms, but that fits for you. Many older people want a companion who has their own separate home down the street or in the next town.
  2. Know what you want sexually…other than some sex, which may be more than you’ve been getting if you’ve been single for a while. I mean more specifically, know what your turn-ons are. If you’re into women of Rubenesque proportions, leave the skinny chicks for someone else. If you’re into BDSM, don’t pick a vanilla lover. If you’re bisexual, figure out how you’re going to have that fit into your relationship. Do you date a straight person, a gay person, a bi person, a non-monogamous person? If you have a fetish for high heels on your lover’s feet, put that in your online ad, so that the Birkenstock wearers know you’re not a fit for them. Part of Erotic Integrity is knowing yourself.
  3. Reveal yourself, gently, to your potential partner. Drop hints about your proclivities and preferences. Mention places where you hang out (nude beaches), or that you find objectionable (swing clubs). Does your date respond with a sexy knowing smile, enthusiasm, lustful glee, distaste, incomprehension, fear…? If you’re into bondage and you didn’t meet your date at the Folsom street Fair in San Francisco, ask how it might be if you tied her up with sewing thread. Another aspect of Erotic Integrity is owning who you are as an erotic being, showing up authentically, and being accountable for your proclivities, not in a defensive way but in an embracing way.
  4. Talk openly, or as openly as you can. If you and your date are getting along well and moving into increasing sexual contact, you have to be respectful of their health, and yours. If you have trepidation about revealing a health condition such as a herpes diagnosis or other STD, a wooden leg, an innocuous skin rash or some such difficult topic, as my French grandmother used to say: “Just spit it out, at least we’ll see what it is” (“Crache, on verra c’que c’est”.) If your delivery isn’t perfect you can clean it up later. Just get it out. I also recommend having a conversation about what you’d both want to do in the case of an unwanted pregnancy, in addition to the birth control talk. People wait until the situation presents itself, but I think it’s good to know ahead of time what your respective positions are on that. Just in case. It’s good information to have.
  5. Tell your lover how to pleasure you. People don’t read minds, much as we persist in wishing they did. Set both of you up for success.
  6. Live your eroticism. Who are you saving it for? Don’t play it safe. Don’t wait for someone else to validate it. Show up in all your glory and rock your lover’s world as well as your own. There’s a spontaneous feedback loop in sex: when one person is really turned on, the other can ride (so to speak) that energy and it increases their arousal too. The most fun part of Erotic Integrity is living it authentically. To learn more about Erotic Integrity ®, go to have your say about Erotic Integrity ®, go to