Monday, September 29, 2014

Guest Blogger and Cover Reveal: TL Reeve

Today I have the please of having one of my besties, TL Reeve, taking over my blog. She's got an exciting upcoming release to talk about. As part of the Beyond Fairytales line, Saving Their Princess sounds...and looks absolutely delicious. So join in with me welcoming Ms. Reeve to ALBoN. 


Sabine Babineaux, daughter to the mayor of New Orleans and waitress at The Three Princesses bar, has her life upended after a late night at work. Kidnapped, Sabine is determined to escape, but once she’s free her fight has only just begun. 

Stuart Renwick and Kyle Novak, detectives with New Orleans police department, are assigned a kidnapping case with multiple victims. However, when one of the missing women, Sabine Babineaux, is practically dropped in their lap, everything they know about being detectives is tossed by the wayside. 

Now, in a race against time to find out who the kidnapper is, and prevent anyone else being snatched, Sabine, Stuart, and Kyle must work together. 

Sparks fly, between the three of them, but will it be their downfall? 

With someone watching them, tragedy strikes when they least expect it. Will Sabine survive long enough to explore her feelings for both detectives? Or will Stuart and Kyle fall at the hand of her kidnapper?


The cab came to a stop some time later and she sat up. The world spun on its axis. The sound of bees buzzing filled her ears as she broke out in a cold sweat and she began to shake violently. Sabine tried in vain to make her body cooperate with her, but it was a no go. Her brain was muddled and nothing made sense anymore. Not even her body would oblige her and move. “Where am I?” Sabine whispered, licking her lips. 

“The lady is right here,” the cabbie said, opening the door. “She bleeding and wearing next to nothing.” 

A thread of embarrassment slid through her, but as quickly as it was there, it was gone. “Help me,” she croaked. The world around her was slowly floating away. No matter how much she tried to keep her eyes open, she couldn’t gather the strength needed to do so. “I…can’t…go…back.” Unconsciousness, blissful yet scary, drifted around her, cradling her into a void of nothingness. 

“No you don’t, sweetheart.” A gruff voice called to her, drawing her out of the darkness. “Come back to us.” 

Sabine’s eyes fluttered open, then shut again. She didn’t want to open her eyes. The darkness was safe. It was comfortable there. There was no pain. No cages. Freedom lurked in the darkness. 

“Ambulance is on the way,” another male said. His voice was an octave higher than the penetrating baritone of the first man. “It’s our kidnapping victim.” 

Congratulations, you win the booby prize. 

“Yeah it is,” person one said. “When did you say that ambulance would be here?” In the distance she could hear the warble of noise. Finally she could sleep. “Hey now.” The man’s rough palm patted her cheek. “Wake up, sweetheart. Stay with us.” 

Sabine groaned and turned away from him. 

“They’re both through and throughs, Stuart, and she’s lost a good amount of blood.” 

So man one did have a name. Stuart. His name was both sexy and bold, invoking delicious images of the man holding her hand. When did he take my hand? How come I can’t remember how I got here? 

“Damn it,” he cursed. “If they don’t hurry their asses up, we’re going to lose our victim. Call them back Kyle and tell them to double time it.” 

Kyle. His name was just as delectable as Stuart’s. I wonder what he looks like. A part of her was using anything she could think of to stay right there, even though she could feel the darkness surrounding her. 

Sabine groaned as she was jostled around. The prick of a needle in her arm caused her to whimper. “Stop.” With a weak gesture she tried to push them away and a hand appeared in hers, squeezing it. 

“You gave me a scare girl,” Stuart said close to her ear. “Stay with Kyle and I. Don’t try going anywhere again.” What was he talking about? “Is she ready?” 

“Yes, we’re loading her up now. Are you following?” 

Sabine half listened to the conversation around her, trying to stay with Stuart like he asked her to do. 

“I’m riding with you. My partner will give you the escort.” The soft cushion she lay on lifted up momentarily, jostling her around, then slid into something. In no time they were rolling. “Sabine, we’re going to get you fixed up. I promise.” 

She muttered something and a sharp burning sensation raced up her arm, then everything inside of her mellowed out, relaxing her completely. Oh hell yeah, that’s the good stuff. Instead of fighting the darkness she went with it. It was light and peaceful. The pain that radiated through her whole body relented and she could finally breathe without feeling as though her chest was being squeezed to death. Just a little nap and then I’ll tell them everything. The heavy darkness wrapped its tendrils around her and she fell into the deepest sleep she’d had in weeks. 


Sunday, September 28, 2014

Guest Blogger & Cover Reveal: Ella Sheridan

Happy Sunday! Even though our Teacher's Pet blog hop is still going today, I have the wonderful pleasure of sharing a never before seen cover by one of my fellow NGWN authors, Ella Sheridan. And let me tell you, it's to drool for.  So enjoy, a little bit of Sunday eye candy!  


Teach Me (Southern Nights Book One)

A woman determined to heal…

Shy researcher Jess Kingston spent the last eight weeks recovering from her ex-boyfriend’s brutal attack. Body healed, she’s ready to put her life back together—except her ex isn’t ready to let go. She won’t cower in a corner while Brit tortures her, but she’s powerless to fight back.

A man determined to resist…

Ex-military security specialist Conlan James avoids commitment like the plague. His job, his Harley, and the occasional one-night stand are all he needs, until the day he rescues Jess from a tense situation and realizes he can’t get her off his mind. He can teach her to protect herself, but protecting his heart is another matter.

A madman determined to win…

As the deadly game of cat-and-mouse with Brit heats up, so does the hunger between Con and Jess. Safety might be found in numbers, but in bed, all bets are off—and the wrong move could lead to heartbreak. Or death.

Preorder Links:


What the hell are you doing here?

This wasn’t the first time in the last five minutes that Conlan had asked himself the same question. Maybe if he had an answer, the revolving door in his brain would stop spinning, but that didn’t seem likely. Not anytime soon. Not with the beautiful brunette he’d come to see sitting close enough that, if he let himself look, he could detect the light dusting of freckles across her nose. But he wasn’t looking, and he shouldn’t be here, so how had he ended up standing in line behind the thirtysomething latte league? It sure as hell wasn’t for the coffee.

Legs braced wide, he shifted from one hip to the other, the creak of his motorcycle chaps reminding him he could be enjoying a few extra minutes on the Harley before work instead of spending that precious time here, mooning over a woman. Doe Eyes. The first time he’d seen her all those months ago, he’d thought her eyes reminded him of sweet Georgia pecans and skittish does. The name stuck, as had the memory of her eyes—and a hundred other glimpses he shouldn’t have taken.

Another name called, another latte dispensed, another shuffle forward.

He hadn’t seen those eyes in eight weeks, and yet still he’d shown up every Monday, like clockwork, hoping for one more glimpse and calling himself an idiot. Wasn’t like he planned on asking her out. So why the hell did he torture himself with these weekly forays into enemy territory?

Sex. Or sex appeal, at least.

Another step closer to the counter. The move didn’t ease the constriction behind the zipper of his jeans. This was what she did to him, thinking about her. Especially now, after so long apart.

The thought had a snort escaping. Ahead of him, Mr. Suit and Tie startled and glanced over a shoulder, but Conlan ignored the look. He was too busy figuring out when “this” had become enough like a relationship in his head that he would think things like “after so long apart.” Doe Eyes might appear prominently in his thoughts from time to time—especially certain times—but he’d never seen her outside of this coffee shop. And he wouldn’t. A quick roll in the hay was one thing, but Doe Eyes wasn’t the kind of woman who had one-night stands. He could tell that much just by looking at her. She was a relationship kind of woman, and he was a relationship-phobic kind of guy. Which meant he seriously needed to get a grip—and not on the part of him growing even harder at the idea.

Idiot was right.

He should be at work. Southern summer heat brought out the crazies almost as well as full moons did, and JCL Security was feeling the impact, juggling cases like they had eight arms, which they didn’t. Too many sleepless nights had been spent at his office, especially with the Bennett case coming up. Just a couple more weeks before Thea Bennett had her bastard of a husband before a judge and hopefully out of her life, but the paper- and prep work to get the high-profile bastard there had been a bitch. He seriously needed to—

“Conlan, hey!”

For a passing moment he was convinced the voice belonged to the woman filling his thoughts. But when the high, candied voice called again, he realized it was coming from the counter. The cashier. Tonya, Tammy? Tracy? He couldn’t remember. She was blonde with a deep tan he would’ve deemed impossible in a landlocked city like Atlanta, the shade a stark contrast to her white smile. Stepping up, he threw her a grin. “Hey.”

She batted long lashes, almost hiding the way her glance slid down to the crotch of his jeans, framed in his leather chaps. “Long time, no see.”

He winked automatically. “It’s a long wait between Mondays.”

The girl giggled. “Your usual?”

“That’s right. Thanks,” he said, passing over a ten-dollar bill.

She made change, certain to caress his hand as she laid the money in his palm. Conlan was more interested in the dark Colombian roast another employee was walking toward them. High-octane all the way. The sight of the near-black brew had him salivating for something other than Doe Eyes for the first time that morning.

He reached the condiment counter just as his phone buzzed in his back pocket. Probably Jack. Retrieving the cell confirmed his suspicion.

Where the hell are you? his partner had texted.

Piss off, Con replied, a grin tugging at his lips. The irony that he’d spent too much time asking himself the very same question didn’t escape him. In a half hour he’d be at the office and they could both stop wondering.

With a little back-and-forth he managed to cram the phone back in his tight jeans. He glanced around absently, and his gaze snagged on a pair of amber-brown eyes that suddenly met his.

He froze.

Doe Eyes dropped her chin and shifted over the slightest bit, enough that her friend’s position blocked her from view, but not before he caught the blush coloring her creamy cheeks.

His cock banged against his zipper as if begging to be let out. The bite of pain caught his breath in his throat. Jesus, what the hell was he—

Don’t! Ask. Again. He knew what the hell he was doing here, and he needed to go; he really did. He needed to stop letting his dick run this show, grab his coffee, and get back to reality.

He was restless, that was all. He was a man who needed action. Needed to be doing something, anything, not sitting behind a desk like he’d been for weeks while prepping Thea’s case. Usually he worked off his frustration in a way that involved cool silk sheets and bare skin and satisfaction on both sides, but there’d been no damn time. Just his hand and the additional chafing it provided, which wasn’t near as effective—or satisfying. That had to be the reason he couldn’t stop thinking about his mystery woman.

Of course. That had to be it.

Popping the lid off his cardboard cup released the rich aroma of ground coffee beans into the air. He lifted his cup and blew across the hot liquid, the sound almost a sigh of relief. He was already reaching for the packets of sugar when black squiggles caught his eye. There. On the part of the paper sleeve now facing him, he could see a name and number were clearly written: Tiffany. A 470 area-code phone number.

So that was her name. Sounded like an eighties pop star. A glance over his shoulder found the cashier leaning across the bar where drinks were picked up, her mounded breasts shelved there, on display. Come back soon, she mouthed, her shoulders doing a little wiggle. On reflex, he threw her a grin, but her seemingly seductive move couldn’t pull his glance downward. His dick didn’t even twitch. Apparently only one thing could trigger his runaway libido this morning.

He added the sugar, trying to ignore the panic in his gut and his one-track mind. The latter was impossible. He wanted to know Doe Eyes’ name, her phone number. Were her breasts as full as they looked beneath that starched white button-down? Was her hair as soft as he swore it would be when he fisted it between his fingers?

He stirred a bit too vigorously, and coffee sloshed over the side of the cup.

Don’t look. Don’t. He realized he’d closed his eyes. A sigh escaped as he rubbed a thumb and finger against them, but as soon as the lids popped open, he searched for her. Had to see her. Felt his heartbeat pick up knowing she might meet his eyes.

He was so screwed—and smart enough to admit it. He let go, let the conflict and the churning in his gut and the tension cramping his muscles go. And then he looked toward her table.

It was empty.

“Well shit.”

He stood for a moment, cursing himself, the coffee, and everything else he could think of. When another customer stepped up behind him and cleared his throat, wanting access to the counter, Con grabbed his cup and headed out the door. On his way, he chucked the coffee in the trash without a single sip.

Author Bio:

Ella grew up in the Deep South, where books provided adventures, friends, and her first taste of romance. Now she writes her own romantic adventures, with plenty of hot alpha men and the women who love and challenge them. With a day job, a husband, two active teenagers, and two not so active cats, Ella is always busy, but getting the voices in her head down on paper is a top priority. Connect with Ella at .

Author Website:

Author Newsletter:

Author E-mail:

Social Media Links:

Amazon Author Page

Facebook Author Page

Twitter (@AuthorESheridan)


Publishing History:

Secrets To Hide Series -

Saturday, September 27, 2014

Nice Girls Writing Naughty Event: Teacher's Pets

Hi all, so all of you know that I belong to a really cool group of authors and we have a blog called Nice Girls Writing Naughty, right?  No?  Well, no worries, you've now been informed.  And I'm super excited! This month is my turn to host our monthly party and with the kiddos going back to school, Livvy and I have come up with this pretty sweet idea.  I talked the rest of my NGWN author pals into posting one of their yummy heroes as their Teacher's Pet and some juicy tidbits of what they might have been like in school.  

So what do you the reader get out of it?  Well, for one - a chance at a $50 gift certificate from Amazon.  Just check out the post HERE for all the juicy details.  And I promise it will be fun!  Oh and did I mention that each author will be giving away of pretty cool prize on their blogs? Mine will be a free ARC of Twice the Chance, Twice the Ecstasy.  

Now that I got the contest stuff taken care of...lets bring on Dakota's Pet.   

*drum roll* 

His name is Dre and he's the sexier than sin co-hero (that's a word right) of my upcoming release, Twice the Chance, Twice the Ecstasy.   He and his partner, Luca have been best friends since high school.  To find out more about him...check out his Fast Five and the steamy excerpt at the end of the post.  And don't forgot to comment at the end of the post for my blog prize. 


1.  The hottest teacher at Washington High was Ms. Clearwater and she taught Home Economics. I wasn't the only guy who took her class just to watch her bend over a hot stove.  

2.  On Friday nights you’d have found me at the ball game watching Luca lead the Warriors to a state championship while ogling Tara Sanderson, the head cheerleader. I don't know who looked better. Luca in those tight white pants, or Tara in her short pleated skirt and pom-poms.

3.   I was  the president of the chess club in high school, but in college I gave it up to join the Gamer Club and we designed the first version of Knight's Vengeance.

4. When I graduated high school I was voted the most likely to never marry.  I showed them wrong. I've been with my partner for nearly 20 years. 

5.  When I pledged in college, Hell Week was the pits. Until my frat brothers realized I could erase all their speeding tickets with a few strokes of the keyboard.

So want to know more about Dre?   Check out the blurb and excerpt below. :) 

Coming October 3rd!

Calypso has been given a task…

Divorcee, Eryka Desmonte, wants to find the sexual gratification that had been lacking in her marriage. So she’s willing to try anything, including signing up to meet two potential lovers at what used to be an abandoned resort in West Caicos. Now run by the reclusive Ms. Calypso, Club Ecstasy Caicos boasts of the most lavish accommodations and sinful temptations. Eyrka just prays the resort’s owner knows her business, because Eryka’s in desperate need of someone with the right touch. 

Business partners and lovers, Luca Reed and Dre Bennet are anxious to celebrate their upcoming anniversary. Together for nearly twenty years, they want something special…and naughty. Dee thinks he’s found it when he receives a mysterious email from a Ms. Calypso. She’s preparing to open her newest exotic resort and would like them to come and test out the amenities. Eager for a tropical vacation complete with a beautiful woman, both men agree, never expecting they’ve been set up by a matching making Goddess with an agenda of her own. 


Less than two hours later and stretched out naked on a padded table except for a small towel draped over her ass, Eryka moaned softly as Raeni placed another warm stone along her spine. When she arrived at the spa, she’d hadn’t expected the plump older woman who’d given her a grueling Swedish massage followed up by something called LaStone Therapy. Of course, that was after every part of her body had been scrubbed, peeled and waxed. Everything that Raeni had done had all been all in preparation for her potential lovers. 

“That’s it, feel the heat of the stones soaking into your chakras.” The masseuse spoke softly, her Jamaican accent soothing as she hovered over Eryka’s prone body. “Almost done. Just a couple more at the base of your spine, then I will leave you alone to enjoy the ambience.”

Eryka nodded, her face cupped gently by the cut out hole in the table. Letting her eyes drift shut as the sounds of the woman moving away faded, only to be replaced by the soft crash of waves against the sand. The slight breeze through the open patio doors, and smell of salt on the air was soothing. Eventually the stress of the long flight, cranky baby and her late night caught up with her and she dozed off.

She drifted along until the soft murmur of voices penetrated her daze. She stirred, but was shushed by a low masculine voice that reminded her of Michael Bolton. The soft yet coaxing command in it should’ve had her dander up but instead she fell into it – taking comfort in its strength. It was a voice she could get used to, she thought in a daze. Strong, comforting. 

“So beautiful. Look at all that beautiful skin.” A different voice this time, one a bit huskier like her favorite country singer, Trace Adkins, washed over her as fingers began removing the stones. “So soft – exactly as a woman should be.” 

She sighed in pleasure as a warm pair of hands slowly stroked down her sides. Fissures of pleasure danced along her skin with each brush. She relaxed as sleep tugged at her once more. Whoever these men were, they could touch her whenever the wanted, as long as they never stopped. 

“Hmmm, seems like she’s falling asleep on us again.” Trace-sounds-a-like’s amused tone slashed through her sleepy mind and she tried to lift her head from the table 

“Shhh….no don’t fight us.” The first voice whispered near her ear. “Just relax. Let us pleasure you.” 

She gave a half sigh, half moan as his partner’s fingers found the sensitive flesh at the rise of her ass, pressing hard then soothing over her hips. Who’d have thought such a touch would feel so pleasurable. 

“Good girl.” The sexy pop-star’s approval settled over her like a warm blanket. She must be having the best dream, she thought, because the men touching her couldn’t be real.

©Dakota Trace All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Saturday, September 20, 2014

#MySexySaturday {60}: At the masquerade ball...

So this week we're supposed to be focusing on love, no matter the location. Well, in my newest accepted 1NS book, Kotori's Sacrifice, my feisty heroine is willing to do about anything - including attend a masquerade ball at the Carnivore Club, if it will mean that she has a chance to win back her former master's love. 

Enjoy my sexy seven paragraphs and be sure to check in with the rest of the peeps. 

Inspiration for the Sanctum Ballroom

“We all have baggage, Sir. Why don’t we enjoy the masquerade, and see where we are afterward. After fifty to sixty hour weeks, I could use a bit of fun.” 

“You got a deal.” Seba smiled at her, liking the light-hearted side she was showing him. “As long as you promise to dance with me. It’s been too long since I’ve felt a woman in my arms.” 

Mey-rin cocked her head. “I suppose so. As long as you don’t mind risking your person. In that costume, I can’t promise my hands won’t wander. All those buttons make me want to open them with my teeth...” 

He groaned, as the image of her undoing his clothing with only her mouth, popped into his brain. He narrowed his eyes, but reined in the lust that simmered just under the surface. “Naughty girls get spanked. Hard.” 

Her breath caught in her throat, but he could hear the need in her voice when she spoke. “Then I guess I’ll have to be naughty.” 

Tempted to pull her over his lap, the only thing that saved her was the fact the car came to a stop. He yanked the zipper shut on his play bag. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind, he’d have her bound to a St. Andrews Cross wearing nothing more than that crisp white apron and begging for release before the night was over—at least if he had anything to say about it. 

As the door opened and she moved to exit, he took a deep breath. Now was not the time to act like an over-eager teenaged boy. Grabbing his toy bag, he slid out of the limo and stood. And stopped to take in the resort. Gone were the bright lights of the Strip. Instead, in its place was a massive resort complete with pueblo-style buildings that were backlit by soft ground lights. In the moonlight with the desert in the distance, it had an ethereal feel to it.

©Dakota Trace All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Guest Blogger: Rhiannon Wellman - Publish or Bust Tour

Today I have the unique pleasure of having Rhiannon Wellman joining me once more. This lovely authoress from the UK has made me giggle more than once and her writing is outstanding. So why not pull up a chair as she chats about her writing odyssey? First  lets take a look at the lovely Ms. Wellman's stats as she challenges herself to work on several different WIPs.  

Ms. Wellman's Stats!

Book Name
Word Count Day 1
Word Count Today
Moon Bound

A Dirty Weekend
Writers Block

Out of Uniform and into Love

Published or Bust

Well the tour has officially been named 'Published or Bust' so I've added it as the title from here on out. It feels all kind of official now lol.

As you can see I've switched about a bit today trying to get into a proper rhythm again after so long away from it all. I think I've not only gone past the pain barrier I've shown it what true pain can be if it fucks with me again!
I spent some time today with my father. He's going to be 67 later this year and as much as I've always known how old my dad was. Realizing that a century ago the average life span for us humans was 31 (in which case I would be extremely old at 32) and in 2010 it was 67.2 (don't ask me about the .2 I have no clue how they worked that out.)
I suppose it's made me reflect on life in general. And about not putting things off, Dad was one of the first people I told about my books, after my hubby. I even told him the type of books I wrote. After explaining what an e-book was a few times he asked me about them. I was a bit nervous at first to tell him that most of my books are MM romances. But he took the news very well, and was still proud of me after I explained what MM was.
Dad's old fashioned, he thinks marriage should be for a man and a woman, but, he does think that love doesn't really give a shit what gender you are. We've had many debates about it. And has conceded that marriage should be more about love that whether you keep your genitals inside or out.
I guess today's post has been a little more serious, but it's my way of saying. Don't talk yourself out of doing things today because you can do them tomorrow. We don't know how many tomorrows we have. Don't let insecurity stop you from trying. At the end of the day we will only regret the things we lacked the courage to try.
On that note I'll stop for today. Tomorrow I'm going to go into a bit more depth about Out of Uniform and into Love. Including a little snippet to tantalize you with.
Until tomorrow.

If you want to follow the daily posts you can find a list on my blog, I'll update links as we go, so if you miss a day don't worry you can find it here:
You can also find me on facebook
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©Dakota Trace All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.