Guest Post – Houston Havens’ Sinful Surrender

SinfulSurrenderHHWhy be tempted by one man’s seduction when you can be loved by three?

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Amazon- http://www.amazon.com/Sinful-Surrender-Psychic-M%C3%A9nage-Book-ebook/dp/B00J1RDFUU

Liquid Silver Books- http://www.lsbooks.com/sinful-surrender-p893.php

ARe- https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-sinfulsurrender-1452826-340.html

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Blurb

Top psychic spy Fay Avalon saw too much on her latest mind traveling mission and is now on the run from her post-catastrophic dystopian government, searching for the truth and proof. She escapes but is shot down, landing in the arms of the enemy.

In Drakker and Arlo’s world, women are so rare the men have accepted a polyandrous lifestyle. When the brothers stumble upon Fay unconscious in the wreckage of an aircraft, they are immediately attracted to her. Arlo wants to keep her, but Drakker knows they can’t. They must take her to their brother Logan Abán, leader of their people.

Logan struggles with trusting anyone, even himself. When a beautiful, intelligent, and intriguing woman falls into their laps, his denied desires for intimacy challenge his need to trust the spy. He’s frustrated by romantic Arlo’s claims of her innocence. Even when pragmatic and dominating Drakker defends her as well, Logan refuses to trust his gut.

Can one woman satisfy the diverse desires of three men? Will Logan’s fears be realized by betrayal? Is Fay to be sentenced to death as a spy, suffer a fate worse than death by being returned to her government as a traitor, or will she find a new life and love as the wife of three sexy brothers?

Excerpt

At her silence, he stripped off his shirt. A prickle of heat flushed down her neck as she watched his arm muscles flex with the movement. She had the strongest impulse to touch his smooth, tanned skin. She fought the urge to reach out, but curiosity plagued her. Would it feel warm and silky, unlike the pasty Dirt Dweller men who never made her core throb like this? She shook her head and looked away, resisting the desire. But she couldn’t stop her gaze from returning to him as he tossed the shirt down and hooked his thumbs over his large silver buckle. His actions dropped his pants a tempting two more inches below his hipbones, exposing the lower half of his hard stomach. Except for the hair on his head, the man’s body was hairless. Those pants were riding low enough to show some pubic hair by now, but there wasn’t any. She continued to stare at his thumbs, hoping his pants would fall another inch lower.

“Beautiful lady?” Arlo tilted his head down, capturing her attention when his long, semisweet-chocolate hair slipped over his muscled shoulder. Her breath caught in her chest. Something about his long hair added to his sexual attractiveness. The temptation to caress his physique and run her fingertips through his silky-looking hair was overwhelming. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her hands tucked where they were.

“Ah, hmm.” The clearing of his throat drew her gaze up. He gave a cocky smile. “If you keep looking at me with that hungry look in those stunning violet eyes of yours…I’ll be honest, I don’t think I can stop myself from kissing you.”

In her world, modesty was expected. Though reluctant, she dropped her admiring scrutiny. Her pounding heart made her feel dizzy.

“Well.” Arlo’s tone was low as he slowly moved into her space while reaching out to pull her closer to him. The soft scent of sage filled her senses.

She didn’t resist his embrace as he whispered in her ear, “I’ll be damned if that reaction wasn’t more of an invitation than a rejection.”

Captivated by the sexy sound of his voice and the words he spoke, she didn’t argue with his observation. She wanted him to kiss her. No Dirt Dweller would ever confess to lusting for a woman as Arlo just did. Just the thought he desired her and let it be known made her heart beat faster. The idea of a man lusting for a woman was sinfully enticing. Guilt washed over her, but didn’t stay. She didn’t care how many prayers of forgiveness she would have to say for this moment of passion. It would be worth it.

Arlo leaned back a smidgeon and angled his head down until their gazes met. He briefly paused as if silently asking permission to kiss her. This time she refused to look away. He gave a sexy smirk and a wink before slipping his hand behind her neck in a seductive move bringing her mouth toward his succulent lips. His lips merged with her willing mouth in a heated kiss. Their bodies followed, pressing into each other. She couldn’t get close enough to him.

He broke the kiss and murmured next to her ear, “If I’m moving too fast for you, tell me.” He kissed her again not waiting for her answer. Fay couldn’t think of a reason to stop him, nor did she want to.

His mouth was soft and warm. His kiss lingered on her lips, and the warmth between her thighs moistened her panties. She glided her hands over him as she molded her body into his. Every inch of her flesh craved him. She was hungry to feel his body’s heat sizzle against hers. She imagined what he might look like naked. Lusty images swirled around in her mind as her heart filled with passion. Every cell in her body desired him.

Fay ravished every inch of his exposed skin with her fingers. She raked them up and down his back never having felt a man’s body like this. He was so hard and muscular. The sensation was driving her libido wild. In a moment of clarity she realized what she was doing. She’d been raised to know she was acting in a shameless and disgraceful manner. Teachings, not belief, made her pull away from him. She’d never done anything like this before. It had to be the fresh air. Maybe the levels of oxygen were higher here compared to her Underworld’s limited supply.

He slipped his fingers along the closure of her flight suit making her skin heat with wanton desire.

“Now, I’m getting distracted,” he said, pinching the pull tab of her zipper between his fingers and sliding it downward.

Her breasts bounced with each rousing breath she took.

“I’m here to see you get a bath, my little filly. Are you going to get undressed, or am I going to have to do it for you?”

Trailers:

http://youtu.be/IS0zpnJbZsQ

http://youtu.be/4-jc-tcEAaQ

http://youtu.be/TI3Cf_3bcpk (long version)

HosutonHavensBio

Erotic romance author Houston Havens, a former successful model enjoying an adventurous jet-set lifestyle, intrigues her readers with a mix of the past, present, and future, and sexy blends of futuristic science fiction, paranormal fantasy, and western romance, always with love everlasting. A tenacious Irish lass filled with passion and mystery hopes her sultry stories will entertain and fascinate those who dare to take the journey. She’s also a social media junkie with an award winning blog. http://houstonhavens.wordpress.com

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Music Monday – Takin’ Pills

I’m trying to get life back to some semblance of normalcy. Our cat is still terminally ill and it was important to me to be able to help my children as well as my husband and myself cope with it, get to that place of acceptance. It’s been expensive simply to find out what’s wrong. Now that we know a little better what we’re dealing with, we’re able to put it in perspective, know the signs, and can move forward.

With that in mind, I’ve been writing more, doing some revisions, getting my work back moving forward as well… So, let’s let my sarcastic side take over for a bit and see where we end up…

~lissa

Sadness and Grief

Both let you know you’re alive and both take their toll and teach you what heartbroken is on a whole different level. You can become amazingly good at crying, completely unglued, and sometimes, you can hide it so well… Me, I’m still in the crying and unglued stage. My face is red and raw and my eyes are swollen. I haven’t eaten and I don’t want to. And… it’s all because of a cat. One of our cats. The sweetest cat I’ve ever had, that I’ve ever met.

This is Bits, but we call him Boo Bear…and he was diagnosed yesterday with lymphoma. This picture was taken two weeks ago when no one knew anything was wrong.

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Cancer sucks. Be it in a human or an animal, it sucks.

We adopted Bits when he was a baby in a shelter. The first day we met him, he curled up in my daughter’s arms and went to sleep. He chose us, at least that’s the way we’ve always looked at it. That was 10 years ago.

He’s always loved being brushed and he has always come running when there’s tuna being opened or roast chicken being cleaned off the bone. He used to sleep at my feet under the covers when he was little and he has always adored boxes.

A week ago, he was the picture of health, but now he breathes with difficulty and will only lick ice cubes from my hand to get water. 10 days ago he was running through the house, sitting in the window, or stretched out in a large box sleeping. He lays on my kitchen table now but barely sleeps. Does he know the end is near? I don’t know if he does or not. But it’s enough and it’s too much that I know and it’s broken my heart. No one lives forever, not even our animals.

2014-03-04 11.15.37

My grandfather died from non-Hodgkins lymphoma and bone cancer. He lived 9 years after the initial diagnosis and we had time to make some memories, to spend together, to remind one another how much love there was between us. I miss him every day and it took about a year for me to be able to talk about him without tears streaming down my face. I was there at the end and it was something I needed to do.

My cat won’t live 9 more years. Not 9 months. Maybe not 6. Likely not even 3.

It’s painful, this knowledge. Life doesn’t stop just because he’s dying. I’d sure like it to though.

I wear my emotions on my sleeve more than most. I can turn into a blubbering mess with little provocation. Animals are my weak spot. They are no less deserving of a good home, of good care, of love than a human being. They don’t deserve our cruelty. They are living, breathing creatures and bring so much to our lives when we let them.

Bits has brought us years of joy and I hope we can make whatever time he has left as comfortable as possible. He is like one of my children. We’ve raised him, fed him, cared for him, nursed him when he was sick, played with him, snuggled with him. So, I’ll sit here with him for as long as this is where he chooses to rest. He deserves to feel that love every moment he has left, up until the very end.

~lissa

Race Day and Other Thoughts

daytona500_2014It’s here… The 2014 Nascar season. Speedweeks have been going on and there’s been racing on Daytona International Speedway since the end of January, but this is different. It’s always different. Today matters. Points matters. The engines firing matters. Pit stops matter. Where you  end up when the checkered flag waves matters.

I’m a fan and if you know me at all, this is no surprise. I don’t like my driver’s teammates and I don’t like a lot of other drivers out on the track either. What I do like is good hard racing. Single file and falling in line don’t do it for me. I want to see squirrly cars and bumping and banging and rubbin’ is racin’ excitement. Yes it’s 43 cars going left around a track, but what people who don’t watch, who don’t pay attention miss, is the strategy, the radio communications, the teamwork or lack of. If you understand that’s what the race really is, then it’s more than just 43 cars turning left in turns 1, 2, 3, and 4.

Writing a book and pushing the Publish button is about strategy, communication, understanding of the market, teammwork or lack of, understanding of your own strengths, where the high line is and when it’s time to pull out and try another line… I sought some help the other night on this very thing and while I don’t like some of the changes I need to make, in the end, I’ll find myself and what I’m good at. I could do it the publisher way that I was taught for several years and see only mediocre results… Or, I could allow myself to be pushed and shoved and kicked out of my comfort zone and try things a new way. Being that I’m self-publishing more, I’m going to have to let go of what I was taught. This is scary shit, y’all.

Yesterday was my birthday. I’m 43. I’m no closer now to be where I want to be as an author than I was last year at this time when I turned 42. It’s time to shake things up. The books will be the same. Hot, naughty, sexy as sin men. Feisty, strong, curvaceous women. But the branding will be stronger, tighter. We’re going to have fun, even though there will bumps from behind, slams into the walls, maybe even a few tumbles through the air and landing on our heads as we try to figure out this new world. I was comfortable dipping my toe in, but I wasn’t making it anywhere near the new finish line. I wasn’t fighting for it or taking that bow at the end.

It’s time to change and change freaks me out.

I’m re-writing blurbs, changing keywords, looking differently at categories, and re-covering some books to match this new world to look sharper and hotter. We’ll be experimenting a lot, too.

Let’s go get that checkered flag!

~lissa

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Temptation Tuesday – Shifting Currents

This is something I’m working on that’s new and it was for a special call for a publisher, but I’m not going to get it finished in time to meet the deadline. The Sticky Cowgirl has been taking up a lot of my time and I’ve about had it with these two…

But, even if I miss that deadline, I’ll self publish it and it’s no harm, no foul… It’s a bear shifter, not related to the Denali Heat series, but it’s me hoping that this one will kick start the next book for my polar bear shifters. For the time being though, I’m working on this one, here and there…

This is unedited, so just ignore the issues within…

Blake muttered a curse. Humidity covered everything from the leaves on the forest floor to the tops of the trees that rose high above. He slammed the cabin’s front door and retreated back inside to the blessed air conditioning. “Ninety-six? Not even seven in the morning and it’s ninety-six degrees? The universe is trying to kill me. That’s got to be it. Climate change. Global warming. Blah. Blah. Blah. What about just fucking hot?”

Grumpy as a bear didn’t even cover it for him and was no laughing matter. He was a damn bear. Or at least, he was a half-bear. And he hated the heat. Why didn’t bears hibernate in the summer? They could sleep during the scorching, blazing, sun-baked days instead of…sweating and having to go around naked all the time.

Not that there was anything wrong with being naked. He always got up in the morning, got dressed with the intent to stay that way, but never made it past noon. Noon-oh-one showed up and he was buck assed naked and in the river. The river was starting to piss him off too. The water was cool, but more than once, he’d seen and he’d smelled someone. It wasn’t anyone he knew. It wasn’t anyone he wanted to know, not if his keen senses were on target and they usually were.

The scent was all female. Human, but with a delicate undertone of bear. He’d never encountered a half-breed female before which had been just fine with him. He’d had sexual encounters with full human women, but none in quite a while. Being intimate had always made him want something more. He was in his early twenties when his parents were killed in shifted form. Poachers had trespassed on their land. His land now. And the world hadn’t gotten any safer or better for wildlife.

He didn’t want to mate. Now, or ever. Sex was fine as long as it was anonymous sex. There were plenty of bars on the fringe of the mountain towns for him to find partners when the urge struck. But mating? Producing cubs? No way.

And even though his natural bear counterparts never mated for life, his parents and grandparents and all those that came before and after, had. It was just one of the smudges of his DNA. He wanted to be left alone here in this little corner of the Smoky Mountains. He didn’t care what happened after he was gone, but until that time came, he was content to exist right where he was, alone.

A female shifter didn’t figure into his mind’s long-term plans. His body had other ideas with every whiff of the meddling woman. Not that he’d met her. For all he knew she was a very pleasant creature.

Creature? “Shit.” He bit the word out. The older he got, the surlier he got. Enough so he’d called her… If he was so damn content to be isolated and alone, why was he grumpy all the time? This was something he didn’t understand. Shouldn’t it make him happy? Shouldn’t he be ecstatic and thrilled to be living the ultimate life according to his grand design?

“I was happy,” he growled to the empty cabin. The empty cabin that was too big for just one person, but felt too confining most days lately. It had been built for a large family. His grandmother had had four cubs and those uncles were still alive with cubs of their own. He had family. He had cousins.

He’d had a twin sister, too, but she hadn’t survived birth. His mother had never been able to have more.

He knew pain and loss and he didn’t want anything to do with it ever again. A woman would only complicate his uncomplicated life. “I’ll just stay away from her,” he declared to the four walls. “I’ve done a good job of it so far. I can just keep doing so until she leaves the area.”

Feeling satisfied with himself and his decision, Blake made for the kitchen and the Mason jar of iced coffee in the fridge. If summer were good for anything, it was iced coffee. He drank it black, undiluted but for a few ice cubes and a slight sweetness.

He stepped onto the back deck and took a deep breath. The heat wasn’t so bad with something cold coating his throat and cooling him from the inside out. But it was still oppressive. He turned to reenter the cabin, but caught the scent before he could turn his head. She was near. To the northeast and getting closer.

Blake debated with himself. Should he get closer? Should he get a look at her? His body screamed that yes he should. His brain, on the other hand, screamed obscenities at him for even considering it.

Her scent was stronger now. “Man, this is such a bad idea,” he whispered to no one even as he crept off the deck and onto the forest floor. For a six foot five guy, he could be surprisingly stealthy.

He weaved his way through the trees toward the water, careful to keep out of sight as he got closer. A stand of trees and low-lying bushes allowed him to stay out of view. He crouched to his knees and waited.

He didn’t have to wait long. She rounded the bend in the river several seconds later and Blake had to bite down on his tongue to keep the howl at bay. His soul growled “Mine” and his brain knew they were all goners.

Reddish blonde hair caught the morning light that glinted off the water. Strands of gold and red, copper and auburn floated on the surface behind her. Her face was tilted up toward the sun as she drifted along.

She was beautiful. What he could see of her, that is. She had a full finger that fit the tube, not one that would slink through the middle unless she held on. No, this one was curved and womanly in shape. Blake liked that.

Too much. He huffed, then dropped back behind a tree. The sound echoed and she lifted her head, her gaze focused in his direction. He held his breath and stayed where he was until he was down river a little ways.

He followed.

He hadn’t intended to, only his feet wouldn’t listen to his head. He didn’t usually shift in the daytime, but this wasn’t just any day. This was a special day. His bear had found its mate, and his human was pissed about it. Oh yeah. A real fuckin’ special day.

And what he’d like more than to mate at the moment with the pretty redhead, was a swim. In human form, it was hotter than hell. In bear form, it was damned hotter than hell. His coat was brown and he melted into the foliage of the Smoky Mountain National Forest. His paws were soft on the ground as he tracked the path of the inner tube. Every so often she hummed songs he didn’t know, but he liked the sound. He hated that he liked it, but nonetheless, he liked it.

She didn’t have on a bathing suit, but rather a white tank top and cut-off shorts. Would her nipples be erect? Was she braless? Did she maybe have a bikini top under the tank top? None of the answers mattered. He wanted her. Her scent was sweet and rich, like honey. Her hair was long. The color of her eyes, how tall she might or might not be, the span of her waist… None of that mattered. His gut knew.

She was a shifter too. He wasn’t sure at all how he knew that, but he did. His family didn’t mate with only shifters and the person with the dominant genes won out on whether offspring would move within both worlds or not.

At the same time, Blake didn’t think she was from around the Smokies. Her scent was too different, too new for her to inhabit the same North Carolina stretch of forest and mountain, he did. No, she was a visitor to these parts.

He also wondered if she could scent him too. Every so often she’d glance over, as though looking for something, but Blake knew she couldn’t hear him or see him. He was far enough back and used his knowledge of the woods and the river to keep her in his sight and to stay out of hers.

The –

“I know you’re there,” she called out, interrupting his train of thought.

Blake hunkered low to the ground and tried to stop breathing. He didn’t want to be found out. He wasn’t ready. Rather, his human side wasn’t ready.

“You’re not going to talk to me? You’re just going to hide in the trees?”

He snuffled and slipped behind a tree, climbing quickly. He had a good view of several miles of river and mountains. He could see the roofs of cabins and tube rental shacks.

“That’s kind of rude. You can see me, but you’re not going to let me see you? It’s also kind of stalkerish.”

Stalker? She was calling him a stalker? Well, that was so not what he was. She had the complete wrong idea about him.

He was on the ground again in no time and without sparing her a look, he walked back toward his cabin. When he was sure she couldn’t see shadows or shapes, he shifted back into human form.

Him? A stalker? What kind of crap was that? “The callin’ it like she saw it kind, asshole.”

Blake is definitely going to fun to play with…

~lissa

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