by Mlissa | Feb 12, 2014 | Ellora's Cave, New Releases
Happy Wednesday and Happy Release Day, y’all! It took quite a while to get Slide Down On Me from submission to published, but it’s finally here and I couldn’t be more thrilled. I had a wonderful time working with a new-to-me editor but who is well known in the industry, Kelli Collins. She taught me so much and I can’t thank her enough.
Small-town mechanic and tattooed bad boy Travis keeps his profile low, his needs satisfied outside the city limits, and his business running smoothly. He doesnât cause trouble and he certainly doesnât want any.
Trouble finds him one scorching afternoon, however, in the form of the equally scorching Arabella Drake. The former heiress owes Travis for car repairs, money she canât readily pay.
Their situation requires a creative solution, and while most of the town rejects Bella, Travis wants to ravish her. He offers a proposal, one that will soften the repair costsâand satisfy Travisâ longstanding wish to have Bella Drake naked, writhing and sliding down on every inch of him.
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Excerpt:
âTwenty-five hundred dollars?â Bellaâs lips barely moved over the words. Her throat closed and nausea rolled through her belly. If she said anything more, her breakfast of toast and coffee from several hours earlier were going to be all over the garage floor. They probably wouldnât even notice, given the stains of oil, gasoline and what she could only hope were other car fluids dotting the concrete.
She supposed it could be the fumes making her lightheaded. She wasnât used to such strong, bitter smells.
âClose,â he said, looking down at his clipboard. âTwenty-five hundred, sixty-seven dollarsâŚâ He looked up again, giving a benign smile. âAnd thirty-nine cents.â
Bella met his gaze. Travis. He was as gorgeous as ever. His cobalt eyes held no hint of emotion, no matter the sarcasm that dripped from his lips.
Tattoos covered his arms and disappeared under his short-sleeve shirt and drifted up the sides of his neck. Black hair brushed his collar and was so dark that in the right light, one could swear it shown blue. He was tall, broad yet lean-hipped, and sheâd wondered for years what his rough mechanicâs hands would feel like on her skin.
Sheâd had a secret crush on him when she was growing up. Sheâd see him around town and out on the lake, but they were from two different worlds and though their paths rarely crossed, when he was near, she was always acutely aware of him.
âIâŚI donât have access to that kind of money anymore, Travis,â she said quietly. No thanks to my brother. Humility seemed to be her new best friend, but in front of Travis? That was a new level she wasnât exactly comfortable with.
Heat bloomed in her cheeks, but she was just stubborn enough not to look away. She wanted to get out of here, run as far as she could, but there was nowhere to go, no place for her to hide. And now, thanks to the transmission in her car, no way for her to get anywhere. She squared her shoulders and swallowed past the queasiness.
âThatâs as low as I can go, Bella.â
Bella sighed. âThat low or going lower or raising the number doesnât matter. Not even the sixty-seven thirty-nine. At least not until payday.â Her voice didnât shake and she was proud of that. He was sexier than a man ought to be, but she wouldnât let that distract her. âCan you hold the car for a little while? At least a couple of days?â
âI take credit cards.â
âReally?â She didnât roll her eyes, but the sarcasm in her tone couldnât be mistaken. âTravisâŚâ  This wasnât the first time sheâd come up against this argument. âI donât use credit cards anymore.â
âAnd I donât generally hold cars for anyone other than friends. The lot is pretty small, you see,â he observed, looking over her shoulder out the bay door. âI donât want legit customers thinking I canât take care of them because thereâs a fancy piece sittinâ out front.â
She ignored his emphasis on the word âpieceâ and fought the suddenly strong urge to kick him. She turned her head and followed his line of sight.
The front of the garage had a small parking area, but there was also room out back he used. âItâs a Cadillac. People drive them all the time. Please, Travis. Just a couple of days until I get paid on Friday.â
âPleaseâ had become the most-used word in her vocabulary. Sheâd always used it, along with thank you, excuse me, yes maâam and no sir among, other courteous terms, but they had all taken on whole new meanings since she was no longer the heiress who lived in a mansion.
Their gazes locked again and he didnât seem moved by her plea.
âIt was all I could do to get it here this morning. It kept dying anytime I got it over forty. I donât have any way to get it back to the lake or anywhere else to keep it.â
He heaved a sigh. âUntil Friday. Not a day later.â
Relief swamped her and she smiled. âFriday. Yes. Th-thank you, Travis. Thank you.â It was a small battle but sheâd won. âI have to get back to the flower shop, but Iâll be in touch Friday when I get off work.â She spun on her heel, heart thumping wildly in her chest at the victory. Of course, her mind whirled with the fact that it would take longer than two days to get the money, but one step at a time.
His voice from behind abruptly stopped her forward progress. She was thankful that she didnât stumble over herself.
âDo you need a ride?â
Lust flooded her, but Bella masked her surface reaction before facing him again. Oh yes, sheâd love a ride. A long, hard, naked ride. On him. He hadnât moved closer but heat flared between them. Maybe he wasnât as indifferent as heâd have her believe. âN-no. I walked here. I can walk back. I donât want to owe you any more than I already do.â
Travis shrugged. âSuit yourself. Have a good day then.â
I hope you will enjoy reading more about Travis and Bella… And please, whether or not you like and enjoy it, I would appreciate if you’d leave a review at the e-tailer of your purchase.
Now, as a little bit of a special treat, my friend Sabrina York also has an Ellora’s Cave release today. Dark Duke. What an intriguing and sexy title. I’m currently reading the first book in this series, Dark Fancy.
If youâre new to the series, download Sabrinaâs free teaser book at http://sabrinayork.com/home-2/sabrina-yorks-teaser-book/ to read blurbs and excerpts for this popular series. Each book in the series is a stand-alone story.
Noble Passions, Book Three
Edward Wyeth, the Dark Duke of Moncrieffâs life has been turned on its end. His well-ordered home has been invaded. By destitute relatives. From Scotland. How on earth can he write Lord Hedonâs salacious novels with hellions battling in the garden and starting fires in the library? But with the onslaught has come a delicious diversion. His cousinâs companion, the surprisingly intriguing Kaitlin MacAllister. He is determined to seduce her. Using her desperate need for funds and her talents as an artist, he convinces her to draw naughty pictures for his naughtier booksâŚand he draws her into his decadent web.
But Kaitlin has a secret. Sheâs fled Scotlandâand a very determined betrothed. When Edwardâs cousin is kidnapped and held in her stead, Kaitlin is honor-bound to return to her homeland and rescue herâmuch to Edwardâs chagrin.
Because suddenly he canât bear the thought of Kaitlin marrying another man. He canât bear the thought of losing her at all.
A RomanticaÂŽ Regency historical erotic romance from Elloraâs Cave
Buy Links: Amazon | Ellora’s Cave
Excerpt:
Edward skirted the mĂŞlĂŠe in the garden and made his way to the far end of the estate, where there was nothing but flowers and trees and a placid little pond. Nothing to attract diminutive fiends bent on mischief. He would sit in the folly until his temperature returned to normal.
Perhaps until spring.
Dear God. Heâd had no idea having the Wyeths of Perth take over his house would be such a nightmare. If he had suspected as much, he would have turned them away at the start. They would probably have crawled in under the door. Through the cracks in the flue. Vermin had a way of finding entrance.
But now. Now they were here.
Entrenched.
He had to get rid of them.
Perhaps he could send them back to Scotland.
Scotland would revile him for it, but he had little use for rocky tors, lochs and sheep.
Then he thought of Violet and his heart lurched. It would crush her to be trundled back to what she referred to as âthe bleak wilderness.â She was looking forward to a glittering season in London. She was seventeen. She needed a husband. A husband of quality. That might be difficult to find in the wilds of Scotland.
And Ned. Ned was twenty. He was just starting to find his way with the ton. Heâd made some friendsâdecent fellows. Heâd even been receiving invitations to game at Whiteâs.
The two of themâthe normal twoâdeserved better than being lumped in with the rest.
He whacked at a rosebud as he passed. It exploded into a flutter of petals. He refused to feel any sympathy.
He couldnât send them packing.
Then what?
Hell. He was a duke of the realm. He had six houses spread throughout the empire. Why hadnât he thought to purchase a spare in London?
Aha!
That was brilliant.
He would. Heâd buy them their own house. Move them all, lock stock andâwell, maybe not the barrels, as the older boys did like to drink. Heâd move them all into their own domicile.
With Aunt Hortense. Let her manage them.
His life would once again be orderly. He would be the master of his own abode. Free to pursue the life of a wealthy dilettante.
Perfect.
He rounded the bend with a satisfied smile on his face. The trickle of the fountain in the pond was a balm to his tormented soul. Birds sang in the trees. The sunâwell, it almost shone. It was a beautiful day.
Soon, the world would be right again.
Soon, they would all be gone.
He skipped up the steps of the folly with a lightness of heart he hadnât felt in ages. A book on the bench snagged his attention and his mood dipped, but only a bit. Someone had been here. But they were gone.
He picked it up and flipped through it and stilled.
Good God.
It was a sketch book.
The first page was an attempt at this scene. The flowers and trees, the pond and the little fountain. Not very good. But the second arrested his attention. It was a simple line drawing of Violet. And it was stunning. The artist had managed to depict her beauty, but also captured that glint in her eye, the particular quirk of her lips. Her soul.
The next sketch was one of Ned, showing a brash young man, standing insouciantly with his hands shoved into his pockets, whistling a silent tune. The next was of the twinsâwhatever their names wereâdark heads together plotting some manner of mayhem.
It was so realistic Edward expected them to leap from the page and whack him with a cricket bat.
But it was the last sketch in the book that stole his breath. It was a portrait, in profile. His own face. But not an Edward he would ever recognize. This man was heroic, tragic, a solitary soldier. It was only a few lines drawn in charcoal, but it revealed so much about him. Things he didnât want anyone to ever know.
It was horrifying. And remarkable.
âYour Grace.â
He snapped the book shut and spun around.
Of course. Whatâs her name. The girl. The owl. From last night.
âOh, you found it.â She stepped into the folly and took the book from his hands. He did not know why he let it go.
âYou left it here.â An accusation. Really? He hadnât intended for it to come out like that.
She chuckled. âI had to go rescue Hamish. I was coming back.â
âWhatâŚwhy did you have to rescue Hamish?â This was her work? She saw him like that? And hell, she was a damn fine hand. How he would love to turn such talent toâŚdarker purposes. What a pity she was such a prude. The kind of work he could offer her would make her richârich enough to quit serving as Violetâs companion.
But she would never do it. No decent woman would.
He must be crazed, truly crazed, to even think on it.
The gripping sketch of his wounded countenance lingered in his brain. If she could do that, if she could see through to his soul and bring it to life on paperâ
âAnd then he got stuck. In the tree. So I had to rescue him.â
Lord. Sheâd been talking. Heâd missed the entire explanation. No matter. The question had been purely rhetorical.
âHow long have you been drawing?â
She winced, clutched the book to her breast. He recalled what fine breasts they were. âI⌠What?â
âHow long have you been drawing? Youâre quite good.â
âYou looked at my book?â She squawked as though heâd just admitted to peering up her skirts. The lemony face returned. A beetled brow and pursed lips. It was, upon reflection, rather adorable.
âIt was lying here.â
âYou shouldnât look at someoneâs sketchbook.â
âYou shouldnât leave it where it can be found.â He crossed his arms over his chest and grinned at her. Damn, he loved her accent.
She sputtered. âI told you. Hamish and Tayââ
âTay?â
âTaylor. Hamish and Taylor were building a fort in a treeââ
âYes. Yes. I know. You had to rescue him. Tell me, have they always been this much trouble?â
She blew out a breath. âYou have no idea.â
They both laughed. It was a nice moment, because it seemed, for that brief flash of time, they were friends, bound in mutual misery.
And then he went and ruined it by letting his lust intrude. âSo tell me, what did you think of that book?â
She tipped her head. âWhat book?â
âThe one I gave you last night.â
She blinked several times, as though she had to try very hard to remember. âOh. That book. I didnât read it.â
He stepped closer. âAh. You like to look at the pictures, then?â He knew the sort.
âLook at the⌠What? No, your Graceââ
âEdward.â He infused his voice with a low thrum.
âYour Grace. I didnât have a chance to open it.â
Why petulance curled within him, he had no clue. âWhat do you mean you didnât have a chance to open it?â She was supposed to have read it. Or at least looked at the pictures. She was supposed to be gazing at him, right now, with a dewy look.
She brushed an invisible speck from her skirt. âThere wasâŚa distraction.â
Well hell. âWhat kind of distraction?â
Her lips pursed. The look she shot him was not dewy in the slightest.
Still, he wanted to kiss her.
He wasnât sure why. She was certainly not the most beautiful woman heâd ever seen. But her face had character and charmâespecially when she smiled. Her figure was fullâthe way he liked themâbut she didnât show it off to its best effect. In fact, if he hadnât known what lay beneath the thick layers of crinoline and bombazine, he would have been fooled. She was prickly as a hedgehog and smacked him down at every turn.
So why did he want to pull her into his arms and smother her mouth with his?
Perhaps because of all those things.
Then again, perhaps just because.
So he did.
He took the girlâwhose name he could not remember, whose face he could not forgetâinto his arms and kissed her. It was a gentle buss, as kisses went, but extremely sublime. Because heâd surprised her.
Her lips were open, as though poised to speak. He took full advantage, sweeping in his tongue to dab at hers, nibbling and licking and tasting her sweet breath.
The prick at his side was not a surprise. Heâd expected it.
He lifted his head and stared down into her eyes. Her expression was dazed and determined and perhaps a little dewy. âNot this time, darling,â he murmured. He took the knife from her hand and tossed it aside and then pulled her more fully against him.
And ah. She was soft. Sweet. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Her hips molded the cradle of his groin. Of course, he was the one doing the molding, but she didnât fight him.
No. She sighed and tipped her head to the side so he could deepen the kiss. She tasted like ambrosia. A tantalizing flavor of cinnamon and woman and surrender. His ardor rose, and with it, his cock. He rubbed it against her belly.
She stiffened and tried to push away, muttering something into his mouth that sounded like âNo.â
He changed his tack, running his lips down her cheek and along the line of her jaw to nestle in the crook of her neck. She shuddered. Some groan-like sound emanated from her throat. She clutched at his hair.
Thusly encouraged, he sucked at the tender skin of her neck. Nipped.
âOh! Saints preserve us,â she whispered.
âThe saints donât care,â he responded, switching to the other side of her neck. He found a spot that delighted her even more and feasted there. In her distraction, she didnât stop the palm skimming over her ribs to cup a breast.
He encased her. Ah. Exquisite. Full and round and pliable. He thumbed a nipple, testing its rigidity. She dipped as her knees gave way. He caught her. Swung her up in his arms and carried her to the bench.
From long experience, he knew better than to give a woman a moment to think. So as soon as he had her settled across his lap and firmly braced against the wall of the folly, he kissed her again. With one hand, he stroked her nipples while with the other, he slowly drew up her skirts.
About Sabrina York
Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York is the award winning author of over 20 hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy erotic romance to scorching BDSM. Connect with her on twitter @sabrina_york, on Facebook or on Pintrest. Check out Sabrinaâs books and read an excerpt on Amazon or wherever e-books are sold. Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests. Free Teaser Book: http://sabrinayork.com/home-2/sabrina-yorks-teaser-book/ And donât forget to enter to win the royal tiara!
For one commentor, I’m going to be giving away a copy of Slide Down On Me, and Sabrina’s Dark Duke… Mine is contemporary, her’s is historical, both are scorching hot!
What was the first romance you can remember reading?
by Mlissa | Jan 22, 2014 | Uncategorized
First of all, I have another of those books coming out soon. Slide Down On Me. Oh yes, the hero is a bad boy and he’s all tattoos and piercings and naughtiness. You’ll adore him!
The release date for Slide Down On Me is February 12th. Mark your calendars. You can see it on the Ellora’s Cave Coming Soon page, here. I’ll be updating my website page for it soon.
Ever since writing Simple Need and the unbelievable response to it and to Vinter, I have loved, hear me, LOVED writing these tattooed, pierced, very dirty heros. They’ve got sex on their minds and curvy women in their arms. They’re the bad boys every woman dreams of, at least once in her life, and they’re looking to corrupt the good girl.
Grease is a good example. Danny and Sandy.
Dirty Dancing is another one. Johnny and Frances ‘Baby’.
Billy Joel sang about it in Only The Good Die Young and Uptown Girls.
There are other, more recent examples, but…why look away from the classics? Elvis swung and gyrated his hips and all the girls
swooned.
The bad boys are who we desire, even as we date the suits. (Though, don’t get me wrong, a man in a suit is delicious all on his own).
I love writing about the bad boys like Vinter, Jaz, Dallon (poor man just gets no love), Brax, and now, Travis. I always have a bad boy in my pocket, ready to come out and play with my readers.
There’s something about their rough-edged ways, their scratchy hands, their wicked smiles, their ink, their language, their Come Play With Me winks… They have stories to tell and soft hearts to give to that special girl. They don’t want the one who’s been around the block, they want the one who needs what only they have to offer. They’ll heal a broken heart, they’ll leave a woman satisfied and wanting more, they’ll fight for what they want but they won’t beg.
I love these men that I’ve created and it makes me grin that you love them too.
I have a plan for a new self-published series about the tattooed bad boys and as soon as it’s more developed, I’ll let you in on it. I’m planning a free read that will go into my Newsletter for those who want to know what happens once Joe gets back to Love and Tattoos and finds Brax and Annie.
And, I know y’all are waiting for more Simple Need books and the plan had been to finish Mac and Jackie’s story and turn it in, however, due to some issues that I am not at liberty to discuss, that plan is on hold, indefinitely. If you wish to email me to express your disgruntlement about this development, I’ll understand. Believe me, I am not happy with it either, but it is the right thing at this time.
The new series that I am planning will hopefully make up for any lack that you feel. Again, when I have more details, they will be given to you, i.e. cover, title, blurb, release date, etc…
These types of books are my favorite to write (especially if I can add some food into them) and I just adore these heros. Not to say I don’t love writing my cowboys and the shifters that I’m working on as well, because well, let’s just say, there’s nothing wrong with any of them… They’re all hot and bothered and delicious. 
Being that Slide Down On Me is coming out later than expected, it will push the release of The Sticky Cowgirl back a couple of weeks to the end of February/early March. I am trying not to group releases too close together for both my sanity and your wallet, but mainly my sanity. And, yeah, your wallet. While I want to flood you with books to read, a little time to breathe between hot men is a good thing. I don’t want y’all needing oxygen tanks. Or…maybe I do…

Small-town mechanic and tattooed bad boy Travis keeps his profile low, his needs satisfied outside the city limits, and his business running smoothly. He doesnât cause trouble and he certainly doesnât want any. Trouble finds himone scorching afternoon, however, in the form of the equally scorching Arabella Drake. The former heiress owes Travis for car repairs, money she canât readily pay.
Their situation requires a creative solution, and while most of the town rejects Bella, Travis wants to ravish her. He offers a proposal, one that will soften the repair costsâand satisfy Travisâ longstanding wish to have Bella Drake naked, writhing and sliding down on every inch of him.
~lissa