Cover Reveal for Natalie Acres

COMING TO SIREN-BOOKSTRAND

Watch for Screw Me Sideways, a Cowboy Sex CLINK story 

New MM Vampire Paranormal Available for Pre-Orders

Hey there! 

I'm thrilled to announce that LIVING COLD, Book One is available now for pre-orders. 

The Living Cold vampires originated from Russia and have an unusual trait...one you'll enjoy reading more about. 

Check out Living Cold Book One: Hell to the Damned!!!

 

Story Excerpt:

Felix stared at the rounded lips hovering over his. Colburn’s mouth looked like pure sin, and Felix was smart enough to know that one kiss would lead to another and then one more would soon follow. He’d enjoyed lovers before. He’d been in bed with his share of Colburns.

He’d lost control before and knew what it felt like to unravel like thread from a spool, yarn from a spindle. Ravenous affairs were brutal on the body and damaging to the soul.

Fellows like Colburn never stayed for longer than a minute. The sex was often hot and satisfying, but immortals like Colburn only offered their services. They weren’t interested in forfeiting more than a certain block of time.

At Felix’s age, he was more cautious than he had been in the past. If he took a leap outside his comfort zone, he wanted that jump to count. He longed for the start of an enduring relationship.

Maybe Felix was old school, but he’d had his heart broken enough to understand what he wanted. He wouldn’t settle for anything less.

“I have guests waiting,” Felix said, his nostrils flaring as Colburn’s hot breath stung his lips.

“I can ruin a good time, Felix.” His statement sounded like a solemn oath. “How about I tell your guests what I’d really like to do with you? Would you like that?” His thumb grazed Felix’s lips. “Would you, lover?”

Felix shivered. His cock thrummed in his trousers. His balls tightened. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can.”

“No,” Felix argued. “You like stirring problems. You’re known for capers such as this.”

“And you have the reputation for living large.” Colburn shot him a wink. “We both have our flaws.”

 “If you see me as a flawed individual, then I can assure you with absolute conviction that I’m not interested in that kiss, Mr. Cay. Nor will I entertain a kiss or any connection with you in the future.”

“Such a stiff dick,” Colburn grumbled.

Without meaning to, Felix glanced down. The large hump in Colburn’s slacks tantalized his curiosity. He wasn’t easily sidetracked, but the bulge in Colburn’s trousers was enough to throw him off his original intended course.

Unable to take that first step and walk away, he grew more anxious. There was something more than slight curiosity binding him to Colburn Cay. He felt as if he had become Colburn’s hostage, yet he was certain Colburn couldn’t glamour him, not in the truest sense anyway. “Why are you here, Mr. Cay?”

Colburn clucked. “For some reason, I want to say I was invited.”

“You were invited to a birthday party for a host you don’t know with guests you clearly detest. Why did you accept the invitation?”

“I’m a social person.”

“Person?”

“Yes, I am,” Colburn smugly assured him.

“You’re obnoxious.”

“I’m insulted.”

“You should be. And should the need to leave arise, your coat is in the closet here in the hallway.”

Colburn’s lips twitched. “I’ll keep that in mind, should the need arise.” He then looked down at his stretching slacks and added, “And it might, Felix.”

“I want you to go.” Felix immediately checked over his shoulder. If his sister had happened upon them, she would’ve been appalled.

A slow smile crept across Colburn’s lips. “You don’t like me because I’m like you.”

“I’m nothing like you.”

“Oh yeah?” Before Felix could brace for the assault, Colburn jolted forward. He bracketed his arm around Felix’s waist and placed his full lips next to Felix’s ear.

Releasing a spell-binding breath, Colburn asked, “Does blood pump through your veins, Felix? Does your heart race at one hundred and fifty beats per minute? Does it race at all when you’re excited?” Colburn’s tongue slivered down the shell of Felix’s ear. “Tell me. Are you alive with fervor or a dead man walking? Has anyone ever made you feel more alive than you feel right now?”

A double-dose of toxic arousal sped through Felix’s body. He tried to break their close connection, but Colburn secured his grip around Felix’s neck.

“Let me go.”

“If I do?” Colburn smirked. “Then what?”

“We rejoin the party,” Felix suggested, though entertaining his guests ranked low on his list of things he’d like to do at that moment.

“There’s an idea. We’ll walk back in the dining room and act as if nothing happened between us.”

“Easy enough since nothing happened between us.”

Colburn winked. “Don’t hold your breath, lover. The best is yet to come.”

 http://www.bookstrand.com/hell-to-the-damned

Sneak Peek at my Upcoming Release - Impetuous

Coming January 10th to the Bookstrand shelves, Impetuous [Incessant Passions 1].

You can pre-order this title now at a 10% discount. 

The Callaway Corporation recently bought the high-end resort property Jenny Jacobson manages. In that time, they have micromanaged both her and it into the ground. With no budget for repairs, she does most of the work herself. She proves to be pretty handy with most of the daily mishaps, until she meets the mysterious drifter Thomas Beck. 

In the middle of a plumbing emergency, Beck comes to her rescue and fixes the problem, saving her from further disaster and costly repairs. Despite her best attempts, she cannot seem to get away from this man who shows up at every turn.

Regardless of her cold treatment toward him, he turns on his charms. Will his cocky arrogance mixed with his sexy smile break down her tough exterior? If so, what secrets is Beck keeping that could ultimately ruin any chance they have to find happiness together?

  

SEXY SNEAK PEEK

She wanted to see him again, but had no idea if she ever would. He could have already moved on and be long gone. Without so much as a good-bye, this morning may have been the last time she’d ever see the mysterious man who came into her life out of nowhere to seduce her.

The truth was, she wanted to do much more with him again than just lay eyes on him. She wanted to feel his touch, his kiss, the way he felt when he was thrusting inside of her. The memory, the images in her mind, it was all too much for her libido to handle. Her nipples pebbled in the confines of her bra and her panties became moist, dampened with her body’s ache for more.

Be the First to read the opening pages to Sweet Affliction...

Sweet Awakenings Book 4 (Navy SEALs Series) - Available May 1st

Chapter 1

He dove in the water as bullets sprayed against the waves. Applying pressure to his side, he kicked and tried to achieve more distance than depth between him and the men firing at him. He swam under the boat and to the other side so they wouldn’t have a chance to hit him again. What the fuck had just happened? How had he gone from enjoying a cold beer with a former teammate to watching a trail of blood drip from his forehead and nearly two dozen men carrying an arsenal of weapons boarding the small yacht? He ignored the gut-wrenching realization that his friend of nearly twenty years was dead. The cold stare of shock in Tom’s face as he fell forward told him he was killed instantly. A single shot from a sniper had taken out a man who served his country for over twenty years while managing to live to tell about it.

The whizzing sound of bullets hitting the water was becoming more distant. Despite being hit he was still a strong swimmer. His training had saved his life more than once, and this time proved to be no different. If his bearings were right and he wasn’t disoriented from blood loss, he’d estimate that he was about two miles from shore. If he swam around the south peninsula of the island, that would put him far out of the sights of whomever the hell was shooting at him. It would mean at least a three-mile swim. With blood loss and pain it wasn’t going to be easy, but he’d survived worse than this before so he had no doubts that this time would be no different.

Exhausted and starting to feel light-headed, he tried not to panic. He had to remain focused. One thing he learned was that if he rested to float for even a moment he would tire even more so and never continue on. While he hoped the men firing at him assumed they were successful in their attempts to kill him as well, he couldn’t be too careful. They could be scouring the dark waters with a spotlight looking for any sign of him.

The shore was in his sights now. He kept on, kicking with everything that he had despite the burn in his muscles. If he was able to use his full strength it probably wouldn’t be so strenuous on him, but having to hold his side in an effort to diminish some of the pain left him somewhat handicapped.

When he was so close to the shore his kicks met with more sand than distance he finally rested, allowing the surf to carry him the rest of the way. His mouth filled with sand as his body swept up to the soft beach. He laid there for a moment, breathless and physically spent. The pain from his right side where the bullet hit was radiating to his arm, rendering it useless. It took all his will to use his other arm, the muscles still burning from his several-mile swim. He crawled farther up the beach, not wanting to chance the waves that carried him in to safety pulling him right back out again. There was a small opening against the cliff. It was only a few yards away but seemed to be so much farther.

He crawled to what would be his shelter for the night. Echoes of his BUD/S instructors shouting at him for being a pussy swam in his mind. He was a United States Navy SEAL for Christ’s sake. Well at least for another month until he retired, that is. He was trained to never give up. What would they tell him in training? Take off your girlie panties and swim like a man with your balls swaying free in the water. It was a dumb-ass analogy, but it served the purpose at the time when he’d heard it. He had survived BUD/S training and twenty years in Naval Special Warfare. A measly bullet wound in his right side wouldn’t be the death of him.

Somehow he managed to pull his shirt off. He couldn’t remember a time when he was this tired. Everything he’d ever experienced seemed like a drop in the bucket compared to this.

The events of the past several hours flashed through his head. He arrived in town by small plane to meet up with Tom who had just begun to celebrate his retirement. Living large on the open sea he had called it. They ate some steaks that Tom’s onboard cook had managed to charbroil to near perfection while enjoying a couple of cold Coronas. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He still had two days on his leave, so the two had planned to fish and do nothing much of anything else.

He shook his head as he replayed the events in his mind. None of it made sense. He was damn good at sensing danger. Hell, they both were. One minute they were laughing about some señorita who would hit on Tom every time he went to town, and the next the slow trail of crimson drew a line down his forehead, his eyes wide and surprised as they stared back at him.

“Fuck!”

Tom had given twenty-two years of his life to the navy. Why the hell did this have to happen a mere two weeks after his retirement? What in God’s name was going on?

Once again, playing everything back through his mind over and over, he kept looking for some sort of a sign. Something he may have missed. Still he could find nothing.

 He had only known that type of surprise killing capable of three types of men—military, mercenaries, or the mob. None of those possibilities made any sense. Tom was a decorated war hero. He had saved countless lives in leading men on various missions. The military would have no reason to want him dead, except maybe the Taliban, but these men weren’t Taliban. He couldn’t see their faces behind their grease paint, but they moved much too disciplined to be a part of that sect. That ruled out his possibility of the mob as well. Aside from the cool, calculated methods of killing, they didn’t have the physical skill to move like a trained soldier.

That was it.

A trained soldier. These men moved like military, but something was off. A military force, even Special Forces for any country, would’ve been identifiable to him in one way or another, but they weren’t. These men were former military. Mercenaries, no doubt.

The question was, why would mercenaries be after Tom? His friend had led a clean, by-the-book military career, only killing when it was required and the only means necessary. Tom never stepped on toes or used anyone to his advantage. Everyone on the teams looked up to and respected him.

Those conclusions left him with only one possibility. These were foreign mercenaries, sent from another country to shut Tom up. Why would anyone want or need a former Navy SEAL dead when he was no longer a threat to them?

Something wasn’t adding up, and he was becoming more and more tired. The blood loss was taking its toll. He needed to get medical attention, get the bullet removed and get stitched up. He was surprised he hadn’t gone into shock yet. Adrenaline had no doubt kept him going. Pushing up with his one good arm he tried to steady himself to stand. He was nearly on his feet when he collapsed from fatigue. If he just closed his eyes for a few minutes then maybe it would reenergize him. At least he hoped it would. He knew if he stayed here any longer he would either die of blood loss or those men would find him to finish the job.

It was his last thought before he saw the barrel of a gun pointing down at him and his eyes closed.

PURCHASE LINK

Note: 10% of the author royalties on this book will benefit nonprofit organizations dedicated to providing educational assistance and support grants to families of wounded and fallen United States Navy SEALs.

Spanish Eyes - getting great reviews!

I'm a very happy author right now. My historical romance, Spanish Eyes, was released Oct. 6, and already it's received two great reviews!!!



5-STARS***** In "Spanish Eyes" by Phyllis Campbell is a remarkable story of strength, romance, and determination. The sexual tension between Rebecca and Anton is so well written you feel the emotions of both characters. The story has many well written subplots that give it a fullness rarely found in romance novels. Although the sexual interactions are very explicit they are tasteful and believable. I enjoyed reading this story so much I would like to see more novels featuring these characters. This is a strong 5 star book that does not disappoint. If you curl up with this one be prepared to swoon. ~~ Marilyn Thompson / Mind Fog Reviews


5-STARS!!!! Ms. Campbell has penned a devilishly good romance with a healthy dose of suspense. The blend of intrigue, conflict, and sensual delights will have the reader hooked from the beginning. I am fascinated by the unusual type of heroine that I found in Rebecca; she is going outside the bounds of what is expected of women during this era. Her strength and tenacity combine to make her an unforgettable character. Her interaction with Anton and their ensuing relationship will keep the reader on edge wondering what might be the possible outcome, and what the journey will bring. The story is well rounded, and the secondary storylines add an extra level of enjoyment. I am already a fan of Ms. Campbell and, as usual, she does not disappoint; she has another winner in Spanish Eyes. ~~ Teagan Boyd / Bookwenches

Watch the booktrailer

**ADULT EXCERPT***

“The fact still remains our relationship is not based entirely on satisfying our desires.”

Rebecca threw him a glare. “That’s because we haven’t satisfied them at all.”

Anton’s heartbeat thudded in his chest, and his loins flared to attention. What made her speak of this? She knew how he felt. It sounded as if she wanted him to satisfy her...and this time, he wouldn’t let anything stop them.

“Then let us end the argument right now.” He took hold of her arm again, turning them toward the stairs as he led her below deck.

Her body stiffened, but she didn’t struggle. He assumed it was to keep the other passengers on the ship from watching them too closely.

“What are you doing?” Her voice rose.

“I am proving to you that sex is not the only reason I like you.”

“And how are you going to do that?”

“I am going to make love to you.”

“What? You contradict yourself, Señor Carrera.”

“No, because after I make love to you, you will see that I will remain by your side, protecting you until we prove my true identity. I will show you I do not just want you for your sweet, luscious body, whereas if Raúl had his wicked way with you, he would ignore you for the rest of the voyage.”

“Anton, please.” She squirmed, trying to release herself from his grip. But he wouldn’t let her go. He hurried below deck and to their room, closing the door behind them.

“Stop this insanity at once,” she hissed. “I will not let you do this.”

Anton stalked toward her, and she retreated. His arousal burned with the knowledge he’d get to prove his point soon. He must be insane, because all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and drug her with passion.

“Querida,” he whispered. “Do not think of it merely as a physical encounter, but as making love instead. We will be sharing not only our bodies, but our souls.”

The wall stopped her from retreating further, and she gasped. Her wide eyes searched for escape, but he closed in on her. He pinned her against the wall and rubbed provocatively against her.

First, he stroked her cheek, then brushed his fingers over her hair, pulling out the blue ribbon holding the bulk of her golden mass together. Waves cascaded over her shoulder, and he threaded his fingers through her glorious tresses. He stroked the silkiness once more before moving his fingers down each arm, continuing over her hips and thighs through her skirts.

“Querida,” he repeated, huskier this time. A craving took over his body, and he gave it free reign. “You are so beautiful, so desirable.”

She pressed her hands against his chest. “Anton, please.” Her breaths came quickly, just as his. The fast rise and fall of her chest showed her excitement. He took one of her hands and brought it to his mouth.

“I want to kiss every inch of your body.” He brushed his lips over her fingertips, and drew each finger into his mouth as he suckled.

“Anton.” Her voice softened.

She would stop him. But he must not let her. Not this time.

Anton turned her hand over and kissed her palm, running his tongue to her wrist. When he looked into her eyes, those golden flecks blazed with passion’s fire. He took her hands and placed them back on his chest, sliding them up and down his torso.

“Touch me, Becca.” Over the erratic beat of his heart, he flattened her hand. “Do you feel that? Can you tell how excited you make me?”

“Antonio—” she mouthed, her lids lowered half-mast, focusing on his lips.

This woman excited him more than any other, and once again, he couldn’t resist her. He placed his mouth over hers, and she opened for his probing tongue. A sigh released from her throat before her tongue mated with his. Although anxiety rushed through him, he also wanted to take it slow. This was her first time, and he didn’t want to hurry the moment.

Keeping his mouth pressed to hers, he shrugged out of his jacket. He hurriedly removed his neck-cloth and unbuttoned his shirt. When he broke the kiss, her attention dipped to his chest as he exposed himself. Excitement surged through him, making him want to continue. Shrugging free of the silk shirt, he let it fall to the floor.

Her hands explored his bare chest, spreading pleasure over him. Pleasure he wanted to drown in. He closed his eyes. Soft, delicate hands touched the muscles on his neck, his breast, then lower to his stomach, only stopping when her palms came to his trousers. Inside the material, his arousal pulsed with anticipation, but she didn’t stray there. Instead, her hands wandered back up, retracing their path.

When her fingers slid over his erect nipples, he opened his eyes. Fascination displayed on her face. Her amber orbs were heated, and she licked her lips. She bent her head and pressed her lips to the small patch of hair on his chest. Groaning, he closed his eyes. Heavy breaths escaped between his teeth, but he let her do with him as she wished.

To purchase –


~Phyllis~

Praise for Forbidden Heart

Hi all!

This caught me completely by surprise. I have a tendency to Google my name every now and again, probably when I should be writing, lol. I'm happy I did because I came across the Romance Junkies "Debut Titles that Rock" and what a surprise it was to see my paranormal romance Forbidden Heart listed. Needless to say, I'm extremely humbled and very excited about it.

You can check it out at http://www.romancejunkies.com/rjblog/

Hugs!

Kara

Here's the blurb from Forbidden Heart.

Blurb:

His curse brings love and heartache. . .

The moment Shaye sees Moira, he is sure she will break his two hundred-year- old curse. It doesn't take long for Shaye to fall in love with this magnificent human woman, but proving his love is more difficult.

Moira is piecing her broken heart and broken life together when Shaye storms in and whisks her away on a fairytale adventure. Accepting his mythological nature--half human, half faerie--is disturbingly easy. Accepting his promise of forever seems ludicrous, as much as her heart beats to believe in him.

Daeanna is the daughter of Dagda, king of the Tuatha de Danann, and she is hell-bent on keeping what is rightfully hers: Shaye. Rejecting any possibility that Moira might be his true soul mate, Daeanna is determined to keep them apart...whatever the cost.

Love has never been so powerful, greed never so hideous. In worlds infused with beauty, magic and peace, can nightmares be banished and deceit be justified? Can love truly conquer all?

Free Read

~Silapa Jarun~

THE SWEET SMELL OF SMURFCESS

The Sweet Smell of Smurfcess

It was my birthday last Sunday. How old am I now? Dream on! All I’m willing to reveal is that in the past decade, the state of my eyesight can no longer be associated with regal birds featuring giant wing spans. Nowadays, without my glasses, my sight is reminiscent of nocturnal flying rodents with inverted sleeping habits.

Basically, I can see the big picture, but not the small print. This is a drag, of course, but since I’m not one to mooch on the drab side of life, I’ve decided to embrace the positive aspects of hypermetropia. Lens-less, when I look in the mirror, although I don’t feel an irrepressible urge to float my arms into the air, pick up my skirts and twirl away trilling “I feel pretty”, I don’t gasp with horror and dash off to dial 1-800-Nip/Tuck either. Sans lunettes, my fine lines, my not-so-fine lines, my crow’s feet, assorted dry patches and random dodgy bits are magically Photoshopped. Generally, first thing in the morning (when I need all the Photoshopping I can get), I enjoy tripping around the house with reality pleasantly out of focus. I’ll have breakfast with my family and, once they’ve left, I’ll hop in the shower and reach for my familiar soaps and gels, my shampoos and conditioners. Then, pink and fresh and squeaky clean, I’ll slap on some moisturizer, get dressed, put my glasses on, do some tidying up and then head for my office, with my two little dogs pattering along behind me.

But last Monday began rather differently. I’d had a busy birthday weekend, and with my first book release scheduled for Tuesday, I knew the days ahead were bound to be even busier. Consequently, I decided to treat myself to a slow start and stayed in bed a little longer. The house was empty when I finally got up and made myself a mug of tea. Feeling a little risqué, I took my mug back to bed and read a book for half an hour while the dogs lay on the bedside rug, snoring. It was lovely!

It was so lovely that when I finally rolled out of bed, I went into published author/glamour puss mode, opting for a long morning soak in the bath instead of my usual quick fix in the shower. Besides, I had some nice new goodies to heighten my bathing experience; my family and friends know I’m a sucker for bubbles and crystals and oils, and had lavishly indulged me over the weekend. I reckoned I’d slip into the age of literary success, sophistication and maturity by relaxing in hot, perfumed water.

Channeling Nora Roberts, Jackie Collins and various other literary sirens, I lit a lilac scented candle, put on some soft music and tuned on the taps. I’d like to say I shimmied out of my champagne colored silk negligee, but that would be a lie, so I’m going to admit to struggling out my old flannel PJs. I stepped into the tub and reached for a brand new bottle of ocean blue bath crystals with a big, stylized fish on its label. While Spanish guitar music wafted from the CD player, and multicolored leaves danced outside my window in the cold November wind, I unscrewed the bottle-top and poured a ribbon of ultra fine, cerulean salts into the water. Drifting in a Caribbean blue, I lay back, closed my eyes and relaxed, my long hair spreading out around me like a mermaid’s. I inhaled a somewhat pungent, steamy blue bliss, opened my eyes, lifted one foot and, with my big toe, drew a blue circle above the surface of the water on the far end of the bathtub.

“Wow, what brilliant bath salts!” I mused, languidly sketching a lopsided heart. Was this some sort of multitasking formula, designed to stimulate people’s artistic skills while they bathed? Wonders never cease! I lay daydreaming for a while, then sat up and doodled a daisy with one finger, my hair dribbling blue rivulets down my body…

Wait a minute! Blue rivulets dribbling down my body?

Perplexed, I stood up and squinted at myself in the large mirror opposite the bath and nearly burst my Botoxed brow. Was this some kind of joke? What the devil was in these bath salts? Why was I Smurf blue from my head to my toes? More alarmingly, why was I so horribly itchy? And – crikey! – was I going to have to repaint the bathroom to match the streaky, marbled, speckled, bright blue bath before my husband came home that evening?

Nora Roberts, Jackie Collins and the rest of the sirens immediately decided they had more important things to do. They cleared their throats, wished me well and left, leaving me floundering in Smurf City, naked, lost and all alone.

Whimpering, I pulled the plug and jumped out, leaping straight into the shower cubicle. I turned on the water and stood under the deluge, scrubbing myself with soap, dredging my Smurf hair in shampoo, anxiously watching the colored water drain away. To my relief, eventually (and I mean mucho eventually) the water ran clear, so I stepped out and wrapped myself in a towel, wincing as the thick cotton came into contact with various particularly irritated areas of my anatomy. Muttering under my breath, I slathered my skin in ultra-soothing, one hundred percent organic body lotion, grabbed the incriminated bottle, went into my bedroom, found my glasses and zeroed in on the label.

And promptly had another panic attack.

This elaborately packaged, fishily decorated bottle did not contain bath salts, but chemically colored sand to be used strictly for decorative purposes.

“Avoid contact with skin” warned the initial small print, before yelling, “DO NOT INHALE!”. This was followed by an endless list of diabolical chemicals in a microscopic font that stubbornly defied my nocturnal rodent eyesight, specs or no specs.

If my skin had been crawling before, it was now formicating. I could feel my pores oozing carcinogenic substances. My pulse galloped off into a red, raw, apocalyptic future. I raced back into the bathroom and plunged back into the shower where I remained for a good part of the morning, emerging only to ring my Mama.

“You’d better go and scrub the bath; Cedric’ll have a fit!” she gasped, after I’d poured out my Smurf woes.

“But…what about my skin?” I bleated

“Oh, you’ll be all right! Rub on some Nivea, and take a couple of drops of Fenistil. Now, have you got any bleach? You’re going to have to fill the bath with cold water, and then…”

Cedric didn’t have a fit. By the time he came home, the entire house reeked of bleach, the bath had never been whiter and I was high on a cocktail of bleach vapors and antihistamines. The kids were blasting the hastily downloaded Smurf song on the stereo, openly mocking me. When I told Cedric my Smurf story, he just chuckled. “Didn’t you read the label?” he said, then began his usual evening routine of striding up and down, straightening bedcovers, plumping up pillows, shutting cupboard doors, aligning magazines and books. My husband is lovely, but he’s a bit of a neat freak.

“The bottle had a bloody fish on it!” I protested. “I just assumed…”

But he’d already gone to empty the dishwasher. I retrieved my glasses from beneath the fiesta of papers, chocolate wrappers, biscuit crumbs, coffee cups, eye drops, school forms, hair elastics and other flotsam squatting my desk, bunged them on and smurfed into the kitchen to make dinner.

There’s a new pink Post-It on the pin-board above my computer. It reads: “Welcome to the age of literary success, sophistication and maturity. Don’t count your chickens without your glasses on.”

Thank you for the warm welcome. Yes, I’m a published author. Now, if only I could get the Smurf Song out of my head…

Francesca Prescott
"MUCHO CALIENTE! - Wish upon a Latino Superstar"
An effervescent romantic comedy, available now
http://www.francescaprescott.com/
Mucho Caliente! - BookStrand.com

My cover for "Mucho Caliente!"

Hi! This is my gorgeous new cover for my upcoming romantic comedy, "Mucho Caliente!", scheduled for release in November 2008. I would like to thank Tiffany(Silapa Jarun) for her help and patience in helping me post this cover, since it's been a team effort. Hey, Tiffany, look! I did it!
Lots of love,
Francesca Prescott

Now Available: Reclaiming Nicola

Nicola Bourdeaux is Victor’s ultimate woman. She’s smart, beautiful, and the sweetest person he’s ever met. But when a rival firm gets a hold of confidential information and Victor loses a major lawsuit, he accuses Nicola of betraying him. His mistake leads to a major blow-up and break-up.

Victor Weise is Nicola’s ultimate man. He’s intelligent, handsome, and the most arrogant man she’s ever met. But when Victor accuses her of betrayal, Nicola is determined to a make a fresh start. She accepts an offer for a teaching position out of state, convinced she needed to get as far away as quickly as possible.

But before she leaves, she gets a request to visit the Weise residence. Hoping to gain some closure, Nicola accepts. But Victor has some tricks up his sleeve.

Will one afternoon be enough for Victor to reclaim Nicola?

Now available from BookStrand.com. Click here for an excerpt . . .

Anika Hamilton, Happy Reading
http://www.anikahamilton.com/
http://www.bookstrand.com/authors/anikahamilton/rn.asp

Reclaiming Nicola by Anika Hamilton

Nicola Bourdeaux is Victor’s ultimate woman. She’s smart, beautiful, and the sweetest person he’s ever met. But when a rival firm gets a hold of confidential information and Victor loses a major lawsuit, he accuses Nicola of betraying him. His mistake leads to a major blow-up and break-up.

Victor Weise is Nicola’s ultimate man. He’s intelligent, handsome, and the most arrogant man she’s ever met. But when Victor accuses her of betrayal, Nicola is determined to a make a fresh start. She accepts an offer for a teaching position out of state, convinced she needed to get as far away as quickly as possible.

But before she leaves, she gets a request to visit the Weise residence. Hoping to gain some closure, Nicola accepts. But Victor has some tricks up his sleeve.

Will one afternoon be enough for Victor to reclaim Nicola?

Genre: Contemporary Interracial Erotic Romance

Excerpt coming soon . . .

Happy Reading,
Anika Hamilton
http://www.anikahamilton.com/
http://www.bookstrand.com/authors/anikahamilton/

Dessert Box by Anika Hamilton

Carmella Simone and Sandra Tucker have been together for the past ten years. Every year for Valentine’s Day, one or the other is tasked with creating a memorable and passionate experience.

This is Sandra’s year and she has planned the ultimate Valentine’s Day treat. She has commissioned a specially designed box, locking herself inside. Now Carmella must figure out the clues that will unlock her gifts: Sandra and chocolate.

Join them on their erotic journey of a sweet treat and body heat.

To read an excerpt or get your own copy of Dessert Box, click here.

Happy Reading,

Anika Hamilton

http://www.anikahamilton.com

http://www.bookstrand.com/authors/anikahamilton/

IF YOU DON'T GO TO THE PARTY, YOU DON'T GET A BALLOON!

My niece Flaminia once said, “If you don’t go to the party, you don’t get a balloon.” She was only about seven or eight at the time (she’s ten now), and I doubt she realized how profound her words actually were. But her spontaneous words of wisdom reflect her personality. Flaminia is a clever, determined little girl who doesn’t just rise to challenges, she creates them. And when she goes to parties, she comes home with fistfuls of balloons.

I like balloons too. The trouble is: I’m a chicken crossed with a scaredy cat. Put me in a challenging, unfamiliar situation and I feel the fear. My half-Italian origins erupt in my armpits, my pulse risks a speed ticket, my bladder becomes super demanding. My instincts urge me to never say boo to a sparrow, let alone a goose. My list of favorite things read like that annoying song in The Sound of Music (which is now going to be stuck in my head all day… grrrr).

But life isn’t all whiskers on kittens and when the tough gets going, retail therapy doesn’t provide any answers. As my dressage teacher says (when Kwintus, my horse, has personal opinions that clash with mine), “Push him through it.” Five hundred kilos of equines opinions can be daunting, but when the argument ceases and harmony prevails, there’s no feeling like it.

“You should enter Kwintus in the competition this weekend,” said Pam, my dressage teacher’s daughter last Friday, shortly after having seen me enjoying a particularly harmonious equestrian moment. “He’s going really well. It would be a pity not to.”

My heart skipped the country and raced off along a German motorway (German motorways have no speed limits). My bladder threatened to pull the plug. What? Me? Compete? No! I suck! I don’t know the dressage program. And even if by some miracle I manage to learn it, I’ll get inside the arena and forget it. I’ll fall off. I’ll throw up in front of the judges. Besides, I’ve gained weight and my white jodhpurs won’t fit me. I need new ones (retail therapy!!!), but the shop closes in an hour and they probably won’t have my size anyway.

Pam raised an eyebrow and gave me one of her sly smiles. She’s not a chicken crossed with a scaredy cat. She’s one hundred percent lioness.


“Sure you can! Come on! Just learn the program and leave the rest up to Kwintus. He’s a pro. He’ll take care of you,” she said, striding off in her shiny boots.

My heartbeat stayed on the German autobahn. I was torn. I wanted to rise to the challenge, to show the world what a fabulous horse I have. The other half wanted to hide in a soft cozy place until the horsey weekend was over and it was safe to practice my flying changes incognito again.

But Kwintus nuzzled me. I looked into his kind, brown eyes, stroked his soft, cozy nose and decided he deserved to show off the smooth moves he’d been so generously sharing with me. With my heartbeat still powering towards Hamburg and my body as floppy as a soft toy, I staggered off to find Pam and stammered something about being up for it. Then I hopped into my car and rushed off to the horse equipment shop to buy new jodhpurs. They didn’t have my size.

Oh well! Never mind. That’s that, then! I cruised home, certain that I’d never get into my old ones. I’d just have to phone Pam and tell her I couldn’t ride the competition. Saved by excess blubber!

The old ones fit perfectly.

Panic set in again. I printed out a copy of the dressage program and started prancing around an imaginary arena in the garden while my husband looked on, shaking his head and laughing his cute little bottom off. I ignored him and continued to prance, stopping only when I was I’d been brainwashed to enter at A, halt at X, etc… I didn’t sleep well and was a basket case throughout Saturday. Heck, I couldn’t even breathe properly! All I could think about was how terrified I was about riding Kwint in front of the judges first thing Sunday morning.

But when I woke up Sunday morning, something inside me felt different. My heart had given up speeding and was gradually cruising home. I was ready to go to the party. And I really fancied a balloon…

“I can do this,” I repeated over and over to myself, driving towards the stables at the crack of dawn.

And I did. I held it together. I didn’t suck. I didn’t vomit. I didn’t fall off. And people actually cheered and clapped when I made my final salute. I dropped my reins and gave my horse a hug. I even gave him a kiss. He deserved it. And what do you know? We finished in third place, coming away with more than just a balloon.

I’m not going to wax lyrical on the moral of this story; it’s not exactly a psychological breakthrough! Nike said it all in their famous slogan: “ Just do it!”

All I’m saying is that some challenges are worth getting hot and flustered for. Winning my husband’s heart and raising a family together are obvious examples. Getting my first book, “Mucho Caliente!”, published is another example that springs to mind. I may be a chicken crossed with a scaredy cat but, increasingly, I realize I have a quiet resilience that can get me through tough moments and frustrating situations. Not only do I dare to dream, I also dare to do! It’s exhilarating, though no less terrifying. My half Italian origins will always erupt in my armpits. So what? I’ll just buy extra strength deodorant! My bladder will continue to make unreasonable demands. Pff! I’ll engage my pelvic floor! Dealing with my speed buff heart will be more of a challenge, but I’m pretty sure that, sooner or later, the German government will impose speed restrictions on its motorways. And when it does, my pulse won’t have any more reason to skip the border, and will instead cruise calmly ever after along our radar infested Swiss motorways. I hope so, because it would certainly take the edge off bringing balloons home from parties.

Take care,

Francesca Prescott

Trailer: THE TWIST, Romantic Suspense Coming July 8

The YouTube trailer for THE TWIST is finally live!

A story of mind-bending control and unnerving metamorphosis, THE TWIST unravels the tale of a hotshot consultant as he struggles to foil a plot to steal $12 million and to rescue the feisty, female scientist who has stolen his heart.

THE TWIST is scheduled for release, JULY 8, 2008.

Lee

Lee Silver
Romance with a Twist
THE TWIST, Coming July 8, 2008 from BookStrand Publishing
http://www.leesilver.org

Venture - coming soon

“I read your blog on the Siren-BookStrand site, Bill. Did your first wife really call you when she saw the cover of Venture?” Susan asked.

I hesitated. The waitress came to take our dinner orders. Susan rattled off a few dishes then I told the waitress I’d have the same. I wasn’t that fond of Indian food but I knew Susan loved it. “Make mine mild,” I added.

In spite of not liking curry, I would have taken Susan to an Indian restaurant in New Delhi if she’d asked me to. I was that besotted with her. I considered her to be the ideal girlfriend. A divorced librarian, she had no children and didn’t want any. My two kids were grown up, so I wasn’t keen to start a family, either. Moreover, Susan really shone in that part of the house where it mattered, and I don’t mean the kitchen.

“The blog,” Susan said, reminding me what we were talking about, as if I was trying to avoid the subject.

“I did take a certain amount of poetic license,” I replied. “But both of my ex-wives did actually read an early draft of Venture. That bit was true.”

“And the woman on the cover? She’s the protagonist, Lydia, I presume?”

“Of course. And the answer is yes, to your next question, she is a composite of both Wendy and Samantha.”

“So tell me all about Lydia’s character and it’ll give me an idea what kind of woman you like.”

“That’s easy, a woman like you,” I replied.

She laughed. “Nice try.”

I knew it worried Susan that I still communicated with my ex-wives. They were both lovely women, which is not what she wanted to hear. Believing it to be true, Susan could have possibly deduced that the reason I was no longer married to either of them must be because I was a jerk. Instead, her left brain seemed to have concluded I must be still in love with both of them.

“The other point about my blog that was true,” I said, “is that the woman on the cover does look remarkably like my first wife Wendy.”

"Oh, so you prefer blondes?”

Susan was a brunette, not a classically beautiful woman, but she had that dirty-girl look that some men (including this one) find attractive. “You asked me for an insight on the heroine,” I said. “You can’t judge a woman’s character by the color of her hair.”

She laughed so loud I presumed it was the most ludicrous notion she’d ever heard. The people at the next table turned to look at us, and for a moment I thought she might repeat my assertion to them. “Sorry. Go on. What is it about Lydia’s character that makes her a compelling heroine?”

Hmm, this was going to be tricky. My protagonist really did have a lot of the traits of my ex-wives. I had the horrible feeling Susan would try to match those attributes with ones she possessed. I’d maneuvered myself into a situation that had the potential to kill my relationship with her before it even got started. Very clever, William.

“Well, first of all, forget the hair color and the fact that she’s pretty. Those things don’t affect the story or Lydia’s suitability as the heroine.”

Susan leaned forward, linked the fingers of both hands, and rested her chin on them. She nodded. “What does, then?”

“She’s very smart: PhD, IQ in the stratosphere, quick witted, and an expert on DNA. Same sort of qualities you have, really except your skills are literary rather than scientific.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, she has a strong will and a determination to get what she wants. In this case the guy. And when he finds himself in a pickle with some shady characters, she’s the one who extricates him, risking her own life in the process.”

The food arrived, giving me some breathing space and Susan time to ponder what I’d said about Lydia. It seemed to satisfy her because we moved off the topic and switched to global warming. Don’t get me started on that one!

LEE SILVER, "Romance with a Twist"

Hi Everybody,

I'm so happy to meet you all (yes I'm a southern gal :) & to be one of BookStrand's flagship authors. I love relaxing on the beach in Ocean City, MD, and we’re going on 16 wonderful years of happily ever after. Our son is grown and living an apron’s string away from mama right here in Norfolk, VA. I'm looking forward to chatting with each and every one of you, sooo don't be shy!

I live a double life, techno geek by day and witchy romantic when the moon is full :) I have always loved to write and have done a fair amount of professional writing for my job. I never did anything creative until I started to have some health issues in the late 90’s. After a geeky reference manual and a few tongue-in-cheek editorials, I thought it would be fun to try my hand at romance.

THE TWIST is my first published novel. A story of mind-bending control and unnerving metamorphosis, THE TWIST unravels the tale of a hotshot consultant as he struggles to foil a plot to steal $12 million and to rescue the feisty, female scientist who has stolen his heart.

THE TWIST is scheduled for release, JULY 8, 2008.

ZANE TOLLISON’S wife is running through their cash faster than he can make it. A “Hail Mary” contract with Clearwater Tobacco arrives in the nick of time to keep his fledgling, consulting firm afloat and to unchain him once and for all from his narcissistic wife. Beautiful, brilliant and estranged, KATHY DAVIS is desperate for a new beginning. The feisty post doc bio-geneticist jumps at an offer from Clearwater, pouring her soul into a development that will revolutionize the tobacco industry.

The two are unwittingly reeled into a convoluted plan to steal $12 million; Zane is changing into a carbon copy of Kathy, a pawn in a bizarre genetic metamorphosis, entangling Kathy in a sinewy web of seduction and deceit. Forging a bond that will set the course of their destiny, they fight to overpower the diabolic hold that has taken over their lives.

CLICK HERE to read the first chapter of THE TWIST.

Visit me at MySpace to see what's going on in my world.

Let's have fun!
Lee

Lee Silver
Romance with a Twist
THE TWIST, Coming July 8, 2008 from BookStrand Publishing
http://www.leesilver.org

To all the mothers out there, including my own Mom . . .

A Song For Mama

No matter what you do,

No matter what you say,

I love you more and more each and every day.

I want to kiss your furrowed brow,

And make you smile instead of frown.

I hear you laugh and it warms me immensely,

And when you cry my heart breaks deeply.

We might argue all through the night,

But in the light of day everything is all right.

We are family today and friends tomorrow,

This is why I try to take away your sorrow.

Because no matter what you do

Because no matter what you say,

I love you, Mom more and more each day.

Copyright © 2008 Anika Hamilton

Happy Mother's Day to all of you,

From Anika

Anika Hamilton's Intro

Hi, my name is Anika Hamilton. I was born and raised in Jamaica, later moving to sunny South Florida to complete my college education. I spend my daylight hours as a public administrator working in my local library. At night, I am usually writing, playing video games, reading, watching TV, or any feasible combination of these activities with writing as the focal point.

My writing career began with the creation of poetry which I did for many years. I later graduated to erotic romance, succumbing to the voices of the heroes and heroines in my head. My stories cross several genres and themes, involving a mix of all kinds of loving and always with a happy ending.

I'm very happy to be a part of the Siren-BookStrand. Look for my first two releases from BookStrand which are ‘Dessert Box’ to be released in July and ‘Reclaiming Nicola’ slated for August. Look for these titles and more from me in the coming months.

You can see my website at http://www.anikahamilton.com or my blog at http://anikahamilton.blogspot.com or contact me directly at anikahamilton@bellsouth.net.

Enjoy the new blog and until next time . . . Happy Reading!

Lindsay's Intro

Hello!
I'm delighted to be part of this Siren-Bookstrand blog. I'm Lindsay Townsend and I'm a British historical and romantic thriller writer, living in the beautiful county of Yorkshire, England. I've been writing since I was about six years old and have always dreamed of being an author. I love EPIC (Remember the Ben Hur chariot race? Lord of the Rings?) and adventure and find that making up exciting, sensual stories about the past really works for me. I love putting seemingly 'ordinary' characters in extraordinary situations, with high stakes, and having them struggle and make it. And I love happy, romantic endings! My hobbies are reading, cooking, admiring my lovely garden, walking in the countryside, looking at old churches, talking on the phone to my friends and, recently, chatting and blogging to my friends online.
My website, where you can see my forthcoming BookStrand historical romance FLAVIA'S SECRET (set in 1st Century Roman Britain) and read more about it, is http://www.lindsaytownsend.com/
You can come and chat to me directly and peep at my garden on my blog at http://lindsaysbookchat.blogspot.com/ .

Audrey Godwin's Intro

Thanks, Amanda, for inviting me to the Siren/BookStrand blog. I can't believe I made it again! Hey, I'm getting good at this!

Just to let everyone know who I am, my name is Audrey Godwin and for the most part I write Gothic stories richly bathed in erotica and paranormal activity. You will find the tortured hero, and a beautiful heroine going through a challenging situation filled with dark characters of all kinds. Witches, ghosts, spell-beings and shapeshifters may show up at any time—or they may be the main character! My novels are full, rich and engaging. I come from Dallas, Texas but when I went to work for the federal government, I moved to the east. My first release for Siren was Dancing with the Devil. I also write for BookStrand where my book, Sin City will be coming out soon. These are two really great books, so I hope you will look them up and see what they're all about. You'll be seeing promos now and again with blurbs and excerpts, some of them pretty steamy. I've got more coming out soon, in fact I've probably worn Amanda ragged with all my submissions. I really love Siren, and BookStrand as well. There's some really great people connected to these publishing houses, and the authors are top of the line. I am honored to be among them.

Thanks for letting me ramble on. It's been great!

Audrey Godwin
http://www.audreygodwin.com/
afullflame@aol.com