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Showing posts with label Delilah Devlin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Delilah Devlin. Show all posts

Saturday, January 5, 2013

Kicking off the New Year

I tend to look on the positive side when experiencing a little bad luck but coming down with a cold on New Year's Day was not my idea of how to start a more productive year. I'm drinking gallons of hot tea, sipping lemon and honey and considering investing in some Kleenex stock.

Here's an excerpt of "Head Over Heels", my contribution to the erotic romance anthology, Red Stilettos, from Ellora's Cave. A print copy that includes stories by Francesca Hawley, Ashlyn Chase and Delilah Devlin is one of the prizes that will be awarded for this month's Romance Books 4 Us website contest http://www.romancebooks4us.com



Red Stilettos, Book One.

Bella Jacienski literally falls into sexy philanthropist Rhys Vincent’s arms while wearing her “magic” red stilettos, and wonders if the legend attached to the shoes is true. Has she found her heart’s desire—a passionate, lust-crazed lover who wants only her? Always and forever?

Rhys can’t keep his big hands off the curvy shopkeeper. Her smile captivates him and her lush body has him behaving like a he-man Neanderthal. Heated glances and sizzling touches turn into a hot office interlude and wild, break-the-bed sex that only makes him want her more. Bella is all the magic he needs.


Excerpt: Erotic Contemporary novella (R)


He situated the ladder and started climbing.

“I admire a man who’s willing to battle cobwebs and lace doilies to make me happy,” she said, watching him balance three full hatboxes and step back down. The muscles in his legs and ass clenched and her mouth watered. She was going to be a giant puddle before this was over. She hastily cleared the counter.

He set the boxes down between them. “Anymore balancing acts I should know about?”

She shook her head. “Not this week,” she said as he grabbed his coat and hat. She didn’t want him to go but if he didn’t there was a real threat that she’d start rationalizing a quickie, drag him into the storeroom and fuck his brains out among the clutter and cast-off furniture. There was a fainting couch but the upholstery was shot and the stuffing was marginal.

Oh damn. She’d been without sex way too long.

He turned the handle and the door popped open. “I know I locked this.”

She shrugged. “I have to use the deadbolt if I want to lock it securely.”

He frowned. “Were you afraid of being in here alone with me?”

“Not for the reason you might think,” she said, smiling because the thought worried him enough to ask. And he did look worried. “You’re almost too good to be true and I don’t want to screw it up.” He shut the door, deliberately and she cringed. “I open my mouth and—”

He crossed the shop in quick, deliberate strides closing the distance between them.

“Open your mouth, Bella,” he whispered, lowering his head. His soft command swept through her and brushed away any doubt that this was what they both wanted.

Even in the impossibly high stilettos she had to stand on tiptoe until he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her closer. His mouth was warm and sweet, restrained for the second it took her to accept him and then he claimed. His hands were everywhere, around her, caressing her.

She pressed against his erection, hot and ready. The upholstery on the fainting couch in the storeroom wasn’t that bad. She could throw a blanket over it. Or she could lead him upstairs to her delicate, wrought-iron bed. And they could make the bed shake and the windows rattle.

She drew back and took a deep breath. She wanted to reach down and touch all that pulsating energy wedged between them but he pulled away, his fingers trailing down her arms.

“Do you care about any of them enough to want them back?”

Still dazed by his kiss, she shook her head. “I didn’t care enough about any of them to consider how terrific make-up sex would be,” she said, still fixated on his mouth.

He looked stunned for a moment then shook his head. “Let’s not make that our first time,” he rasped, drawing her out of her trance. He pushed his arms into his jacket, put on his hat and slung his scarf around his neck. “I can’t believe there isn’t someone in your past smart enough to want you back,” he said, pinning her with a heated gaze that just missed being a glare.

He unceremoniously grabbed her for another lingering kiss, cradling her head in his big hands and taking her mouth as if he were staking his territory. And then he was gone.

She watched him cross the street between lights, still hungry for his touch, another kiss. Rhys Vincent had to be the most passionate man she’d ever met. Lust was definitely part of the equation—and he wanted her.


Just for fun, I made a video for the anthology...





May 2013 be filled with wonder and joy for you all. Until next month,

Happy Reading!


Paris Brandon
  

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Red Stilettos Contest!


I’m celebrating the print release of my newest Ellora’s Cave title, RED STILETTOS with a new contest. The anthology includes my story Head Over Heels, plus Whirlwind Affair by Francesca Hawley, Dear Sexy Lexie by Ashlyn Chase and Bad, Bad Girlfriend by Delilah Devlin.

The rules are listed on my website home-page and all you have to do is follow them to be entered in the drawing. And for those of you who comment today some lucky person will be receiving a download of IOU, my short story that’s part of the Carnal Reunions anthology with Resplendence Publishing.

RED STILETTOS:

A New Year’s Day auction and a pair of legendary red stilettos guaranteed to bring the wearer their heart’s desire have four friends pooling their money to take a chance on love. Here’s a blurb and excerpt from Bella’s story, the heroine of Head Over Heels.

Height-challenged Bella Jacienski literally falls head over magic red stilettos into sexy philanthropist’s Rhys Vincent’s arms and wonders if the legend attached to the shoes is true. Has she found her heart’s desire, a passionate, lust-crazed lover who wants only her¬—always?

Rhys can’t keep his big hands off the curvy shopkeeper. Her smile captivates him and her lush body has him behaving totally out of character. Heated glances and sizzling touches turn into a hot office interlude and wild break-the-bed sex that only make him want her more. She thinks the shoes are magic but Rhys knows that Bella is all the magic he needs.

Excerpt:

Rhys Vincent ground his back teeth and took Veronica Smith–Hathaway’s elbow as they crossed the street. It was snowing and not for the first time did he wish he were wearing boots instead of dress shoes with his tux. Ronnie didn’t seem to notice the puddle that soaked her designer heels or the frigid wind that tore at the edges of her flimsy black evening coat. Neither had been designed for January in Kansas City.
Veronica—Ronnie—was his best friend Brian’s estranged wife. She had insisted she knew a shop that had the fedora they needed to complete the scavenger-hunt list—right after he’d politely refused her offer to give him the best sex of his life. Was it too much to ask for a woman who didn’t have an agenda to want to have sex with him? He’d been down the revenge-sex path years ago and it was one he didn’t want to take with a woman he’d known for twenty years.

He’d promised Brian that he’d keep an eye on her and that meant he couldn’t very well let her walk around alone in the Crossroads art district after dark.
As CEO of the Vincent Foundation, he’d put Veronica in charge of the annual event as a favor. One he was coming to regret. He was still trying to figure out why Brian was so worried about a wife he’d clearly been neglecting for the past year when Ronnie leaned over and peered into a dimly lit shop.

“There it is,” she hissed, pointing at a weathered brown fedora, jauntily perched on a torso mannequin’s head. Before he could figure out why she was hissing, he glanced through the window, started to shout and everything went into slow motion.

He saw a pair of curvy legs that ended in sexy red spike heels leaning forward and overbalancing a rickety ladder. The bell over the door jangled as he pushed it open and sprinted three full strides. He reached her before she finished screaming.

“She” was an armful of black and white fluff he grabbed and swept out of the way as the ladder fell.

Maybe he couldn’t breathe because she’d smacked him square in the chest but he didn’t think so. Although it could have been because her arms were wrapped solidly around his neck, as if she didn’t intend to let go anytime soon. Fine by him.

He didn’t know if she was shocked that he’d caught her or because she knew the shudder that rippled through her like a faint orgasm had telegraphed its way into his fingertips. She looked like a naughty fairy-tale princess with big blue eyes. A fall of silky dark hair brushed the top of her black turtleneck and her creamy cheeks were flushed as bright as an apple. She knew.

Have a safe and happy Labor Day weekend and until next month,
Happy Reading!
Paris

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